Monthly Archive for November, 2004

What Happened Since Graduation, pt II: Road Trip V2

Road Trip V2 is what my brother David (hereafter Dav, pronounced “Dave”) and I decided to call our cross-country road trip. On the morning we left San Francisco for Orlando, we printed out two TripTiks to guide us home, but by different routes. We ultimately chose the second one, hence “V2″. But V2 is also a climbers’ rating of bouldering difficulty–the rating that happened to be right at the top of Dav’s and my skill levels–and since we planned on the road trip being a climbing road trip, it was fitting in that sense as well. So here is the chronicle of that 2-week adventure, replete with the most pictures of any entry in this series (I think).

Monday, June 14, 2004
Dav and I woke up early that morning in our family’s San Francisco apartment, and packed up our things. We also hadn’t planned a specific route home yet–we just had some vague notions we wanted to visit a few key places. So we got online and printed out a few route options, figuring nothing was set in stone. Our only hard-and-fast deadline was that we needed to be in Orlando by the 25th, since I started work on Sunday, the 27th. With the help of our family, we got my bike and snowboard back on top of the car, loaded the trunk with as many boxes of my stuff as possible, filled the backseat with our climbing and hiking gear, and were off around 9am.

Our first stop was Castle Rock State Park, my “home” climbing area, being the closest to Stanford at about a 45-minute drive. There we met my college roommate and climbing partner Dan Urban for a morning of lead climbing and bouldering. We wanted to make sure to do some lead climbing under Dan’s more professional eye, to make sure that, if Dav and I wanted, we could set up our own lead climbs during the course of the road trip. So, we spent a few hours training and having fun, and then it was time to set off on the first major leg of our adventure: Yosemite.

We said our goodbyes to Dan and then made a brief stop at the Saratoga REI, where we loaded up on camp food and miscellaneous gear. Then it was off to the Valley–about a 4-hour drive away. It was an uneventful drive, except for a little apprehension on my part as it was the first time my bike and snowboard were subjected to sustained high speeds. But Yakima be praised–everything (including my self-guided installation of the rack) seemed solid.

We rolled into Yosemite about mid-evening and spent a little bit driving around, showing Dav some of the cooler formations like the Cathedral and El Capitan. When it got dark, we made our way to Camp 4, my resting place of the previous weekend. Being the summer, there were no campsites available, so Dav and I threw our sleeping bags on the ground somewhere on the outskirts of the camp and settled in for the evening. I didn’t sleep very well, since a lot of weird feelings were rolling around inside me regarding graduating, leaving my home, starting a road trip that wasn’t planned very well, being “in charge” and responsible for myself and for my brother’s safety.

Tuesday, June 15, 2004
But the early morning came soon enough anyway, and so Dav and I packed up our things and drove to Happy Isles, where we picked up the trail to hike up Half-Dome–a trail which by now was looking very familiar, given the 4 times I’d traversed it just 10 days prior. I was feeling really good, and Dav was keeping up, so we blasted through the first section of the trail and kept a pretty intense pace up past both waterfalls on the stairstep sections. We’d started relatively late (6am or so), so we passed up a number of groups on the way up.

Dav and I practically raced the rest of the way, slowing down only near the final set of stairsteps before the cables, when Dav began to feel ill. As it would later become evident, he had contracted altitude sickness (undoubtedly due to our fast ascent). I didn’t think that was the case at the time, though, given Dav’s high level of fitness and the relatively low altitude we were at (say 7500 ft). So I unwisely pushed him to continue at a pretty decent clip. As we neared the cables, though, it soon became apparent that something was fairly seriously wrong, and Dav was having to take frequent breaks and fighting off intense nausea. We were close then, so he didn’t want to turn back; he manfully kept on, following me up the last, most difficult segment: the cables. And then we were up! I looked at my watch then to see how long it had taken us, and I was surprised: only 3 and a half hours! A whole hour and a half faster than the last time I’d done the hike, and that even with the relatively slow finish.

We thought having a good long rest would settle Dav’s problems, so we munched on energy bars and tried to take a little nap on the warm and sunny summit (such a different experience than the frigid night of the previous week), enjoying the view.


Dav and I on Half-Dome

Instead of improving, Dav’s condition worsened, and he eventually started vomiting up his food and water. At that point I began to get very worried, because if something was so wrong that he could not keep water down, it would be a pretty dangerous 8-mile trek back to the car. And then what? I didn’t know how to get any medical attention, even if we could make it back! I kept these thoughts to myself, and focused on getting us down. So we started down the cables, down the long stairs, and back to the “treeline”, where, wonderfully, Dav pronounced himself all better. It finally occurred to me that he had indeed been experiencing altitude sickness, and most of my fears went away. He was fine the rest of the way down, and we took it pretty easy.


