HALF DOME: FULL DOME CONSEQUENCES

[lizolas]

Half Dome: Full Dome Consequences

November 5, 2017

After the complete failure I had in July at using my Half Dome permit – I must really have no friends if I can’t find people who want to use a supposedly in-demand cables permit – I wanted to go back before the end of the year and make an attempt at the Liberty Cap-Half Dome-Clouds Rest linkup I’d concocted in order to earn the Fitbit 1000 floors badge. Or so I thought. I’m not sure if they removed some badges, or if I’d just mistaken the 1000 lifetime floors badge for a daily one, but there isn’t currently such a thing. Nor is there the 100,000 steps in a day badge I also could have sworn there used to be, although I was nowhere close to earning that one.

I’d been told by Zach – whom I met in the Mt Dana parking lot right before he decidedly out-hiked me – that Liberty Cap-Half Dome-Clouds Rest was a totally doable dayhike linkup for anyone in reasonable shape. He’d done it in 13 hours at least once. He was going to come along with me, but bailed on Saturday afternoon due to the weather forecasts promising a severe winter storm. After having been the one expressing hesitation all week with him telling me it was just a little rain and snow and it would be fine, I found myself still set on the idea.

My main concern with Sierra peaks is lightning, and the forecast called for snow and rain but no thunderstorms. The summer season had ended. I figured I’d be fine with hiking in the rain, and since I was going to camp in my car, I’d have no problem with the weather overnight like we’d had at Bear Creek Spire – not to mention Hardin Flat Road was well below the freezing elevation. Since I was planning to be tied to the cables on Half Dome, the thought of wet, slick slabs made me a bit nervous that I wouldn’t make it up, but I also wasn’t too concerned about sustaining serious injuries from a slip. I checked the weather on the peaks daily for most of the week leading up to the trip, and watched them go from a forecast 6-8+ inches to 4-6 inches, and finally, on Friday and Saturday, around <2 inches for Saturday night, with minuscule amounts Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning. Checking the webcams in Yosemite Valley on Saturday afternoon confirmed that there was no snow visible on Half Dome yet, and the sky wasn’t even entirely cloudy. If the forecast “heaviest storm” time wasn’t even solid clouds, I decided I’d brave the elements to get this goal accomplished.

The one nice thing about this trip was the lack of rushed packing on Thursday night after I idiotically decided to go to the gym like I usually do. I think I am learning, slowly, that trying to cram back-to-back strenuous hikes into a 3-day weekend just leaves me disappointed and having completed only the major one of the trip anyway. Saturday morning I went to the gym, then came home and contemplated packing while I waited to hear one way or the other from Zach. He finally got back to me at 1:30, saying his reason for going was the scenery, and if it was going to be cloudy and miserable, he didn’t really want to go. Around 5 pm after I checked the webcams, I decided I should start getting my shit together and packing. Fortunately, hiking trips are easier to pack for than climbing trips, as there’s nothing you can catastrophically forget besides maybe appropriate shoes, or all of your clothes. With the “bed” I’d put in for the Pilot’s maiden camping voyage, I had enough space on the side for all my gear, food, and clothing.

I left Sunnyvale at 7:30 on the dot, headed for Hardin Flat Road. There was impressively little traffic the entire way there, and I arrived at about 11:45 after a couple gas and food stops. Daylight Savings Time meant that my alarm for 3 am was actually 4 hours away instead of 3.

I woke up with the 3 am alarm, still feeling tired but ok. I arrived in the Valley an hour later at 4, and drove around looking for someplace where parking wasn’t explicitly prohibited before 6 am to leave my car. The Happy Isles Trailhead parking lot didn’t seem to have any such prohibitions, and there was another truck parked there when I pulled in. At this point, my expected “4 am start” dragged out to 5:15 am as packing in the dark took longer than anticipated. I justified the delay by telling myself that rather than hike in the dark all at the beginning, it would be better to do the beginning and ending in the dark, since I’m pretty familiar with the Mist Trail up to Nevada Falls, and it’s nearly impossible to get lost on an asphalt trail and stairs.

My original plan was to follow instructions I’d read online indicating that for this linkup, it’s best to start with Clouds Rest and then do the others on the way back. Then I began considering the possibility of bushwhacking my way back from Liberty Cap in the dark and decided maybe it was best to do them in the opposite order. Liberty Cap was entirely unfamiliar to me (and the reality of the approach was very different from what I was expecting based on online approach/route beta) and the only part not on a trail. Half Dome wasn’t something I would be doing in the dark, but there was some technical skill involved there. Clouds Rest was just a hike, and both physically and mentally seemed like the thing I'd want to do last – when that was over, all I’d have to do was walk back to the car.

After hiking up past the falls in complete darkness, the sky began to lighten at 6 am as I walked from Vernal Fall to Nevada Fall. Initially there was a bit of cloud cover in the sky, but it quickly dissipated, leaving only blue sky with some fluffy white puffs. I hoped the good weather would hold for the rest of the day.

