HIRICE ...

That's hydrate, ibuprofen, rest, ice, compression, elevation ... I've decided maybe I should follow my own advice. In all this somewhere there might be an admission that I am actually injured.

Half Dome Full Moon Hike, Version 1

People climbing up the cables to the Half Dome summit.

My friends near the top.

Me at the top of the "Sub-Dome."

View of the cables and Half Dome Summit from the sub-dome.

The short version. My three friends and I went to summit on Half Dome in Yosemite on 7/8. We left San Mateo Tuesday night at 8 and arrived at the trailhead at 1:30 AM. We hiked the Mist Trail in the moonlight to arrive in Little Yosemite Valley at dawn. We only stopped to puke once. We proceeded up the trail. 2 of my friends reached the summit at some time around 11:00 AM, while my other friend and I aborted to wait at the base of the final climb. I sprinted up some one hour later reaching them just below the cables to let them know it was time to go.

We hiked out to have some really crappy food at the Curry taco stand, and managed to drive home without falling asleep or puking.

Half Dome 2, Hikers 2. 16 miles, 4600 vertical feet, 4 great stories.

My foot hurts.

Down the River ...

Yep, so I'm reading Down the River, by Edward Abbey. I'm inspired to call myself a "Wilderness Philosopher," as he did, and see if I can get some gigs in the wild that way. I suppose I'll need to write a few books to help legitimize my claim. At least one of my friends has started to refer to me as a "Wilderness Philosopher," which of course ... seems a bit of a stretch to me. In the book, Abbey takes a sportyak (I am thinking hairy four-legged mammal with a number on its and a saddle ala Dr. Suess and wonder what exactly is a sportyak) down the San Juan inspiring me to remember that I have a kayak ... and that one of my friends in intensely interested in kayaking, wants me to go kayaking with him. I relent and agree to teach him the basics.

And then the kayak mag comes in the mail ... reading ... glancing through it ... and I read the Dirtbag Diaries page on Mongolia. Serena Hollmeyer says, "We bought some bacon one day, and a Mongolian proudly served it to us raw. To wash it down he gave us Airag, a mildly alcoholic, fermented mare's milk that tasted like a cross between gasoline and urine." Is this a fate that awaits us if I teach him to kayak?

You know how it goes ... one day it's the basics ... then a paddle outing ... then an expedition, then suddenly, its kayaking in a lawless wilderness in Africa or Mongolia. His language skills are good, and he's brave, albeit young, so no doubt there's hope for him. As for me ... I doubt I'll be as successful as either my young friend or Abbey.

Nevertheless, I rolled my kayak out of the mothballs, the first steps in a plan to teach my young friend to self-rescue, paddle generally, and do an eskimo roll. It's inevitable that there will be some trip, with a bunch of people, a few dozen water fights, some hiking, somewhere in the near future.

East of Phoenix

"See you on the other side," I say.

"The other side of what," is the usual response.

The void, the abyss, that place where everything is meaningful, where it's all meaningless; the wilderness.

I know, I know. Isn't that being just a bit melodramatic. Of course, but just a bit. I am in a campground in East Mesa, gwarfing a soda and typing this dribble into my Blackberry. There's a starbucks just a few blocks away. Showers and flush toikets. Not much like the wilderness. Nevertheless, entering a place like the Sonoran desert is a bit risky. Even as an idle camper, a fall can be catastrophic. Disorientation can lead to disaster. Bad planning can be fatal.

Traveling in the wilderness offers certain hazards. In the Sonoran desert the hazards are severe. In the Superstition wilderness they are at thier most extreme. There are no berries to pick, no rivers to bathe in, water is rare, hard to find and unreliable. The landscape is course and steep, the trails confusing and rarely travelled.

When I enter the Superstitions I do it with the grave seriousness and respect they deserve. At every opportunity this wilderness picks and tears at the human body, scratching, cutting, burning ... It's hardball.

To be in a place of such glorious beauty, such austerity, difficulty ... well it's sublime; profoundly good. To be back on this side, reasonably intact, is also good. To see an end to the thorns, the 105 degree temps, the humidity. To rest, to prepare to do it again, to have bragging rights or a good story to tell, is all good stuff.

I spent two days in the Superstition wilderness last weekend. The Happy Hiking Guy and I hiked from the Peralta trailhead to Le Barge Spring in a big ugly loop. It was largely uneventful, just two guys in the desert sun, a shitload of wilderness, and 16 miles of pain.