Cool rainbow at the bottom of one of the falls


Me in the mist!

After we made it back, we enjoyed some burgers and beer at Curry Village, and even ran into some family friends from LA. Well, the first stop on Road Trip V2 had been a success, and so it was time to move on. We got the car ready, and navigated the confusing Yosmite road system, trying to find the eastern exit to the park.

On the way, we were treated to some of the most amazing scenery I have ever looked on, from majestic forests to granite cliffs and mountains, to bright green glacial meadows, to nearby peaks with snow in mid-summer. This was the area called Tuolumne, and I will definitely be visiting it again in future adventures. Here are a few pictures:


A random beautiful lake


An alpine meadow

On this route east through Yosemite, we went through Tioga pass, which marked the highest elevation my car had ever been: 9,945 ft. As proof:


Tioga pass gate

From there it was downhill into the elevated desert of eastern California. The plan was to hit Bishop, CA that night, camp, and boulder in Bishop the next day. We knew nothing about Bishop except that it was reputed to have some of the best bouldering anywhere. And we knew its location, thanks to our TripTik.

All told, it was probably about a 6-7 hour trip to Bishop. We didn’t see any boulders or campgrounds in the small town itself, though, so we decided we needed to ask around. Luckily, there was an awesome outdoors store that we stumbled upon, and its staff was more than helpful. We got info about campsites and bouldering areas, and purchased more camp food (dried spaghetti and meatballs), a guide to the bouldering in the area, and a road atlas of the US, Canada, and Mexico (something we’d left home without, and something which came in very handy).


Blurry picture of the sunset on our way out of Bishop

We left the store at dark and made our way to a self-pay campsite which we’d unknowingly passed on the way in, about 10 miles outside of town. It was supposedly close to the Happy Boulders, which was the bouldering area Dav and I had decided to check out in Bishop (there are several, as well as some good top-roping in a nearby gorge). Unfortunately, after we paid, we discovered that the campsite was hell. It was right by a small stream, which we thought would be excellent in the arid climate, but which turned out to mean billions of mosquitoes and other bugs. It got so bad that, even though the temperature had to be well into the 80s (even after dark), Dav and I put on pants, gloves and jackets, and fashioned turbans out of shirts. We then proceeded to protect our faces by smoking our pipes as furiously as possible while getting the dried spaghetti and meatballs wet and hot enough to eat over my camp stove.

After we executed the tactical move called “get your ass into the tent and don’t let any of those little shits in with you”, the night got considerably better, and we slept pretty well through the hot, moonless night.

Wednesday, June 16, 2004
The sun rose early, and so did we. We packed our gear up amidst the bugs that were still faintly buzzing around, and drove to a nearby well where we pumped water into our nalgenes just like you’ve seen them do it on Little House on the Prairie, or whatever that show is that I didn’t see where people live in the country. From there, we took my little Civic on the most torturous dirt roads she’d ever seen. We cruised at a sweet 5mph over giant ripples in the dirt for about 2 miles to where we decided the trail to the Happy Boulders started.

Then it was up a steep trail for about a half a mile until we came to the south end of the Happies, and had a half-day of some excellent bouldering. We saw a few other boulderers (with whom we had friendly, climber-like conversations) but for the most part the region was ours, save for the vultures floating ominously overhead in the dry air.

We tried a number of bouldering routes that were outlined on the map we had bought, but most proved to be beyond our ability. To give you a sense of perspective, some of the routes in the area were rated V10 or V12, whereas the hardest route I was able to complete was rated V1 (I don’t think I pulled off a V2, which would have been fitting for the trip). That route was called Beer Tumor, and it was possibly the funnest outdoor bouldering problem I’ve done. It started at a pretty burly sit-start in a cave, then out through a roof up onto some really sharp crimpy stuff for an athletic mantle finish. (Of course, being a V1, words like “burly” and “athletic” should be taken relatively). Here’s a picture of me making my way out of the roof:


Me on Beer Tumor

As 11am rolled around, Dav and I started to wear down, and the sharp volcanic rock of the Happies started to rend our hands useless for further climbing. The temperature’s own climb into the high 90s also influenced our decision to call it quits for the successful day.


