The Milkman's Son
By Tracy C. Baker
A View of the Milky Way #119
Wants v. Needs
There is a fuzzy difference vis-à-vis wants and needs. I have experienced many needs throughout my life. When I was 6 years old I remember a distinct need, a true deep down need, for a wooden top as tops were making a comeback in popularity during that time.
After much cajoling and crying and "But, Mom, I neeeeeeed it!" s, I was awarded with said top - probably more to shut me up than a recognition of my need. Never the less, I was a happy camper until the next best thing came down the line and my needs shifted accordingly. I needed a GI Joe, a certain pair of shoes, a car, my own apartment, a wife, a home, a new car ("But, Honey, I neeeeeeed it!") etc etc.
Wants, on the other hand, are, in my opinion, constantly flitting in and out ones life. I want another scoop of ice cream, but Mom will only let me have one. I want a new computer, but Winnie won't let me have one. I want to take another trip to Europe, but my wallet won't let me have one.
Here, though, is why I feel the difference between wants and needs is fuzzy; wants can easily become needs given time and circumstance.
I have wanted to hike to the top of Half Dome in Yosemite National Park for many, many years. It began as a love of Yosemite National Park. Both Winnie and I have gone to Yosemite at least annually since our first trip through the park together in 1980. We have hiked much of the Valley, up the Mist trail to the top of Vernal Falls, down the Panoramic trail to Illiloute Falls, and to Sentinel dome and Taft Point. We have hiked in the Tuolumne and over by Wawona.
As those years passed, the want to hike Half Dome slowly became a need and a couple years ago I promised myself I would hike to Half Dome by my 50th birthday. Knowing Winnie would not allow me to do this hike alone and that she would never want to join me on such a long, arduous journey, I recruited three friends to join me; John Marchand, (who had done the hike ten years earlier) Jim Mannix and Luiz Sequeira. All hardy soles who I know could have carried my ragged body out of the wilderness should I have taken an unplanned trip over the edge.
As the original date of May 30th neared, Jim racked up his knee on a preparatory hike...one down, three to go. Luiz then called and said he couldn't make it as he had a schedule problem. Yet, John was still game, so we were good to go...until I received a call from the Wilderness center informing me that the late season snows were still deep in the backcountry and both our camp and the cables that are crucial to getting to the top of Half Dome would not be ready before our hike date. I reluctantly agreed to move the date to September 5th, giving up my dream of making it before my 50th.
Be Careful What You Wish For
Luiz rejoined John and I for our rescheduled trip (Jim opted to keep his knee intact) When we finally arrived in the Valley after a little unplanned side-trip (What happened to Merced?), we secured our luxurious (relative to sleeping in a tent on the ground) lodgings at Camp Curry in a four-bed tent cabin, grabbed some lunch, then set off to explore a bit of the Valley before heading to Glacier Point to scope the next day's journey.
The skies were an azure blue without a cloud or haze to obscure it as the sun began to set. We could look out toward Vernal and Nevada falls and see both were still quite full for so late in the season. We could see Liberty Cap, Half Dome and Cloud's Rest, looking so close and clear you felt you could reach out and touch them.
As the sun disappeared over the horizon, Half Dome took on a golden hue, then red, then a deep purple and I couldn't help think back to those early explorers and how awe struck they must have been...I know I was. Then reality hit like a wet mop upside my head. I peered out towards our goal and it suddenly hit me...this hike is all up!
Ooooh, what hath I wrought...
8.2 Miles, 4,700 Foot Elevation Gain, One Continuous Beautiful View
We awoke to a perfect late summer day and had a hardy breakfast, pushing off about 9:00 am for the Happy Isles trailhead. As we crossed the fen at Happy Isles, John shushed Luiz and I as he had spotted a bobcat. The cat moved down to the riverbank and showed off its distinct markings in the dappled morning sun. What a treat it was to see an animal I had read about for years, but had never seen other than in zoos, books or TV.
The trailhead sign with its mileage listings for various points loomed large and we stopped to contemplate our fate, and then on toward our first point, the Merced River Bridge with its wonderful view of Vernal Falls. After the obligatory pictures (I must have hundreds from this spot), we hit the Mist Trail to the top of Vernal Falls. If you have never been on this trail, it is called "Mist" for good reason. During the spring runoff, you will become soaked by the spray that flies off the roaring falls, then be presented with the daunting task of climbing a wet and slippery granite staircase to the top.
Luckily we were hiking in the later part of the year and the falls were much more tame with only the occasional (and welcome) spritz to cool our overheated bodies. On top of the falls we dumped our packs and took a much needed break...okay, I needed the break. 1.5 miles and I was already feeling spent.
"Suck it up, Tracy!" I said to myself, "Only 3 miles to go!"
John told us of an idiot who earlier in the year decided that fence at the top of Vernal Falls that separated the dry granite from the rushing Merced meant that getting into a swift-running river at the top of a roaring falls was not only okay, but was a necessity for every visitor with no brains. He climbed the fence, lost his balance, regained, then lost it again and went over the falls to his death. Perhaps he could not read the signs posted everywhere that read "WARNING: DO NOT SWIM OR WADE IN THE RIVER. YOU WILL DIE!" with the graphic of the distressed man going over the falls. I've have always marveled at the mind of people who see such signs and just assume that it does not apply to them.
