JMT 2016 Journal — Day 2 of 25: Half Dome, the Burnt Forest, and Tragic Bear News
Clinging white-knuckled to the cables ascending the iconic Half Dome, sleeping amidst char and ash, and a third squirrel story!
On July 20, 2016, my friend Ovi and I started our 25 day thru-hike of the world famous John Muir Trail (JMT) in the Sierra Nevada mountains of California. What follows is a day-by-day recounting of that epic adventure.
Previously: Day 1 of 25: Glacier Point to Little Yosemite Valley, Rookie Mistake, and a Bear Warning
Thursday, July 27, 2016
When it comes to my circadian rhythm, to use a nature analogy, I’m definitely a night owl. However, on backpacking trips I tend to go to sleep early and wake early, especially if there’s no campfire to socialize around for hours. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy about the early mornings, as this journal entry reminded me:
Journal entry, 7/27/2016
So far we’ve had to wake up way too early every day! Monday at 6 a.m. to catch the train, Tuesday at 6 a.m. to catch the Yosemite shuttle to the visitor center for our permit pick-up. Wednesday at 6 a.m. to catch the bus to Glacier Point for the start of our hike. And today at 5 a.m. to get a head start on the crowds at Half Dome.
And so it was another early morning start, as we left the backcountry campsite at Little Yosemite Valley around 6 a.m. I was incredibly excited and more than a little nervous to climb Half Dome in a few hours. Although not officially part of the JMT, it would have been criminal to pass up the hike to the top of this iconic geological feature. As it turned out, the theme of the day would be steep ascents.
We continued on the JMT for a little over a mile and 900 feet of elevation gain to the junction of the Half Dome trail. Here, per the recommendation of the ranger from the night before, we stashed our heavy packs behind a boulder and transferred a few necessities (water, snacks, sunscreen, first aid kit) into small packs for the grueling 2 mile hike up to the summit, a vertical gain of around 1,800 feet.
Same as our day hike to Vernal Fall and Nevada Fall two days earlier, I was using the Sea To Summit LightPack (I believe now rebranded as the Ultra-Sil Pack). It weighs only 2.5 ounces and unpacks from a tiny little ball into a 20 liter pack. It was well suited for side trips where I didn’t need my full pack, like this hike. I would use it again to summit Mt. Whitney on the last day of our hike.
It took us 3.5 hours from when we left camp in the morning to when we summited Half Dome, a distance of only 3.5 miles. The elevation gain made it slow going, especially when you reach subdome, the smaller “hump” to the east of Half Dome. The seemingly endless switchbacks ascending it are a steep, muscle-burning, lung-blasting machine.
Finally atop, we made a slight descent down and across a narrow 20 foot “saddle” that connects subdome to Half Dome. This is where the famous cables start, spanning the last 400 vertical feet of the climb. They were installed back in 1919 for added safety, since many hikers attempting the climb did not have technical rock climbing skills. It consists of two parallel steel cables bolted directly into the rock face, raised on a series of metal poles, with wood planks laid on the ground between the poles to assist in gaining a foothold on the slippery granite. Since the construction of the cables, there have been 9 deaths on this small portion of the climb, mainly due to inclement weather or people attempting to traverse on the outside of the cables.
The cables was the feature I had spent the most time researching and watching YouTube videos on, as it both fascinated and frightened me. Through my research I had learned that wearing gloves is highly recommended, as they aid in gripping the steel cables while protecting your hands from cuts and blisters. I also knew to expect a pile of used gardening and work gloves at the base of the cables, left by previous hikers. (Note: my guess is that post-pandemic, this is no longer the case, but I don’t know for certain.) We both found suitable gloves for the climb, although as a backup we had also packed our cold weather gloves in our day packs.
We also knew how crowded this hike can get, so we had arrived early enough to beat the rush of day hikers. A ranger stationing at the saddle checked our permits for the climb. The smattering of other hikers were already halfway up, so we had a clear route all the way to the top.
As I slowly ascended the massive granite cap, the feeling of solitude and isolation I felt was both exhilarating and intimidating. I’d never felt so utterly exposed and vulnerable. Nothing can prepare you for the sheer enormity and steepness of this section until you’re standing on that rock wall, gasping for air, holding on to the cables with a death grip, simultaneously reveling in the view and trying not to have a heart attack.
