I awoke around 7 am the next morning, after sleeping horribly, tossing and turning all night. I woke up feeling achy like I was run over by a truck. I had bug bites all over, and this was an issue for me. Now I was paying the price. Upon exiting my tent, I finally was able to have a better look around. The Little Yosemite Valley campground was expansive, and could easily fit at least 50 tents, if not more.
My first order of business was filling up my water. I inquired with another hiker, while at the bear box, where the best water source was. They pointed to the river, and as I suspected, that was the best spot. Walking into camp in the fading light, the river seemed lazy and slow-moving. I walked a short distance to the river, finding it clear, and crisp looking, making for a great water source.
Sitting by the Merced River, I felt somewhat more optimistic and renewed. From atop a boulder, I balanced and scooped river water filling my CNOC bag. I attached it to my Sawyer Squeeze MicroMo and found a branch to hang it. I attached my water bottle to that, and let gravity do all the work. One thing with Sawyer is it could take 20 minutes to fill a 1.5 liter bottle, without resorting to squeezing it, using only gravity.
Half Dome, the silhouette of which was visible from down below, was in the back of my mind. But I needed to have coffee and breakfast before any decisions were made. The bugs were out and about early on. I was not liking how buggy it was there. Aside from that, the river was peaceful, and serene, with a massive granite hillside towering above it. I knew swimming in this river could be dangerous given the waterfall not far downstream. I supposed wading in an eddy might be alright.
Filtering Water
After making my way back to my campsite with my bottles filled, and an extra bag of water in my CNOC, I got to work on my breakfast, starting with boiling water for my backpacking meal and coffee. I poured half the water from my Toaks cup into the dehydrated meal bag and drizzled freeze-dried coffee into the cup with the remaining water, swirling it around, as it instantly disintegrated. I decided to go all in on Mountain House Scrambled Eggs for breakfast and pair it with half of a hefty Trader Joe’s Gluten Free Sea Salt Chocolate Chip Cookie. These large-sized cookies were a recent discovery, and they do well on a backpacking trip for sure, given half of a cookie is 200 calories. They are tough to crumble and break to boot, which can be a problem when you’re cramming things in a backpack.
Breakfast
Breakfast was just what I needed for motivation. After I consumed about 500 calories, got caffeinated, and carbed up. I now felt semi-ok to do the Half Dome day hike. I knew I was still too exhausted to backpack again, and needed a recovery day. The hurt in my shoulders and collarbone had begun to subside somewhat. Now the focus began to shift to the mosquitos, who were slowly eating me alive here, in this scenic wooded campground.
Pit Toilets
I made my first trip through the campground to the pit toilets, a large cabin-like structure, with a metal stairway, and about 4 stalls. They were surprisingly cleaner than expected, stocked with toilet paper, and not as smelly as I imagined they would be. Afterward, I gathered my essentials in my daypack, filling the bladder with 2 liters of water, and carrying an additional one liter, which I felt was adequate for the journey.
Half Dome
It was around 10 am when I began my trek to Half Dome. After about a 1/2 mile from my campsite, I reached the foot of the switchbacks at the edge of the meadow, finding this sign. As I hiked past it, dozens of hikers passed me on their way back from Half Dome. I heard ramblings about having to start Half Dome early or risk getting stuck in a traffic jam before taking this trip. I heard it can be very hot on the climb in the morning sun. I was not that concerned, because I was starting a bit later. I had no trouble making the 2400 feet of climbing, to just below the dome.
As I headed steadily up, the rocky steps and terrain, I stopped at shady spots to rest. I took advantage of these, removing my hat to cool my head, repeatedly.
I passed another sign for Half Dome, and my mood improved further. I thought to myself, “I am really doing this.” I knew nothing is possible without God, so I continued on, and with each step, was grateful to be there, at least attempting a hike which for years said I would probably never do. I had a newfound confidence, and willingness to just try, no matter the outcome.
18 Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later.