Anyway, I somehow found the strength to don my pack and go on and before we knew it we were at the bottom of Nevada Falls facing another set of granite stairs to the top. Having tackled that we stopped and snacked on some gorp (thanks Steve and Sue!) while we contemplated yet another mileage marker showing we had only one mile to go before reaching Little Yosemite, our campground for the night. Yet that was not what was the most exciting part of it. What was most exciting was that it was FLAT! An entire mile of flat trail...praise the Lord and pass the beef jerky.
We reached camp about 2:30 pm having hiked a total of 4.3 miles in 5 ½ hours! (Okay, not so impressive, but not bad for me!) We took a break to set up our tent and roll out our sleeping bags. We dumped our heavy packs, storing them in the bear proof lockers provided by the park service and took advantage of the composting toilets with fans powered by solar panels on the roof, a welcome change to the old holes in the ground that stank to high heaven as the weather warmed. Pack mules are used to take the resulting compost back down to the valley where it is used around the grounds as fertilizer. Very eco-friendly.
Change in Plans
The original plan was to stay overnight in Little Yosemite, rest our weary old bones and make the final push for Half Dome in the morning. That was the original plan. The park service had other plans and had closed the Half Dome trail from 7:00 am to 4:00 pm while they performed maintenance work on the granite steps that comprise the first climb up the back of this granite slab.
We did not come all this way to just give up. Even though it was another 2 ½ to 3 hours to the top, we had to try.
We pushed off to the switchbacks that lead ever upward toward the granite steps. The view across the back of Half Dome was in a fading light and we were now fighting time and twilight to make the top. We started up the granite stairs, but about two-thirds of the way up, it became apparent we would not make it before nightfall...and the realization of trying to come down the cables and the granite steps in the dark, where one wrong step could mean a very quick trip down the mountain, sank in with a thud.
We had to give it up.
By the time we made it back to camp, it was pitch dark and the stars shone in the millions in the moonless sky. John said you could see the Milky Way on a night like that and it was true. Not only the Milky Way, but also the entire Universe seemed to be at our fingertips.
We fired up a candle lantern and John went for water for our backpacker meals. I popped the bottle of champagne I was hoping we would enjoy on top of Half Dome, and Luiz and I got a head start on John.
Now I'm not sure if it was hiking hunger or the champagne, or maybe the meals just are, but that freeze-dried food tasted pretty damned good! I had chicken teriyaki and I was quite impressed and satiated, ready for a good nights sleep.
Special Note:
Everywhere you go in Yosemite you are warned of the bears. Take all food or scented things out of your car; store everything in bear-proof canisters or containers etc. A car door with its window pulled down along the roadside is proof of the power of a bear on the scent of food. When we arrived in camp at Little Yosemite, a Ranger met us and warned us that the bears were active and to watch out.
Now, all this was fine and dandy. We took the warnings seriously and set up our tent away from the food and stored everything in the bear locker nearby. Yet, one thing had me a little worried. What if I woke up in the night and needed to...well...spend a penny, so to speak? I certainly wasn't walking all the way to the loo and I didn't want to be too up close and personal with nature. I also didn't think it kosher to be widdling into a cup in a three-man tent that had hardly any room to kneel, let alone stand. So, when the inevitable did happen, I made a mad dash for a nearby tree and just hoped I didn't run into any wildlife with my pants down. Mother Nature was kind and I returned to the tent without incident, but I will tell you, the thought of having a bear encounter during that trip made one wish for a much stronger bladder.
What Goes Up...
Must come down...that is, unless you are a Bush Administration scientist. In that case, it is just a theory and we may have to rethink that one.
After a hearty breakfast of granola and blueberries, we packed up the tent and our gear, picked up all our garbage (pack it in, pack it out), and after a stop at the riverside to fill our water bottles (thanks to John and his handy dandy sweet water filter), we headed off back down the trail we had labored so hard to climb. We opted for the John Muir Trail back down for a change in scenery and to spare our sore calves and knees the jarring trek back down all those granite stairs at the waterfalls.
Regardless, it was still a beautiful trip. You cannot go wrong in Yosemite and this trail didn't disappoint with its sweeping views of Liberty Cap, Half Dome and Cloud's Rest, as well as Glacier Point and the Panorama Trail to Illiloute Falls. On the way down, John, the Marlin Perkins of our trip, once again spotted a bobcat and we watched as it leapt across the trail and took off through the brush, with the ground squirrels chirping out their warning all around.
We made that last mile on shear will power...well, that and the fact that we were all thinking about the big burgers, pitcher of Pepsi and beers we would be enjoying at Camp Curry as soon as we made it down! Hurry up, will ya?!?
The crowds of tourist were coming up the Mist Trail as we headed down, with it came some amazing sights such as the entire family hauling up a large cooler and others with no water at all. You could tell the ones who would never make it past the bridge from the ones determined to go ever upward.
I thought of my next attempt...I will do it again...and regardless of whether I finally make it to the top or not, I know I will be in for one of the most awe-inspiring hikes in the world.
Fini
Tracy
Copyright The Milkman's Son Tracy C. Baker 2005
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