Hiking Half Dome at Yosemite
What are you carrying and not using? What are you carrying that you don’t need?
This past week I was hiking Half Dome in Yosemite National Park with my fiancée and three friends. Half Dome is a 17 mile round trip hike on a mix of paved trail, granite steps, sand, rock, and dirt. The trail ascends for 8 - 8.5 miles, gaining 5,500 feet of elevation, until reaching the top of Half Dome, which requires pulling yourself up chains attached to an almost vertical wall for the last few hundred feet of the hike. It then descends 8 - 8.5 miles back to the trailhead. You can count on it taking 10 - 12 hours, depending on fitness level and number of rest stops, to complete.
In addition to Half Dome’s challenging profile, there’s only two places to fill up water, at the trailhead and a few miles in sourced from a river, and nowhere to get food (naturally). Which means if you want to have an enjoyable day you’ll need to carry a couple thousand calories and a few liters of water. It’s also why hiking poles are recommended, and why we we all packed ours, checking a bag for a weekend trip just to do so.
Nevertheless, we all started the day with our hiking poles strapped to our backpacks as we began to climb the first 3 miles and 2,500 feet of the hike. Less than a mile in I thought about using mine, but something in me kept resisting. The trail was steep, and I knew I was in for a long day, but I thought I shouldn’t use them so early on, that it was better to fight through without them, and only use them if I needed them. Maybe just to descend.
But my brain wouldn’t relent. Over and over in my head it went, “Just pull them off your pack. What did you bring them for?” So, at the end of our first break, after gaining close to 1,400 feet, I gave in and pulled them off my bag, snapped them into place, and carried them in my left hand like a grocery bag. I went from carrying them on my back, to in my hand. Progress. Getting closer. But still not using them.
I looked around to my fiancée and my friends, none of whom had pulled off their poles yet, and again it went, “Why did we bring hiking poles if we weren’t going to use them?” It was a very real question I kept wondering about. What was the rationale we were telling ourselves to not use the poles we traveled with to help us hike? I actually paid $40 to check my backpack that I could have otherwise carried on. Said another way, I believed it was worth $40 to have my poles, which, for a frugal man, was not a decision I made lightly, and one that would have went another way in a prior time of my life. I had made an investment in my poles, and now when it was time to cash in I was treating my asset like an insurance policy.
Why were we so unwilling to use them?
There was the idea that using them created an image of weakness. That I couldn’t keep up without them. The belief that if I didn’t use them, I’d be stronger in the end having survived without their help. That I would suffer on the way up, but reap the benefits in the days that followed. There was the group think of, “No one else is using them, so maybe I don’t need them?” That only in the case of an emergency should they be deployed. All of these reasons, and more, swirling around my head, convincing me not to use them, even though they were always part of my plan.
As often happens, I then started to wonder where else in my life this was happening. Where else was I turning down help because I thought it might make me look weak, and because doing it alone would make me stronger? Or because no one else was looking for help, which meant I didn’t need any either. Where else could I be making my life easier, but I’m making the decision not to? What am I carrying around that I’m not utilizing? And, conversely, what am I carrying that I could get rid of?
What’s in my backpack that I didn’t need to bring but packed anyway because it gave me comfort, but no utility? What’s in my backpack that I’ve been procrastinating removing? On a typical hike I pack double the amount of food I need, to make sure that I never get hungry. As if hunger equals death. I pack gear I know I’m not going to use. I offer to carry other peoples comfort items so that they have a good time. Why carry around things I don’t need, when a lighter pack would be easier, allow me to reach the top quicker, with more energy, and have more time with the views?
A backpack on a long hike is the perfect metaphor for visualizing the baggage we carry around in life. Bad relationships. Excess bodyweight. Stress. Unrealistic expectations. Bad habits. Self abuse. Grudges, anger, and hate towards others. Self-limiting beliefs. Everything we emotionally, physically, and spiritually carry around with us, packed into a “backpack” that we lug around. Dragging us down, making life harder, and providing no help in getting to the top.
All around us, and with-in us, we have access to tools, skills, knowledge, and relationships, that we don’t take advantage of. And on our backs is a bag full of people, beliefs, habits, feelings, and emotions, that we never confront despite knowing that they don’t serve us, and carry around anyway. What could you be taking advantage of that you’re not? And what could you unpack for an easier life?
Finally I took one pole in each hand, planted them into the ground, and carried on to the top of Half Dome.
Trips Details:
We flew into Fresno Yosemite International Airport on Tuesday evening, and drove one hour to Oakhurst to spend the night at The Inelle. Fresno Airport is two hours south of Yosemite, and Oakhurst is right in the middle on your way to Yosemite. Making it a good place to spend a night or two if you want.
Wednesday we spent the morning exploring Oakhurst. We had a really nice breakfast at Bees Cafe (I recommend), and coffee at Clouds Rest Coffee (also recommend). Oakhurst has a couple of big grocery stores, and so we shopped for food to have in our cabin the next two nights.
We stayed at The Explorers Cabin, part of the Yosemite cabin rentals. It’s just outside the park, about a 35 minute drive to the parking lot where you’ll park and begin your walk to the trailhead for Half Dome.
Thursday morning we were up at 4 am, out the door by 5:15 am, parked by a quarter to 6, and at the trailhead by 6 am. The walk from the parking lot to the trailhead is about 3/4 of a mile.
With stops every 90 minutes or so, plus a 30 minute lunch at the top of Half Dome, we made it up and back to our car in ~10.5 hours. On the way up we took the Mist Trail which takes you along the side of a couple of beautiful waterfalls where you will get pretty wet (hence the name). On the way back we planned on taking the John Muir Trail, but when we saw that it added 1.5 miles to the journey, everyone in our group voted to go down the same way we came, the Mist Trail.
However, we did take the John Muir trail for about a half mile to a natural pool made by a waterfall. At the pool we took off our shoes, some took off their clothes, and jumped into the cold water. It was a really refreshing way to end a long hot day. Even if you’re going to take the Mist Trail down, I do suggest taking the Muir Trail, definitely stop for the pool.
Main blogs/resources we referenced:
All Trails Map:
Half Dome via The John Muir Trail (this is via John Muir, but you can see the Mist Trail and use it to navigate either way).
Permit:
Note: YOU WILL NEED A PERMIT TO GO TO THE TOP OF HALF DOME. ENTER THE LOTTERY HERE: Half Dome Day Hike