Little Girl, Big Rock

It was February 2000 when Melissa called and asked if I wanted to hike up Yosemite's famous Half Dome. Not one to even blink at a challenge, I heartily accepted. After all, Labor Day was months away, which would give me plenty of time to train. Finally, the catalyst for my healthy lifestyle regime! Having 12 jobs, including one as a restaurant reviewer, kept me busy, but frankly, my clothes were shrinking and I needed an excuse to get back into shape. "THE DOME WILL SAVE ME," I thought, until Labor Day reared its ugly head and I was faced with the reality of getting that call from Melissa. Six months had passed and all I had lifted were pints of beer which made several quick stops at my lips, then rested comfortably at my gut. The only hiking I had done was to climb the stairs at work when the elevator wasn't working. My only hope was that Melissa was in the same boat and we would run out and laugh at our silly scheme over pitchers of margaritas and buckets of nachos. "You better not chicken out on me," she said as I poked around for any sign of giving up. While she hadn't so much as taken a walk around the block the entire time, it was...a "lifelong dream, and I'll go alone if I have to." I think not. A party girl I am, but a prideful one. No way was I going to walk around knowing that she did it and I didn't. No way. I would crawl up that hill if I had to, and I practically did...

Bridal Veil Falls

We left the East Bay around noon on Friday, thinking we would get there in plenty of time to grab our permits for the overnight camp stay in Little Yosemite Valley and the mood in the car was over the top. We were singing our annoying 70's rock ballads from Journey and Van Halen, inhaling Jumbo Ranch Sunflower seeds and calling the Dome all kinds of names unfit for a PG movie. Apparently, this was going to weaken the rock so it would be easier to climb.
The week before, Mel conquered the aisles at REI and stocked up with a new stove, a back back and other supplies. I borrowed and begged for most of my gear, including a day pack from Kris Peterson, my friend Heather's hubby. That was a bad move, I would later discover, and contrary to poplar belief, size DOES matter. ( A pack should definitely fit properly.) I did manage to get a new pair of TEVA hiking boots and a Camelback water carrier. I also bought some freeze-dried food, Powerbars and jerky. At least, I thought, I would have a decent last meal before I plunged to the neverworld.
As we pulled in to the Valley, Mel ran into the camp store to pick up the permit to camp overnight. I was in the car day dreaming, half-crazed and trying to talk myself into running out of the car and hitch-hiking to the Ahwahnne Lodge for Bloody Mary's while I came up with a good excuse to flake out. After all, this was 12,000 feet give or take. It's that big, beautiful monster in the postcards and Ansel Adams photos. Only crazy people do this, right? It was no use. I couldn't wuss out because I would never hear the end of it and...well, it would eventually make a great story.
If climbing to the top in two days sounded daunting, Melissa's next announcement was downright insane.
"We were supposed to reserve a spot ahead of time for the Valley..." Gulp. Perhaps this was my opportunity to weasel out? "But, you better not weasel out!" she said. Crap.
So, we decided to do the entire thing in a day. We rented one of those tent-cabins in the Village, watched a video of bears tearing off car doors, and after a hearty meal of freeze-dried beef something of other, we settled in for an early night.

Up, Up, Up!

We got up around 4 a.m., loaded our packs and headed out. For some reason, I decided to prepare for a hike to Everest because I saw a sign that read "Weather Can Change At Any Minute." I'm sure that if I searched my backpack thoroughly, I would have found a kitchen sink. (One of about 813 lessons I would learn over the weekend.) We had two options up the Valley: either the Muir trail, which was longer but not as steep, or Bridal Veil Falls, which was quicker but the steps all came up to my neck. We went with the "you should been born taller," trail, because we had just one day to get to the top and back.

The year 2000 saw a fair few floods and avalanches in the park, so everything was just a bit askew. I practically crawled to the top of Bridal Veil and quickly decided that all of the giggling twenty-somethings sporting sandals and drinking beer needed to go away. Didn't they know it was rude to show people up? I was sure the long-legged, sure-footed Melissa was just trying to humor me by staying slow and waiting for me at every turn, and won't ever admit it because she is such a good friend.

We arrived at Little Yosemite Valley about 3 or 4 hours into this purgatory, and discovered a gorgeous little clearing with shade, places to sleep and even bathrooms. This was supposed to be our oasis for the previous night and I would recommend it to anyone who wants a beautiful spot to pack-in and camp. I tried to take-in the wildflowers, woodland creatures and amazing views along the way, but mostly I was just staring, even cursing at the dirt in front of me. I even caught myself screaming at a few of the 400 false summits that mocked my every turn.

Then, around noon, something amazing happened. After lugging twice my weight up the boulders, rock beds, valleys and dusty trails we turned a corner and before us stood...more granite boulders. Yet, I wasn't the slightest bit angry or bitter. I was ready, fired up and practically ran up the second to the last leg of the climb. There lie a sort of zig-zag ascent to the back of the face, that only mountain goats and crazy people would ascend. I noticed that many people were conceding defeat, but from this vista I realized why we were doing this and why John Muir must have wept the first time he stepped onto that summit. It's not only where eagles fly, but where they live.

The last part of the journey meant a serious climb up the back using steel cables. It was daunting, but easy considering the hundreds of people who were looking for the ultimate summit at the same time. At the bottom of the cables, rested hundreds of old climbing gloves, the tools used and then passed on from climber to climber, veteran to rookie.

Top of the World

Once I hit the top, I was a changed woman. My fatigue and worry dissolved with the hot wind that whipped the hats, jackets and Frisbees around the moon-like surface. The smiles of those who conquered that mountain were born of every nationality I could imagine. A husband from Japan crawling out to a jutted surface, begging his wife to take his photo. A group of Dutch students, laughing and drinking the wine they had so carefully stored for this historic toast. A father and son team from Italy, hugging and crying while trying to flirt with every girl they could find. Together, we all felt somehow immortal and at the same time, so very tiny and insignificant.

That was the moment I realized that Mel's little seed sixth months prior had bore fruit I couldn't had dreamed of. I realized that I could accomplish anything I set my mind to and more significantly, I didn't conquer Half Dome and it didn't beat me. We came together and shared an experience that no one else will ever completely understand. At the end, I really hated having to leave the world famous granite rock, but I know in my heart, it won't ever leave me.

For more information about Half Dome and Yosemite or equipment and gear, go to:

www.nps.gov/yos
www.halfdomecam.com
www.yosemite.org
www.sierraclub.org
www.teva.com
www.rei.com