Dav and I posing with the car after bouldering

So we got into that car and headed south from Bishop, down the eastern edge of the Sierras. The terrain in this part of California was very interesting, as to our right we had the Sierras with their snow, and to our left the deathly dry and hot salt flats, or dried-out lake beds, or whatever it was. Once we almost ran out of gas going up a very long incline, and stopped to refuel in Johannesburg, CA. As the following picture proves, it is a very small town.


Post Office, grocery store, and gas station, all in the same building

Well, eventually we’d got far enough south, and decided to head southwest, towards LA. The idea was to hit the 10, which we would then take east to the 62 (or whatever road it is), north to Joshua Tree national park. We found the 10, and immediately wished we hadn’t (as does anybody who’s driven on the 10, probably). But after the sucky traffic in the middle of nowhere that didn’t make any sense, we got out into the real nowhere and headed north to Joshua Tree. We drove in around 6 hours after we’d left, scored one of the many campsites (Joshua Tree is very hot and empty in the summers), and went back outside the park to the actual town of Joshua Tree for some dinner (at the same Sam’s Pizza and Indian Food restaurant as this last time I went to Joshua Tree, when I almost died). We got this amazing picture on the way:


Sunset leaving Joshua Tree

After dinner, we headed straight back to the tent and tried to get some sleep in preparation for the next day of bouldering we had planned. Since it was such a warm night, and since I felt very comfortable in Joshua Tree after the last time I’d been there, I decided to sleep outside under the stars, on the rock. It was beautiful.

Thursday, June 17, 2004
We woke up with the sun again, in order to conserve as much coolness as possible, and drove over to the Wonderland of Rocks to mess around on some boulders. We worked on a few problems, and then stayed at Gunsmoke, a real, live V2, for a while. Gunsmoke is a really fun, very long traverse which works various cracks along two sides of a corner wall.


Dav on Gunsmoke


Me at the same place on Gunsmoke

Neither of us did the whole problem from start to finish, but we did enough for me to proclaim it the trip V2, if only so that we have something to justify the name!

From there we moved to another area of J-Tree, and did some more problems, but it was starting to get insanely hot, and our energy was sapped more and more by the minute. So again we called it quits around midday, and packed up our campsite to head out.

Our next destination: Phoenix. We didn’t know exactly what we would do there, but we used to live there (I was born there, in fact), and have a good number of friends there, so we figured we could stay for a day or two and hang out, or recover from the intense, showerless few days that had passed.

Another 6 hours on I-10, and we had made it, through some of the craziest desert headwinds I’ve ever been in (I’m sure the bike-shaped sail on top of my little 4-cylinder car didn’t help). On the way we had made plans to stay with the Carusos, family friends from when we were little kids. We pulled into their place in south Phoenix (or it may have been Tempe) just before dinner, and frightened them with our grizzled appearances.

After showers, they recognized us, and we had a wonderful dinner with Jim, Marla, Amy, and Kaitlyn (Amy and Kaitlyn are Dav’s and my age), catching up on life since the last time we’d seen them (which was probably closer to 10 than 5 years ago).

Friday, June 18, 2004
The following day, Dav and I woke up late, and took a drive around Phoenix, seeing some of the places we used to visit whenever we’d come to Phoenix in the summers as kids. We drove around ASU, where my parents met and got married, and went to lunch at In ‘N Out (just because I’d forgot to take Dav to one in California). We tried to get in touch with some other people we knew, but on such short notice it didn’t work out.

That night we went along with the Carusos to their weekly family dinner, with relatives who lived nearby. It was a fun group, and cool to see so much family that had stayed in one place and made it a point to get together frequently. In fact, they’d all purchased some land and were planning on building houses together.

To close off the evening Dav and I went over to Amy and Kaitlyn’s apartment and watched Legally Blonde, and did some more catching up and talking about life with them. It’s awesome to have friends who, no matter how often or when you met them on the path of life, there still seems to be something of a common bond and a shared experience within which you can talk about just about anything.

Saturday, June 19, 2004
On Saturday, Dav and I drove up to Rimrock, AZ, where my aunt Cindy and uncle Jeff live. Jeff is a volunteer firefighter, among other things, and Cindy works at a nearby hotel. It was good to spend the day with them, since of all my close relatives we probably see them the least!

We imposed on the Carusos for one more night, and went with them to see a local league indoor soccer game, where guys from their church played some other team. It made me remember how much I missed playing soccer. And that’s really all there is to say about that day.

