The Beast Called Half Dome

Woke up early in the morning and started to prep for the Half Dome hike (17 miles, 4800 foot gain, extremely strenuous) ... water, snacks, trashbag for "mist" protection, etc. Dan still hadn't arrived, but it seemed that MdB was content to stay and lounge at the camp until he arrived, so the rest of us were soon set to go. A few minutes before leaving, I noticed my pump was low on insulin, so I quickly refilled.

I drove into the valley, all of us singing along to White Boy's 70's mixed tape (the one he made for FGITW's birthday a few years ago). Years ago I shuddered at anything even slightly affiliated with the 70's, and now I've discovered an affinity for corduroy, bellbottoms and tunes of the decade.

We started around 0900. The first part of the trail was very difficult for me, even though it was initially the same trail we had done yesterday. I told SaB and JuB to go on ahead ... twice. They were initially reluctant to part ways, but I was rather convincing. The thing is, I know I'm a slow hiker. I like to stop and rest, and I hate feeling pressured to keep up with fast hikers. I told them that I would continue on the trail until I reached the top, or met them on their way down. And really, the trail was sufficiently populated that I wasn't afraid of any untoward events. About 15 minutes after they went on ahead, I discovered the reason why I was so lackluster ... Hadn't turned my pump back into delivery mode. So silly ... I haven't done that ever that I can recall. So, switched it back, took a bolus, and rested for a few minutes before plunging on with a better sense of self.

The most difficult part of the hike up was the first set of switchbacks. Really, I didn't know if I would make it ... but the lovely thing about switchbacks (to take a Pollyanna approach) is that at every turn there was always a friendly and approachable boulder to rest on. At one point I stepped aside to let a mule train pass with a rueful smile; partly because I wished I was on one, and partly because I had to step carefully to avoid the rude offerings for most of the way out to the Nevada Falls!

People along the trail were very nice. Hi there, Morning, How's it going, etc. One girl who I jockeyed positions with asked me, "How far are you going?" I replied, "As far as I can get! You?" With a grin, she said, "Me too."

All at once, the trail leveled out. I could see a fantastic view of the Nevada Falls, and Half Dome in the distance. My first thought was ... "How beautiful!" The second was, "I'm supposed to get all the way over there? You've got to be kidding!" Passed by the weeping wall ... multiple tiny streams of water bouncing down the stone wall, creating a refreshing light shower for all hikers. The rest of the way to the Nevada Falls were uneventful.

Stopped for about 5 minutes at the top of the falls at 1130. They weren't fenced off like the Vernal Falls ... I guess anyone who makes it up this high is savvy enough to stay away from the danger zones. Passed the surprisingly un-odiferous outhouses, and continued on. Passed level, sandy paths that annoying stretched out a ways, and even descended for a bit! Passed the backpackers' camp and the ranger station.

Came to the second set of switchbacks and thought I was going to collapse! They were so steep, it was all my mind could do to flog the body onward. I ran out of water about half-way up (there really is no rhyme or reason for this half-way assessment, but it just sounds good). Got so thirsty that I actually drank some water from an obliging stone stream ... didn't even care if giarrdia (sp?) (not gonnorhea, as FGITW would have said) was in the cards. Even ate the apple I was saving for the top. Continued on, even though it started to lightly shower, and I heard thunder a couple times. I just felt that I had to keep on climbing (no matter how slow) until either 4pm or until I reached the cables.

During one of my myriad rests, a friendly hiker on her way down noticed my knee brace. She suggested that I might try poles, even one of which will apparently take up to 12% of one's body weight. I concurred that I would probably have to look into it, and soon after fond a branch that was vastly helpful ... either in reality, or in a Dumbo's feather way, I didn't care.

About 3:30, I met up with SaB and JuB on their way down. SaB had gotten to the meadow, and JuB had gone up the stairs. They offered to wait for me, and I happily left my day pack with them. Met my jockeying partner (yes, she did eventually pull ahead) on her way down ... said she had gone to the top of the stone hill, and encourage me onward. I made it to the top of the rock hill before the meadow. When I saw how far down the meadow was, I looked at my watch ... 1550. Decided I'd come far enough, especially if I wasn't going to try the cables due to the weather, took some pictures, and turned around. So, I didn't actually reach the top. This means that I'll have to do it again just so I can finish, but next time I'll have more water, more training, more time, and poles! However, it was the highest I'd ever gotten myself, and quite an accomplishment in and of itself.

Retraced my steps back to where SaB and JuB were waiting, and we made it back to the outhouses just above Nevada Falls. The facilities were a bit more pungently odiferous than earlier in the morning. We made our way a bit past it, and took a quick break. A really cute guy approached and said hi. Turns out that he's a fellow pumper. Brian, 30, from LA, diabetic since the age of 7. We chatted a bit about our endocrinologists (he recommended Anne Peters from USC) and meters, etc. His meter was tiny ... hooked onto the back of his pump. He recommended the Freestyle Flash meter by Abbott. Anyway, as we parted, he said, "It's always nice to meet a fellow pumper." I couldn't have agreed more. He ran by me later on in the afternoon. I didn't recognize him as he flashed by, but he called out my name and I quickly came to as I cheerfully shouted, "Showoff!" to his disappearing back.

As we descended the last set of switchbacks, I was once again amazed that I had even made it up as far as I did. And I was very grateful for my impromptu walking stick. I left it at the base of the trail ... an offering to anyone who would accept the help.

We made it down by 1945. The happiest moment was reaching the Happy Isles shuttlestop and sucking down water at the (potable) fountain! Nirvana! Almost as wonderful was taking showers in the valley. Water is such a wonderful thing! Mosquito bites were not a plentiful as I feared, but I'd gotten a fair sized one on my right inner calf, and behind my right ear. Drat!

Drove the long way back to the campground, made it by 2230. Dan had never arrived, MdB was asleep, and we were all too cold and tired to attempt any cooking. We contented ourselves with a handful of Frito's each, and turned in.