Last December in my “Getting Out” column in the sports section, I challenged my readers: On July 13, come with me on a long and difficult hike to the top of 9,931-foot Clouds Rest, a massive peak that rises 1,100 feet above Half Dome – Yosemite Valley’s iconic landmark. During the intervening six months, we will take a series of hikes to prepare for the big day. Who among you has the stuff to take on the Clouds Rest Challenge?
When I first laid down the challenge, I didn’t candy coat it. The hike to Clouds Rest is 13.2 miles with an overall elevation gain/loss of 2,450 feet – some of it steep, and all of it over rugged terrain. The oxygen-stingy air at high altitude would multiply the effort. At that elevation, every breath would have 1/3-less oxygen than a breath taken at sea level. I estimated the hike would take seven to eight hours. Even for a seasoned hiker, the walk to Clouds Rest would be a long and difficult day.
In exchange for this effort, I promised a special treat at the top. All mountain peaks have a great view, but Clouds Rest is poised atop granite walls that drop so steeply and dramatically away, it leaves you feeling like a bird in flight. Yosemite Valley is one step and 6,000-feet below. Beyond the 1,700-foot sheer drop on the other side is a sweeping panorama of 13,000-foot peaks in the Yosemite high country.
How many people would set aside a weekend, drive five hours up and back and arrange accommodations to take on this long and grueling hike? How many people would see the challenge through?
The first hint the Clouds Rest Challenge had struck a chord was last New Year’s morning – the date of the first of our six prep hikes. For several years, I have invited interested readers to kick off the New Year with a hike on one of our nearby trails. The invitation usually draws about 20 people, but on this morning, the parking lot filled to overflowing, and I went home with names and email addresses of more than 100 people.
Throughout winter and spring, we tromped through South County hills five more times, building strength, confidence and new friendships. Enthusiasm grew and grew as summer approached. In the parking lot before each prep hike, people would call out, “We made reservations in Lee Vining” or “We have a campsite at Tuolumne Meadows.” Nearly everyone wisely planned to come a day or two early in order to spend time at altitude and acclimate to the thin air.
My wife, Renée, and I arrived in Lee Vining Thursday evening prior to Saturday’s hike and hooked up with friends at the Whoa Nellie Deli for “World Famous” fish tacos. Some people tend to scoff at the caliber of cuisine at a gas station mini mart. Keep your Michelin stars, your snooty maître d’s and give me a gas station deli bustling with raunchy, sun-bronzed hikers in tattered shorts and T-shirts. The mango salsa at the Whoa Nellie Deli, a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and a view of Mono Lake beats all.
After a short hike Friday, I arrived Saturday morning at the Sunrise Trailhead near the outlet of Tenaya Lake well before our 9 a.m. meeting time. Right away, I saw waving hands behind windshield reflections as people rolled past looking for a parking spot. For weeks, I had been asked how many people were coming. I could only guess from the “We’ll see you up there” remarks I had heard. Forty or 50, I guessed? But when I thought about it, that number seemed ridiculous.
People arrived, chatted, asked last minute questions and set out on the trail. Before I left to join them, I looked down at the clipboard I had asked everyone to sign. Four pages; 70 names.
The trail to Clouds Rest began by traversing the foot of the slope for a level mile before climbing a series of switchbacks to a ridge top 1,000 feet above. On the far side, the trail dropped steeply into a beautiful basin full of creeks, flowers and a small subalpine lake. Finally, we began to gain back the elevation we had lost on our descent into the basin. Up, up, up through a thinning forest and a warm southern exposure. Finally, the trail gave way to a bare granite staircase and a daunting 1/4-mile rock scramble to the top.
Missing from all the information I sent to our group prior to the hike was a description of the final 200 feet just before the broad summit dome. Imagine walking along a typical city sidewalk. Now, add a 5,000-foot drop on your right and a 1,700-foot drop on your left. A city sidewalk becomes a tightrope, and any fear of heights slumbering inside you awakens with a blood-curdling scream. The view of Yosemite Valley (6,000 feet below) and Half Dome (1,100 feet below) was just as grand in front of this corridor as it was on the summit beyond. No one would blame a hiker for stopping there. But several people, petrified with fear, wouldn’t have it. With a helping hand, they pushed through their anxiety so they could stand on the summit. It was impressive to watch.
Clouds Rest challengers (now, conquerors) came in all shapes, sizes and ages. Two groups included family members across three generations. One woman was grateful to reach the summit with her father just before his 75th birthday. Another couple climbed in honor of their 65th birthdays.
The weather – everything about our day – was perfect. The summit was warm, still and buzzing with excited chatter. Everyone returned safe, sound, tired and proud. For some people who hiked to Clouds Rest that day, it was nothing more than a long walk to a lovely peak. But I believe many returned a little bit changed. From the conversations I’ve had and the emails I’ve received since returning, I know that for many people, the line marking “I can’t” has been pushed back a good deal.
Scores of challenges and adventures like Clouds Rest are out there waiting for us. All we must do is go. They are a great opportunity to face and break through boundaries that we have assumed are our limits without ever testing them. It is surprising what a mountain, a little nudge and a supportive group can do.
To the 70: Sharing this experience with all of you was wonderful fun, and a great gift. That you all came – it still amazes me. I will see you on the next challenge.