Sunday, June 20, 2004
Dav and I slept in on Sunday while the Carusos went to church. We woke up and did some laundry, then packed for the remainder of the trip. Incidentally, this is when I used their computer to check e-mail and weblogs, and noticed that this weblog (along with the rest of what was on my two web servers) had been deleted. Threatening letters were sent to my hosting service, but to no avail. Also, when I was working on the computer, it died, and the contents of its hard drives were erased by a virus (which had been downloaded before I used it). All in all, not a good day for information technology as far as it related to me.

At 2pm, we thanked the Carusos for their hospitality, and started the drive to Texas. We planned on driving from Phoenix to Austin, straight through the night, and it was supposed to take 18-20 hours, depending on any number of variables. So we were off!

The drive through the Arizona and New Mexico desert was without incident and quite beautiful–the stretch of I-10 from a few hours east of LA into El Paso is one of my favorite pieces of highway in the country. When the evening hit, we stopped at a Love’s truckstop in New Mexico, where we got dinner and I lost one of my nalgene bottles. Then, David got behind the wheel for the first time of the trip. I had a fair bit of anxiety as Dav had never really driven stick before except once or twice, and I was giving him all sorts of verbal instruction pulling out of the truckstop. Thankfully, it was an easy, non-hilly move onto the highway, and we were again on our way.

We hit Texas around 9pm, and drove through El Paso, with the big, white, American Interstate lights above us and the softer, yellow-gold, haphazardly-placed lights of the Mexican city Juarez to our right, just across a border which was invisible in the night.

A few hours east of El Paso, we ran into an inspection station, where Dav experienced his first stop and go traffic with a standard vehicle. The only problem was, the car wasn’t going–he kept stalling it! So a huge space was opening up in front of us, and I was worried that the officials would notice something odd going on, get suspicious about our vehicle, and want to search it. We had so many boxes in the car, I didn’t want that kind of wasted time on our hands. So I gave Dav 3 tries and then told him to switch seats, even though I could tell he really wanted to do it on his own. Thankfully, nothing strange happened with the inspectors–they asked me if the car belonged to me, and that was it. Not a fruit inspection as usual, so I wonder what they were looking for.

So I was driving again after a few hours’ rest, through the dark of west Texas. There was a large storm up ahead which took up the whole eastern sky, and would periodically expose the stubby trees in a ghostly blur with beautiful lightning as the car sped past them. I’m somewhat paranoid when it comes to Texas storms, though, especially in the summer, since I’d experienced a fair number of tornadic or near-tornadic events; this meant the storm, beautiful though it was, made me unsettled. What’s worse, it seemed as though we were getting closer only slowly, which meant that it was probably moving in the same direction, which in turn meant that getting through the storm would take that much longer.

Monday, June 21, 2004
Luckily, I-10 took a more due-easterly turn, and so we seemed to be on a course which would circumvent the bulk of the storm. Still, for hours upon end, it stayed on the horizon, menacing and wild.

Eventually I began to get sleepy and the car needed gas, so we pulled off somewhere after Sonora, TX, where we refueled and I gave Dav another chance to drive. He did fine without the pressure of the inspection station, and I was soon fast asleep as he drove, listening to David Gray.

I woke up again before dawn, only a few hours outside of Austin. When we needed gas again, and when we left I-10 in favor of a more direct country road, I took charge of the car and took it all the way to our destination: my uncle David and aunt Sarah’s house in west Austin. I don’t remember exactly when we arrived; it was probably 7:30 or 8:00 am. Our aunt was ready for us, though, and had made up some beds so we went right to sleep.

Dav and I woke up a little after 12, and spent the afternoon hanging out with our little cousin Ryan, who is like 5. He likes video games, so Dav and I had no problem entertaining him and ourselves with whatever console my aunt and uncle had.

For dinner that night, the 5 of us went out to a supposedly classic restaurant near UT which I’ve forgotten the name of, but was known for its “down-home cookin”. There we met my other aunt Sarah, who lives a ways north of Austin. She gave us a surprise during conversation; she had just found out she was pregnant! So I have another cousin on the way. If all goes well, that will bring the total cousin count to 2.