Coming up along the south side of Liberty Cap, I got momentarily lost and backtracked a bit before deciding that the Mountain Project approach beta was for big wall climbing, and I was almost completely certain the gully scramble approach had been around the opposite side. Just after 7 am, I turned off the trail into what seemed the most promising deer/climber trail up the scrub-covered hillside toward the back of Liberty Cap. While there’s something of a network up there – with dead ends, if you’re not paying attention – the trails were generally pretty easy to follow once I realized what I was getting into, and in the more unclear junctions were often marked with cairns. I’m not sure if I have a terrible memory or if the pictures I’d seen were just from a different angle, but the gully was much wider than I was expecting.

Looking toward the Valley with the base of Liberty Cap to the right.

On the way up, I stayed mostly to the climber’s right side, which involved some moves that felt maybe a little more committed than class 3, but nothing terribly risky. Just before 8 am I reached the top, which is somewhat larger and flatter than I was expecting. I had a quick snack, took some pictures, and left the top at 8:08, arriving at the bottom at exactly 8:38. On the way down, I stuck toward the climber’s left side, which was marked with cairns I hadn’t noticed on the way up. I guess I assumed they just stopped after the approach trails through the brush. The climber’s left side was definitely the easier way to go.

Liberty Cap provides an unusual vantage point of Half Dome

Back on the trail, I continued toward Half Dome. I turned onto the Half Dome trail, and about half a mile up I finally saw my first humans of the day – a couple coming down the trail from Half Dome. Based on pictures I’d seen in recent Instagram posts (one of my favorite ways to ascertain current conditions for a trip), I was expecting to encounter some groups out for an #optoutside adventure, but maybe the forecast storms were enough to put a stop to that, or maybe there were other groups I missed by starting so early. There was a dusting of snow leading up to the Subdome, and once on top of the Subdome, a few patches of snow and ice forced me to carefully consider my footing.

Looking toward Clouds Rest from the Half Dome trail

I’d started out, as usual, dressed for the forecast at the top of the peaks. I quickly shed my jacket and long sleeved Smartwool shirt and had been hiking in just a tank top up to that point. At the base of the cables, a combination of wind and sitting still getting my gear in order made me put all my layers back on. I put on my harness and rock shoes, which I’d brought in the hopes that they’d help with walking up wet rock. I also wore nitrile-palm (rubbery) gloves.

The first prusik went very badly, but after that my fingers remembered what they were doing and the transitions at anchor points got much smoother. As most people who do Half Dome note, the cables have 3 sections: the first is maybe steeper than the average person would be comfortable walking unaided, but very doable; the second is somewhat steeper, although I had no problem with it aside from one foot-slip on a patch of wet rock which didn’t actually weight my prussik; the third section of cable is so positive that I didn’t even anchor myself to the cable there, just walked up to the top.

The “Diving Board”
Clouds Rest from the top of Half Dome

I summited at about 11:10 and again took some pictures and retreated again relatively quickly, as I didn’t want to make any stops too leisurely. With the short length of daylight and my late start, every minute I rested meant another minute hiking in the dark.

Someday I will learn to make straight panoramas

Going down was even easier than going up (huge surprise) and felt like a rappel with a very heavy rope. It took maybe 10 minutes total. I would advise caution and maybe as thick a prusik cord as will reasonably grab the cables. A forum post I’d read recommended gloves because of “steel splinters that will do a number on your hands.” Well, they’ll also do a number on your accessory cord. I even encountered a couple splinters that stuck up so far I had to loosen the prusik and slide it over one loop at a time. Some people may prefer to use two knots attached at any given time, to have the system backed up. Much like I only attach a personal anchor to one bolt at the top of a sport route while I build an anchor I’m perched securely at, I felt like the single prusik was the backup for me in the event of a fall (I never used it to lean back on and rest – I only rested on rock features), and I only had one knot on the cable except while switching sections.

The ascent/rappel setup
The “down for the winter” cables are still there, but missing the 2x4 steps and metal poles to hold them at handrail height.
Looking down at the subdome from on the cables

At this point I began feeling very relieved. The two peaks that involved more than simply hiking on a trail were done, and all I had to do was keep walking. I think I picked the correct order in which to climb things, for myself, anyway. Like the good alpinist I aspire to one day be, I had no memory of how hard the “gentle” hike up to Clouds Rest was the year before when I ended up turning around and deciding I was too tired to continue. In my mind, hiking below 10,000 feet shouldn’t be that difficult. I’ve never had problems with AMS, only with getting terribly out of breath at higher elevations, and I wasn’t even going to break 10,000’ today. I still managed to get out of breath ascending the trail. I gradually slowed to a steady crawl and it took me from about 12:40 when I reached the trail junction until 3 pm when I reached the summit.

Clouds Rest USGS survey monument

From what I remember of my attempt last year, I left the base of the subdome (where the Ranger was checking permits and I had to wait for the group to catch up) about 9, and turned around about 1-1:30, at least 45 minutes from the summit, by my estimation. Last year I mistook the large monolith visible from the switchback section to be Clouds Rest, and turned back when I couldn’t find a clear trail to the top – somewhat embarrassing. This year, I think I was at the same subdome point around noon, and had summited Clouds Rest only 3 hours later – 1 hour off of my previous time, and a longer distance. Eventually I will be a capable high elevation hiker.