Romans 8:18
Once on the saddle, the whole of the Sierra seemed to unfold before me. It was a literal wonderland of scenic granite domes, flecked by hardy pines, cedars, and evergreens.
The sun cast mystical shadows on the mountaintops through the clouds. Many distant peaks were visible, and the views were far-reaching. It was like no other place I had ever been before.
I could spot Clouds Rest, another supposedly gorgeous and challenging hike, just off in the distance. I had imagined I would be climbing it too while hiking the High Sierra Loop, visiting all the High Sierra Camps, and touring Yosemite from south to north. That all changed after my experience on day one. Now I was content to take the hand I was dealt, and still enjoy this trip as much as possible, even if I would need to head back.
I counted my blessings and decided to pivot to the plan being laid out by God. If Half Dome was in the cards, then that is what I would get to do.
There would be no more big thinking or hubris for me. It was time to bow down to reason and be humble. Sure I would hike up Half Dome, and possibly the cables, but all that was God willing. I was putting it all in his hands. It was in my hands to listen to him today. I knew I needed to just listen since he gave me ears to hear.
I arrived at the foot of Half Dome, right before a series of steep granite steps, which would be the first challenge.
The ranger was checking permits, and giving everyone a speech on safety. I listened intently and proceeded.
I began making my way towards Half Dome up the steep granite steps. I took my time and placed my feet carefully. Stumbling on granite like this could result in extreme injuries with the steep pitch. I took a few rest breaks here because I was gaining elevation quickly, at a rate of 1000 feet per mile.
Plenty of hikers were going up as well as down simultaneously. The trail was very narrow and steep, but there were places to step aside to allow others to pass.
The views were completely stunning. I kept leapfrogging another older woman on the way up. She would step aside for other hikers, and I would step aside for her. Eventually, we chatted for a moment.
Jennifer was a bit older than me. She told me her daughter Cary was at the top waiting for her. She mentioned not being from here, in California. Then she tells me where she is from, and it’s my hometown. My reply was that there are no coincidences in life. We kept supporting each other the entire way up. She had a great attitude.
You can kind of tell how steep it was here, but trust me, it got much worse from here on out.
As I hiked ever closer to the cables, I knew in my mind, I did not have to go up them, and I only had to do what I felt comfortable doing.
Gazing back down the steep granite, I had crawled on all fours up, I kept in mind the trees, and how I stayed to the left of them, so I could remember how to go back down.
When I reached the base of Half Dome, Jennifer was right behind me. She was unsure if she wanted to go up with her daughter.
Looking up at those cables from here, it was hard to tell how steep it was.
I decided to just try, and as I ascended the first few rungs, I knew this was going to be tough. My gloves were not grippy like some people. My trail runners were too broken in, so much, that they slipped easily on the granite. This was a recipe for disaster. But I kept going, about a 1/3 of the way up.
The only thing keeping me on the rock were a combination of the wooden ledges, and keeping a tight grip. Up ahead of me, people were coming down, and so I waited. I began to notice the line of people was not moving further up. This made me nervous. I did not want to crouch on the rock longer than needed. So I waited, and as I did, my grip and bicep strength was fading fast.
I clung there, at rung number 11, waiting in line behind about 30 or so hikers going up and down, my hand began to ache, as did my knees and feet, while I crouched on a narrow board wedged into a pole drilled into the smooth granite. The pitch going up the cables of Half Dome was more than any hike I had been on. The ladder rungs were over 7 feet apart. Some of the poles were missing. It was slick. I knew I was ill-equipped, both in the choice of gloves, and the shoes I had on, and also my upper body strength was fading. With hiking and yoga as my main exercise, I did not spend as much time on calisthenics such as chin-ups and weights. I was not regretting that.
I went down a few boards and wanted to quit. Resolve kicked in, and I went back up, this time higher. I kept gauging the traffic jam ahead to see if it was clearing. Climbing the slick granite was tougher than walking up the slide like in childhood. They never made slides that steep and the price you pay for error could be death, careening off a granite cliff of no return.