Tuesday, June 22, 2004
Dav and I said our goodbyes to family on Tuesday morning, and started the 3-hour drive north to the Dallas area, where we were to stay for a few days. We used to live in Cedar Hill, TX, which is a suburb of Dallas. Cedar Hill is full of interesting landmarks like this one:


The water tower

We got in about midday to the Morrises’ house. The Morrises are family friends like the Carusos, and were some of our best friends in Texas. As it happened, David had been dating Ellen Morris since the previous October, due to a number of circumstances which there isn’t time to relate. But anyway, they had become serious in their relationship and Ellen was moving to Gainesville so she and David could relate to one another in a short-distance sort of way. We spent the next few days helping her pack and get ready, as she and David were going to drive her car to Orlando while I drove mine. Caravans!

I hung out with Nathan Pettijohn, my best friend growing up, that night. While I was waiting for him at Barnes and Nobles, I randomly ran into a few other friends from high school, which is odd, because I’ve never ran into anyone from high school in Cedar Hill since I moved. So Nathan, Claire, her friend, and I hung out, listened to music, and had beer at Bennigan’s until late in the evening.

Wednesday, June 23, 2004
The next day, I indulged myself and allowed myself to visit CD Warehouse, which, in the Cedar Hill / Duncanville area, tends to have some of the best and newest indie-type music around. I picked up some cool stuff by Muse, Elliott Smith, the Doves, and Aimee Mann.

Importantly, David took Ellen’s parents out to dinner that night, and asked for her hand in marriage, while I stayed behind with Ellen and her cousin and her aunt and talked about what David was doing (for some reason there wasn’t much of a secret). Well, there it was: just a matter of time until my brother was (probably) engaged. Crazy.

That night I took a drive up Central Expwy to Cafe Brazil to meet a friend from Stanford, Joe-Joe Chen, who was living in Plano at the time. It was pretty crazy to see a Stanford friend in that environment, since Stanford and Texas have never mixed for me, since I’ve been living in Orlando as long as Stanford was a potential or actual part of my life. In fact, only Tyson Vozza, of all my Stanford friends, has ever visited me in Orlando. (That will change in a month, however).

Anyway, I got back late, which was very bad, because we were planning on leaving at 6am for the long, straight shot to Orlando, which was supposed to be around a 21-hour drive.

Thursday, June 24, 2004
On Thursday, I did the most driving I’ve ever done in one day in my entire life. Originally, Dav, Ellen, and I had made plans of rotating drivers and giving the off-driver a chance to sleep. However, the two lovebirds were obviously having such a good time hanging out by themselves in their own car, that I ended up driving my car the whole way by myself.

Ironically, I was the most tired at the beginning of the drive (probably due to only getting 5 and a half hours of sleep), through the gently rolling hills and forests of east Texas. We were in Louisiana before I knew it, though, and from there it was just more and more of the same.


Some bridge in some south-eastern state

The only problem was, it rained for roughly 95% of the trip. In fact, the only time I can remember seeing sunlight was when the above picture was taken. Not only did this slow us down, but the constant storms demanded a lot more mental control and energy to drive safely in. We finally passed through them just as night set in, after hitting the Florida panhandle.


Me rocking out in my car, getting close to (or possibly in) Florida

We were in Florida for at least as much time as we were out of it; the panhandle is surprisingly long. Apart from stops for food and gas, though, we made good time. Right about Tallahassee, I started feeling a bit drowsy, so I pounded some of those caffeine drink things and pretended they would help.

Friday, June 25, 2004
And that’s about all there is to tell; we stopped in Gainesville (home of the UF Gators) to drop off Ellen’s car, since David’s was in Orlando and they could drive that up the next day. So Ellen, David, and Hunter Trek (Ellen’s dog) slept soundly in my little car as I drove the last 2 hours home. We finally pulled in around 2 or 3 am, and my parents welcomed us into the townhouse that serves as their interim home, and is where I still live.

After a lot of sleep, I woke up and began to unpack, a chore that would not finish for about a month (and still can’t be said to be complete, I suppose). David and Ellen drove back up to Gainesville to settle into their apartments and start summer school. And I braced myself for the next adventure: starting work!

What Happened Since Graduation, pt I: The Week of Graduation

As I noted in the previous entry, it has been quite a long time since I said anything of substance on the weblog. Well, it’s time to catch up. So get ready for “What Happened Since Graduation”–a weblog series in an as-yet-undertemined number of parts. We begin with “The Week of Graduation”. I guess technically this can’t cover any of the time since graduation (being before it), but that week is important, so we will cover it anyway.

All Spring Quarter, Dan Urban (companion of previous adventures) and I had been dreaming of doing another summer night hike of Half-Dome in Yosemite, like the one we did in the summer of 2002. Except this time we wanted to get all of our friends together for an end-of-college, last hurrah sort of adventure. Accordingly, we planned a night hike of Half-Dome for the night of Saturday, June 5, 2004, and invited just about everybody we knew.