Journal entry, 7/21/2016
Holy shit, that was the hardest thing I’ve done! The steep, tall granite steps to Subdome were a killer. We must have taken over a dozen breaks and we were winded the whole time. The last bit just before reaching the Cables was almost a scramble.
The Cables…wow! Lots of upper body strength needed. The trickiest parts were the gaps where one set of cables ended and another started, or where there was a big step up due to an overlapping granite layer. The sheer height and grade of the incline, combined with the worn granite that has become slippery, made the climb scary as hell.
Once we made it to the top we took a nice long break, hydrated, and had some snacks. At 8,800 feet, rising some 4,000+ feet above the Yosemite valley, the views were spectacular, as expected. The plateau of the summit was much larger than I had expected, roughly the size of a football field.
I explored the summit, and of course had to take a walk out to the thin rock outcrop referred to as “The Visor.” The gusts of wind coming off the face of the feature were strong enough to put a healthy dose of fear in me, and I wisely didn’t attempt to sit on the very edge. We spent about 45 minutes at the top, unable to tear ourselves away from the dazzling views.
A funny, yet puzzling sight I witnessed just before we started our climb back down was a squirrel stealing someone’s granola bar and scurrying under a pile of rocks with its ill-gotten gains. I had to wonder how the heck a squirrel even got up here, and how did it survive? Obtaining food I had just seen a demonstration of, but where did it find water? So many questions, but no real answers.
It was around 10 a.m. when we started our descent, and by that time there was a solid line of climbers making their way up the cables, like a multicolored snake. The crowds made our decent both slow and precarious. Alternating stepping on the planks with those coming up, and the intricate dance of getting around bodies while maintaining a grip on the cables was almost zen-like, as it demanded deep focus and concentration.
Upon reaching the trail junction again, my legs felt like jelly and my knees were prepared to mutiny. After another break, we retrieved our packs and bear canisters and continued on the JMT in the direction of Sunrise Meadow. A short distance later, we came upon an unexpected sight: a fire-ravaged section of forest. Every tree trunk left standing was charred, while a green blanket of fresh underbrush was just starting to emerge. From a distance, it looked like bizarre black quills shooting out of the green earth, reaching towards the blue sky.
After about a mile or so, not seeing any improvement in the landscape, we decided to just camp there for the night, as we were exhausted. Even though we had only hiked about 7 miles, the punishing ascent and descent of Half Dome had really sapped all our strength. We found a clearing near a small stream, pitched our tents, and laid around like zombies for a few hours before working up the willpower to filter water and prepare our dinners. We could tell all our gear was going to be covered with soot and ash, but we were too tired to care.
Journal entry, 7/21/2016
The landscape around camp is surreal. The ground is littered with burnt and charred tree trunks, branches, and bark. It’s dead and desolate. A lot of the burnt branches have warped into “curly Qs.” After stepping on one I freaked myself out, thinking it was a snake as it “wriggled” under my foot!
Camping in the midst of the devastation caused by a fire, my mind was on the topic of life and death. Earlier in the day, atop Half Dome, we had met another ranger and he gave us an update on the bear we heard about the night before from the ranger at Little Yosemite Valley. The one that had been stealing food from campsites. He explained that it was an older female, and they had darted it with a GPS tracker a couple nights ago, and last night they had finally trapped and tranquilized her, fitting her with a GPS tracking collar. But due to her age and the fact that she had become used to stealing people food, he didn’t think the outlook was positive. “Repeat offenders” at her age typically don’t go back to foraging food in the wild, and he thought most likely she would be euthanized for safety reasons.
That news really hit me hard, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor bear, who was simply trying to feed herself. We were the trespassers in her domain, and yet she would have to pay the ultimate price. But I also understood the forest service’s position, as you can’t take the risk of such a powerful wild animal interacting with humans, especially when it has lost its fear of people. It didn’t help that I was physically and mentally exhausted as I reflected on this tragic event, literally surrounded by death and destruction.
But in the end, I had to remind myself that despite tragedies and hardship, life and nature endure. Just walking around our campsite, I could see examples of life flourishing, even even in the midst of all the devastation.