Bridge Ride

Stuff to Bring ... for a Moonlight Hike ... draft

CLOTHES

___ 1 pair extra socks smartwool hiking
___ SmartWool Microweight Long-Sleeve Crew 6.3 oz.
___ Hat 1.90 oz.
___ Ultralight Rain Parka

SHELTER & SLEEPING SYSTEM

None

PACKING

Daypack

COOKING & WATER

___ Katadyn Hiker Microfilter with stuff sack 14.8 oz.
___ 1 Nalgene 1-liter water bottles 12.50 oz.
___ 1 Platypus 2-3 liter hydration bag/pouch.
___ coffee pot w/lid, cup, fork, and spoon 1 lb.
___ MSR Whisperlite Stove 15.4 oz.
___ matches 0.35 oz
___ cigarette lighter

NAVIGATION

___ Cheap compass 1 oz
___ map (1 @ .2 oz per map) 0.5 oz
___ Black Diamond led headlamp w/ 6 AAA batteries 4.2 oz.
___ (1)Streamlight Scorpion Stinger Flashlight 3.3 oz

ESSENTIALS & OTHER ITEMS

___ first aid kit 6.0
___ (*) duct tape ~
___ (*) plastic whistle ~
___ bug guard/sun block 3.00
___ Dermatone Lip Balm with Lanyard 0.35
___ toilet paper 1.50
___ bandana
___ Fuel for 1 coffee
___ Food for 1 days (23 oz per day)
___ Two pouches of tuna
___ 3 apples
___ 4 power bars
___ 1 dehydrated meal
___ 1 pouch of dry gatorade
___ 2 servings of triscuits
___ 2 goo packets with caffiene
___ 2L Water 4 lbs. 4 oz.
___ coffee and dry cream

CAMERA

___ Canon 20d with 17-85 lens 3 lbs. 4 oz.

WEAR

___ Pocket knife
___ North Face Polargaurd vest 1 lb.
___ Columbia Titanium Shirt
___ GPS with neck lanyard
___ REI Men's Sahara convertible pants 1 lb 3.4 oz
___ smartwool hiking socks & Wigwam Gobi liners 3.5 oz
___ Merrill GTX Overdrive trail running shoes.
___ Manfrotto 679B Monopod, to double as a hiking pole. 1 lb 4 oz.
___ Glasses/ Sunglasses 4 oz.

Moonlight Hike to Half Dome

It looks like we have plan ... Leave San Mateo at around 7 PM om July 7 and drive to Yosemite Valley. At midnight or so start the hike to Half Dome from the valley. Photos at dawn from the top of Half Dome ... Hike down, nap and drive home.

The Pursuit of Happiness ... Breaking News

I tried to watch it but couldn't ... the Pursuit of Happyness ... I was reading my email, and it appears the CNN "Breaking News" about the Lakers victory was scooped by about three minutes by the Dicks Sporting Goods advertisement. All this time I thought junk mail wasn't useful.

I went for a bike ride today. My first in awhile. I think it might be my first since the last training ride with the Mushroom Girl, who last week rode her bike to LA in the Aids Ride for Life. While helping her get ready, I abused my hammies, which still hurt. It's ok, really. I still manage to knock out twenty plus miles today, introducing Robert to the very edge of Kings Mountain Road, a nice ride that we'll need to train for a bit, or just start earlier. Robert is a boy scout ... so I'm sure he can handle it.

Anyway ... I heard an idea about a moonlight hike to Half Dome and floated the idea. It goes like this ... leave the SanFrancisconess™ at about 7:00 PM the night of the full moon. Drive to Yosemite Valley and park. Walk the Mist Trail to Half Dome starting at Happy Isles at around 12:oo Midnight. Watch the sunrise from Half Dome and then hike down to Little Yosemite Valley and take a nap ... Hike out to the valley and drive home. I call it the "Avoid the Lightning Plan™."

The next full moon is July 7.

... Woops!

Last week at the Kings Mountain Archery Range we shot this video (http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=30487538&op=1&view=all&subj=756015537&id=1148126542#/video/video.php?v=1122811627658&ref=mf) which was cool because it was taken with arrows flying toward the camera. Really fun. Video © 2009 Angel Viloria. All rights reserved.
SO we went back this week to see if we could improve on it.

Photo of me at the Kings Mountain Range.

"Shoot this one a little higher," says Angel. "Are you sure," I ask. "Yep." "Ok." ...

Two shots progressively higher (one is hidden) and the third ...

The really disappointing bit was that the flight of the arrow that crushed the lens wasn't recorded by the device, so it died in vain. Well, there's not much else to say. The End.

Hazelnut Hailstones

Last weekend I was in Yosemite. There was all this conversation about what to call my blog post ... "You Talk Too Much ..." was one candidate "That's Gonna Leave a Mark" was another. In all fairness to the events, two things happened that will make this weekend unforgettable. There was a serious thunderstorm on my 15 mile hike Monday, and a 31 year old woman disappeared from the trail we were on about the time we were there. These events have left marks, both literally and figuratively.

About 3:30 P.M. on Monday (May 18, 2009), a 31 year old woman named Katrin Lehmann disappeared near the Vernal Falls foot bridge, presumably having gone into the Merced River. How this might have happened remains a mystery, but there's not much doubt that falling into the Merced River on Monday would result in certain disaster. The earnest start of the thunderstorm was at just about that time, and it may have contributed to the disaster by making everything wet and slippery, and radically altering the visibility by reducing the light, and by repeated flashes of lightning. As if that wasn't already enough, the storm threw down hazelnut sized hailstones, encouraging panic, and causing everyone to run for cover.
Here's the flyer that I saw in the deli on Tuesday.