Being somewhat climbingly oriented, Dan and I wanted to do a little more than just a night hike. We wanted to climb Half Dome via a route called Snake Dike, rumoured to be one of the funnest climbs in Yosemite, with stunning views. Snake Dike is (I think) a 9-pitch climb up the side of Half-Dome (not the back, where you can hike up, or the front, with its sheer face)–around a thousand-foot climb. Certainly longer than anything I’ve done before (my longest route was a 2-pitch in Thailand. Snake Dike had a rating of 5.7R, which means a rating of 5.7 with “runout” pitches. 5.7 is just about the easiest rating–in a gym, a route with that rating is often climbable by people who are climbing for the first time. Still, things are different outdoors, and when you have a 9-pitch route, with some bolted clips and some trad protection, it becomes another story. All the same, the climbing was well within my level, and well below Dan’s.

The “R” was a little scary though–”runout” means that sometimes there is a very long way between bolts or protection points (which is where climbers put a piece of gear into a crack in the rock or into a bolt in order to provide protection in case they fall). The way lead climbing works is that, if you make a mistake and fall, if you are currently above the last piece of gear you placed, you will fall down to that gear, and then the same distance again, since you are on a rope (plus some rope stretch). Snake Dike reportedly had runouts of up to 75 feet. This meant that if a climber fell just before reaching the bolt which was 75 feet away from the last, he would fall 150 feet before the rope would go taut. Clearly, falling 150 feet is a bad idea. So: an easy route technically, but long and with no room for mistakes.

Dan and I tossed around the idea of climbing Snake Dike at night, while our friends hiked Half-Dome the normal route, and meeting them on the summit. But we threw away that notion because it was (a) too obviously dangerous, and (b) nullified our goal of hiking with our friends. Therefore, since it was absolutely necessary that our friends experience a night hike, as opposed to a day hike, Dan and I realized we would have to summit Half-Dome twice: once on Snake Dike during the day, and once with our friends at night. As we further looked at our schedules for our last week of school, we realized that we would have to accomplish all of this in a short amount of time, with relatively little rest in between endeavors.

So ultimately, the plan was this: drive to Yosemite on Friday the 4th, get an early sleep, wake up before dawn, climb Snake Dike, hike the 8 miles back down Half-Dome, eat dinner, meet our friends who would be arriving, hike back up the 8 miles of Half-Dome at night, greet the sunrise on the top, and then come back down. It seemed like a good plan, so we settled on it, and left Stanford at midday Friday as we had decided.

The drive to the Valley was successful, and we found a spot for our sleeping bags and camp stoves at Camp 4. This was illegal, since the camp was “full”, but we were planning on being out before the rangers came around the next morning, so we didn’t worry about it. Around 9:30 or 10:00 pm, we finally had eaten dinner and settled in for sleep. I slept well, but was nervous thinking about the long climb the next day.


Half-Dome in the sunset, taken while driving into Yosemite Valley

We woke up before 5am, packed up our gear, and drove to Happy Isles, which is at the base of the trail up Half-Dome. We were on the trail fairly quickly, for the hike to the base of Snake Dike. That hike follows the Half-Dome hiking trail for 3 or 4 strenuous miles, and then goes off-trail towards the dome (while the regular trail continues to circle around the dome).


A view from the way to Snake Dike. The route itself follows the shadow on the left side of the dome up to the summit.

Since there was no trail, we followed little cairns (piles) of rocks which previous climbers had used to mark the way. Sometimes these were devious guides, though, and led us in the wrong direction. But after about an hour of trucking through forests and even a swampy area, we came to the very base of the dome itself–an area of slabs.

“Slab”, in climbing terminology, just means any rock which is leaning away from you (as opposed to “overhang”, which is rock which is leaning towards you). If a wall is “slabby” enough, you can walk up it carefully without any ropes (just like you would walk up a steep hill). We saw that a series of cairns went up these slabs towards the base of Snake Dike so we followed them.