I wanted to climb higher, but as much as I did, as I approached a section with no boards and a missing pole, where the granite was ever slicker, I saw no way to continue. My grip was fading, and my hands were cramping. A reality check set in as I was just over a third way up. So I started my descent, just as my biceps and fingers were weakening. I used most of my strength to brace myself, sliding down, facing the granite, and going backward as recommended.
As I walked away, I noticed the traffic jam on the cables had subsided. I had not been ready to hold on for that long. I thought Half Dome was more of a tough hike, but was more of a climb. I had never done something like this in my life. Challenge was accepted, but I was not prepared for it. From shoes to gloves, to upper body strength, I accepted these failings as an opportunity to improve for next time.
As I ventured back I was proud of myself for trying and making a sensible decision. I still went back over my decision, many times in my mind of what would be needed to successfully climb that beast.
I would need to considerably improve my upper body strength, especially my grip. I would need gloves with a rubberized grip, and some newer less slick trail runners or boots.
I had accidentally grabbed my old pair of trail runners versus the brand spanking new pair I had, with a fresh more tacky grip.
My body could fail me, but if it did, it would not be because God failed me. It would have been because I failed to listen. He was speaking to me. I had learned something from the whole experience, that It’s not about me in life, and my decisions, but about listening to God. I need to listen more, listen intently, and consistently, if I am to save myself from moments of hubris. I could have careened off the side of a granite dome. What is the point of dying that way? I question the point of hiking somewhere 300 people have been injured and 12 have died now.
God will give me struggles and trials to go through. But when I am in the thick of it, I need to suffer through it as best I can, and learn from it. Going against that nudge could have been the end of me, so I am proud of turning back, and of anyone else who has too. We can’t always do everything we want all the time, and that’s ok. We do our best, and we work within our abilities, within reason. That’s how we live a balanced life. We still struggle, but we don’t throw out all common sense in the process. I was glad to struggle on those cables, and my struggles on the trip were learning experiences. We can’t ever grow without struggle.
I had plenty of downtime to rest and get further bit up my mosquitos after making my way back to camp. It was a beautiful campground, except for the fact.
I sat by the river awhile, watching a few fly fishermen cast their nets. I started to consider the beauty of stillness and just contemplate all this pristine nature around me without moving constantly. Backpacking trips are about making miles, but what about just sitting in a place, in awe of it, in gratitude? I pulled out my bible app and managed to finish reading Acts 27-28.
In this chapter, there are storms at sea and many struggles. In the end, Paul preaches boldly without fear to those who do not believe. Whenever I read this verse it makes me think of all the people in the world today I encounter whose eyes and ears are closed to hearing the truth, or new information, and perspectives, which contradict their own. This prevents them from making a connection with God. All they need to do is listen to be healed of all the pain, depression, fear, anger, and loneliness that comes with believing in the things of this world. It was written that were would be a time like this, both then and now. If only people were able to see the beauty in front of them, that is all around, that is God’s handiwork, and feel a sense of peace, knowing he has a plan with such an intricate design and patterning, they can live in freedom.
For the hearts of these people are hardened,
Acts 28:27
and their ears cannot hear,
and they have closed their eyes—
so their eyes cannot see,
and their ears cannot hear,
and their hearts cannot understand,
and they cannot turn to me
and let me heal them.’[h]
I had started reading Acts in my bible study this year, and we got halfway through. So I finished the chapter there by the Merced River. Whenever I am filling my bottle up at a river or spring, I cannot help but think of the passage in the book of John about the Samaritin women, getting water to drink, where her jug is filled with “living water.”
38 Anyone who believes in me may come and drink! For the Scriptures declare, ‘Rivers of living water will flow from his heart.’”
John 7:38
I boiled water for my dinner, which would be Pad Thai, and laid out in the shade for a bit while contemplating my next moves on this trip. I was 95% sure I was heading back in the morning, after an afternoon of resting up for the journey ahead.
Serafina Hikes 