On Monday, two friends and I started early, eating at the Lodge, and were on the trail to Half Dome™ by 8:30. It's a signifigant hike from the valley to Half Dome and back in a single day, so I immediately encouraged my friends to set their sights for the top of Nevada fallas and then we could have a snack and see how things were, then decide to push on. It started as a really nice day and hot, so we packed light, and travelled quickly up the trail. The misty part of the Mist Trail™ below Vernal Falls was cold but mostly refreshing, and we all changed to a dry shirt after the drenching. My friends and I easily covered the 3.2 miles up to top of Nevada Falls and pushed on to Little Yosemite Valley where we heard the first thunder of the day.

I immediately annouced that that most likely meant we would not be able summit Half Dome, due to the obvious risk of death by lightning. We decided to push on, because we felt good and thought if we could just get to where we could see it -- we could take a picture and earn some bragging rights that way. We climbed the additional miles up the trail, with an objective like -- we turn back at 2:30.

It had clouded over and our hopes for a glorious photo were pretty much crushed. It sprinkled and there was thunder and well ... I had oddly left my rain jacket behind. It was wearing us a bit ... the mountain ... it was kinda steep and we were pushing hard to get to the tree line, which we (I -- to be fair) estimated at 8 miles and 4200 vertical feet from the valley floor. At around 2:00 we were nearing the end of the trees and taking a short break to discuss our remaining time, when it started to actually rain a bit. I tendered that it was looking like a good time to turn back ... since we were near the snow at about 8000 feet elevation in the Sierras in May without a raincoat, or even a jacket, and it was afternoon ... and ... well ... raining.

The trip downhill went quickly. Andrew, our young friend, surged ahead to start for home early, with instructions to leave a message on my cell when he had made it down. At 23, Andrew was a strong capable hiker, and easily left us behind. At about 3 miles from the valley floor, it started to rain in earnest. The trail is steep and it's mostly granite. At this point it's wet granite. It began to hail. Hard. Pea sized hail stones pelted us on the open sections of trail. Pea sized hail doesn't hurt, really. As the storm increased in intensity, hikers on the trail began to gather into groups and move really quickly. I really think that survival instincts began to kick in. We were in a canyon yes, but there were many exposed granite stretches, and it grew ominously dark, and there was frequent lightning. It was around the time that we had gathered into a group of 10 or 12 and began to realize that there was no hope of remaining dry in any way, that the sky opened up and cast hazelnut sized hailstones mixed with interval lightning. It hurt and someone started screaming. The lowering of the light level combined with the wet trail and the confusion induced by both the lightning flashes and the screaming: suddenly the trail itself became hard to identify.

A stranger in the group named Dennis and I stood and clearly looked at the trail signs and found the trail and took it and the group of 8 or 10 tweenagers followed us and raced past us. We had turned onto the pack trail, leaving the Mist Trail and heading uphill in the canyon. My friend Robert was a bit behind so I waited and let Dennis lead ... I was beginning to realize that things were going sideways and I was slipping in to trip leader mode ... I was counting people ... taking notes in my head ... keeping track of the group around me.
Well ... when you're following a river downhill and suddenly you are climbing uphill away from the river ... it doesn't take too long before you realize you going the wrong way. I said to Robert, "This is wrong, we are on the wrong trail ... I know this goes to the valley ... but in this mess, I want to go on a trail I know." I ran ahead to tell Dennis what I thought. Those people ran past in the other direction ... "Wrong way." We all turned around. It became harder as we retraced our steps. I could see my friend lose momentum. For just a moment I worried about him.

Anyway ... once we knew we were on the right trail again, we just hammered it out ... Wet, rainy, treacherous down climb on granite steps, 300 feetabove a vertical drop into a raging torrent of a a river, or just a few feet. One false step equals could equal instant death. One foot in front of another. A few more miles ... miles of wild Yosemite, a stormy vindictive Yosemite.

As we reached the valley floor there were folks lining the river, rescue teams, rangers and firemen. The bridges were covered, the shuttle buses delayed ... wow, what if it's Andrew. Rumours floated about ... "It's a nine old girl," said one. "She fell off the bridge above the falls," said another. "I know someone that saw the body," said another.

Sometimes, mistakes are fatal, accidents are fatal. Andrew made it down. He was wet, but changed into his pajamas in his car. We all went over to have chili at the Ahwahnee lounge.
We went to see the Gods of the mountain and they were kind to us. We lived. We can hike another day. We escaped lightning, hail, a raging river, a slippery trail over tons of granite, and our own weaknesses. Katrin Lehmann wasn't so lucky.

If you're going to go, drowning in the Merced River, just moments after a view of Vernal Falls, isn't that bad of a way to go.

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A Pleasant Day in the Hood

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Point Reyes Hike Saturday

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6:30 PM ...