The foot of the slab approach to Snake Dike

The slabs kept getting steeper and steeper as we went up, and pretty soon I was feeling very unsecure with the shoes I had on, which were quite good trail running shoes, but lacked the sticky rubber of climbing shoes which enables one to put less foot surface area onto the rock while maintaining friction. We saw that we were getting closer, though, so I pressed on, with Dan a ways ahead (his shoes were slightly better suited to the task, having this climbing rubber). There were a few points where I had to make a sprint for a tree or some other anchor sideway across the slab, since if I moved any slower my shoes would fail and I would slide down however many hundreds of feet. Once you start sliding down a steep slab, it’s incredibly hard to stop–and if you start tumbling, it’s pretty much over.

Finally, I had made a lunge into a position which was impossible to get safely out of. The slab was too steep to press on, and the scree all around made it impossible to go down (since going down requires more friction than going up). Dan was fortunately able to get to a rock outcropping above me about 30 feet and blindly toss down a rope, after he had anchored himself around a tree. After a while I caught the rope and was able to pull myself up to Dan. From that vantage point, we could see that we had come up the wrong way–while we had followed a few cairns, the vast majority of them did not go up the slabs immediately as we had done, but made a level path on the shallower slabs until it came to a more step-like and less slabby way up towards Snake Dike.

Needless to say, I was exhausted from the thousands of feet of hiking, the hundreds of feet of crazy slab running, and hauling myself up a rope. And in fact, being trapped on slab where I could not even rest my muscles fully had scared me pretty bad. So we hiked the last hour up the pretty grueling terrain to the base of the climb with a good bit of apprehension. But we had finally finished the non-climbing part of the climb. And it was 9am.


Looking up from the base of Snake Dike

In the picture, you can see a dot a ways up. That’s a person climbing the route ahead of us. We had started at 5:30 am, and this group was at least an hour and a half ahead of us! That’s dedication. But to give you a sense of scale, the climber is not even a third of the way up the route.


Dan on a crazy runout

Here we can see Dan on one of those really long runouts I was talking about. If he had fallen there, things would not have looked good for him (or me, if he landed on me). Luckily, Dan’s climbing prowess was not overestimated, and we made it to the end of the 9th pitch without any problems, a few exhilirating hours later. The climb wasn’t over then, though. We unroped and prepared for the last leg–more slabs, but this time we had our climbing shoes on and the going was not as frightening. It was steep and difficult, however, and terribly aerobically taxing at almost 9,000 feet above sea level. Nothing was about to stop us at that point, though–we finally made it!


Dan and I on the top, Sierras in the background

After a brief rest (and a brief bask in the admiration of those hikers at the top who happened to notice we had come up the wrong side), we noticed it was about 2pm (Snake Dike takes a long time when you make 1 person lead, as I made Dan, since you have to switch gear at every belay–I wasn’t about to try any runouts!) and started the descent. We didn’t push ourselves and got down sometime in the late afternoon, probably between 4 and 5. So, at least 5 miles of uphill hiking, a thousand feet of climbing, and 8 miles of downhill hiking later, we were exhausted. We rewarded ourselves with an extra-large pizza and a pitcher of beer and joined a table of climbers who were a bit more seasoned than ourselves for some friendly conversation.

Around 7:30 we settled back in our car seats for whatever nap we could get. I woke up around 9 and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I started preparing for the night hike, rearranging gear and packs and water and so on. After 10pm or so, our friends rolled in in a disorderly caravan of vehicles–many more people than we had expected given the poor reception our invitation e-mail had received! All in all there were about 15 people ready to tackle the dark, bear-infested heights.

With so many people it took a while to get headlamps and packs in order, but we were starting up the John Muir trail not too long after 11–just 18 hours after Dan and I had started our Snake Dike adventure. I had been feeling pretty exhausted, my legs were virtually destroyed, and I was worried that 16 more miles of hiking would be out of my reach. But everyone else’s excitement, the bright moon (we had planned it for a full moon), the crisp air, and the steady pace lifted my spirits and I felt ready to push again.

A night hike of Half-Dome takes a fair bit longer than the same hike in the day, because much more care is required in order not to trip over hidden roots and stones, go off the edge into a waterfall, or slip on slick rocks. There were also a number of points where the trail itself is easy to lose, and Dan’s and my short term memory from earlier in the day proved valuable.

The group, which consisted of people at all levels of outdoors experience, went surprisingly quickly. We trekked through all the kinds of terrain there is on the beautiful hike up, and eventually made it past the “treeline” to the beautiful moon-reflecting granite near the summit. The panorama for the last hour of the hike is truly amazing in the moonlight, with all of Yosemite Valley clear, but ethereal and ghostly and quiet. And then we were at the Cables–the last, very steep push up to the top of the dome, assisted by heavy cables you use to pull yourself up.