From online descriptions I was expecting some knife edge ridge, but this path was plenty wide

As I climbed the final portion of the Clouds Rest trail, clouds began to gather. Not ominous clouds, just misty clouds that now obscured the fantastic view of Half Dome and down into Tenaya Canyon. Oops – good thing I got some nice pictures last year. I took some pictures and headed down, eating my snacks on the go once I reached the main trail. Yosemite Valley: 10.6 miles. I could do this (I had to do this, as there was no other option). I’d summited my 3 peaks and it was all downhill from here.

Half Dome kind of visible through the clouds and fog

On most of my hikes in the dark it’s seemed like the final portion of a hike out – all on nice, maintained trails – should take at most an hour, but ends up stretching longer and longer. At Little Yosemite Valley around 4:30, with only 3 miles back to the car, the sun was almost down from the top of the sky and I stopped to get my headlamp out. There was a single tent that I observed there. I still hadn’t seen anyone since the 5 people I met on the Half Dome trail. Just before the top of Nevada Falls, I met another pair of hikers heading in to backpack. Slightly strange on a Sunday night, but hey, I didn’t have work the next day either. A sign at the top of the Mist Trail just below the bathrooms indicated that a portion of the JMT was closed, and the Mist Trail was the way down. Sorry, knees. I met another group of 3-4 hikers going down the steep rocky section by Liberty Cap, and then saw nobody until I got back to the trailhead. While I clearly wasn’t the only one on Half Dome, It’s probably a fairly safe bet that I was the only one on Liberty Cap that day; I think, based on my lone set of footprints in the snow up there, that I was the only person to go up Clouds Rest that day, too. As much as I’d enjoyed the solitude for most of the day, I would have been happy with some company or nearby hikers on the way back in the dark. I think that every time I’m out hiking after sunset, but Mt Whitney was the only time I ever actually slowed down to stay with other hikers I met on the way back.

Eventually, and somewhat less relaxed than I’d felt for most of the day, I reached the trailhead almost exactly 13 hours after I started, then walked the half mile back to the car at 6:30 for a total of 13:15 car-to-car, 27.7 miles, and 9,511’ elevation gain (1008 floors, per Fitbit), according to Strava. Strava tracked 9:40 moving time, which means I rested (summits, the base of the cables, plus brief, frequent stops, mostly on the stairs and Clouds Rest trail) about 3.5 hours during the day.

At that point, I felt like there was no way I was going to do the Glacier Point hike I’d planned for Monday morning, nor did I feel excited about having to drive out to Hardin Flat Road only to drive back in at 4 am. I went to the general store hoping they were still open and I could find something caffeinated enough to ensure a safe trip home to my own bed. Thankfully they were still open. Despite being pitch black for a couple hours, it was only 7, and they stay open til 8.

I only made it to Oakdale before I decided that what I needed was sleep, not caffeine. I had planned to sleep just a couple hours, then wake up and finish driving home, but never set an alarm because I sleep so lightly in parking lots. I didn’t wake up until 6:30 the next morning. As nice as it would have been to sleep in my own bed, the real problem with this was that I got stuck in a little over an hour of extra traffic going toward Pleasanton. I arrived home at 10:30, which felt like a ridiculous waste of the morning, but I would have just been leaving Yosemite about that time according to my original plan. The thing to do might have been to walk through one of the Pines campgrounds and see if anyone with only one car in a site would let me park with them for the night, to let me get an early start for the hike without adding the 2 hours of driving. Given the state of my knee the next day, I think the 5-mile Rancho hike was a much better idea than a strenuous 10-12 mile one.

Next Time:

• I need to get more comfortable with starting earlier and hiking longer in the dark.
• No matter how awful I feel after a long hike, I’m probably more capable of hiking the next day than I initially think. Provided nothing is injured, I should stick around and see if a moderate hike the next day is doable.
• Consider traffic when timing return trips. Only an hour delay wasn’t bad, and another day hiking in Yosemite would have involved 2 extra hours of driving to and from the park, but had I thought of it the night before, I could have set an alarm to leave Oakdale by 4 or 5.
• As learned at Mt. Shasta, Bear Creek Spire, and here, packing your daypack the night before is essential to an early start. Somehow what seems like it’ll be 10-15 minutes of stuffing a few items in a pack turns into an hour or more of packing, repacking, and searching through a dark car for missing items.
• TOUCHSCREEN GLOVES ARE IMPORTANT
• There is no 1000 floors in a day Fitbit badge
• Don’t count on anythingone you’re not in control of. The trip worked because I was willing to go even without someone else.
• Solo trips on low-risk hikes are probably the best way to gain confidence in my abilities. Had Zach come I’d never have had to trust my knowledge of the Liberty Cap approach, and I’d have just followed him up the approach trails without really having to decide for myself that this was the way.