We arrived around 4am, making for just under a 5-hour hike–not bad, especially for such a large group! I immediately began to fire up my stove and make some hot chocolate, because the sudden ceasing of movement gave me a deep chill. I had foolishly packed most of my technical hiking clothing away for moving to Florida, and was wearing layers of cotton, which, when soaked through with sweat, practically turned into ice in the 40-degree air and swift winds.


The small size of the picture doesn’t show it well, but this is a pretty sweet long-exposure shot of the stars above the sierras

From there I degenerated physically pretty quickly, since I had spent all of my energy stores, and was now freezing cold. So I huddled rather miserably under a rock and awaited the sunrise. It came pretty soon, as you’d expect at high altitude, and flooded the Valley with amazing brilliance and beauty. It’s really impossible to describe how the light goes from non-existent, to gentle, to jewel-like, to fiery, to terrible and blazing, on the slopes of the Sierras.

Our group played around on top for a while, exploring the large surface of the summit and making oatmeal on our stoves. Much of the wonder was lost on me, unfortunately–not because I’d been to the top twice before, but because I had begun to feel very ill, and had no idea what was wrong with me. I figured it would pass, and so I pretended like everything was OK until we started the descent later on in the morning. I was helping some of my friends down the cables when I realized why I was feeling ill. Without further ado I let go of the cables and practically ran down, then up the next hill until I could find a suitably private spot. Then, with the help of some friendly bushes and an uncomfortably rough rock, my body was freed of the burden it had been carried, and which had made me ill! Of course, no one else in the group needed to know about this little scouting trip.


The cables head on look very steep–it’s a fantastic optical illusion! (Credit: Dana Hornbeak)

That done, I was relieved that I wasn’t in any serious physical trouble, and was confident that I could make it down to the cars without any problems. Indeed, a number of us felt that it was better to jog down than to hike, to make use of gravity and allow our legs some more free movement. So the whole of us hiked and trotted down, not in any hurry, the 8 miles which had become so familiar to me over the past 30 hours.


The bulk of our group taking a break on the way down (Credit: Melanie Chuen)

One of the benefits of the night hike is that you meet very few other hikers on the trail, and you feel as if you have Half-Dome to yourself. On the way down, however, we met scores and scores of early-morning hikers getting a good start up Half-Dome, and it became very tedious and crowded. So for the last 2 miles or so, on the relatively easy downhill, I let loose and ran (along with a couple of other guys) for the finish, playing games like “dodge the hiker”.

And then, it was over! We had made it to the base and walked the mile back to the cars. I was more exhausted than I’d ever been, but also exhilirated that Dan and I had pulled off an amazing expedition for ourselves, and one that all our friends had enjoyed too. The pain and soreness in my legs over the next week made me feel a little foolish for running the last bit, but I had final papers to contend with, so there wasn’t much room for regret.

The downside of coming back from that wonderful extended church service in Yosemite was that the coming back was to academic hell. Of course, I’d left plenty of work until the last few days, and so I scrambled to slap together some excellent work. Excellent work isn’t usually slapped together, but I thought it ought to be possible, so why the hell not? As it turns out, the work wasn’t quite as excellent as I’d hoped, but it was a good deal better than I’d thought it actually would be, and apparently my professors did too.

So on Wednesday, June 9, I walked out of Bldg 100 in the Stanford Quad, and had completely satisfied all my academic requirements for what is very probably ever. The next day, my grades were in and I had satisfied all the unit requirements for the BA and the MA in Philosophy–with 0 extra units. I do like to cut it close. As exhilirating as the Half-Dome hike was, I don’t think that I’ve ever felt quite as much relief as on the day. Well, it spanned a couple days–all the way through the night of graduation.

Graduation weekend was spent packing and figuring out how on earth I would get all my stuff back to Florida. There were also parties to attend and lots of people to say goodbye to. Graduation itself was Sunday morning, and was unbearably hot under the California sun. But I didn’t care. I had my cool MA hood on and I allowed myself a little pride, just for effect, but mostly all I felt was relief. I received my two diplomas from our department head in the private department ceremony in the Philosophy department arcade.

Then I loaded up my car, slapped my bike and snowboard on top, and drove to San Francisco for a family graduation dinner and party, with grandparents and aunts and uncles and everybody. It was simply amazing, and still all I could feel was relief. So I drank a good amount of vodka in praise to God and fell blissfully asleep.

Thus ended the longest and most significant chapter of my life (to date, anyway).