#cloud's rest

[connor-burrows]

An Evening at Olmstead Point - Part 3 by douglasscrima

[miyatsudome-blog]

"Finally, someone with a real pack on," exclaimed the man ambling towards me, his weathered clothes, hat and hiking backpack the color of sand, conjuring images of a dusty Sahara. I smiled, appreciating the newfound camaraderie between myself and others with sun burnt noses, heavy backpacks containing bear canisters and sleeping bags, iodine tablets and intricate trail maps. This becomes especially so in the tourist-flooded areas, where neon Nikes and light Camelbaks are the chosen accessories, and where a hike up a paved road to the trailhead has most gasping for breath, looking disgruntled. A slight nod of the head of another backpacker over the crowd acknowledges purpose, journey. You've either been somewhere or are going somewhere.

Happy Independence Day, America, from one of your most esteemed and treasured landscapes. I celebrated you today by traversing through what the scotsman who was more American than most, John Muir, aptly named The Range of Light. Up in the High Country and out of the Valley, where the cool breeze of 9,000 ft of elevation will do just as well as cracking open a can of The Great American Lager.

Today also marked my first foray into solo backpacking. I didn't think much of it. Acted on recommendation: "Cloud's Rest, sleep under the stars, hike back down to the valley, about 20 miles" check. And went. The process is quite simple. Just go. Just walk. Just sleep. Just do it. And do it alone. 

Cloud's Rest. Never have I ascended rocks so piercing a white, soft around the edges and piled upon each other like ocean-smoothed stones, natural cairns, leading you to the top. Climb them like a staircase as the valley opens up on all sides in a splendid and dazzlingly soft shade of blue - Half Dome in the distance, mountains for miles. A place where you wouldn't be surprised if you suddenly became weightless, drifting up and out on the eddies of a breeze into the staggering purity of those whites and blues. It's during moments like these that the present feels ungraspable, fleeting, as you try and absorb as much of you can of the panoramic vista surrounding you. But it's moments such as later, when darkness descends and you are alone, and every rustle is an unknown creature at your head or feet and the slightest sound of moving gravel is a bear coming to sift and sniff and grunt through your things, and every time you peek out at the stars from the shelter of your thin and exposed sleeping bag you expect to see the silhouette of a mountain lion against the night sky, its bright eyes peering down at you with sinister curiosity, it's moments such as these that seem to last an eternity. A sad irony of life, isn't it? Pleasure is fleeting, while fear stretches on. But dawn always breaks, and its palliative pastels always illuminate the now-innocuous shapes and shadows around you, and you laugh in spite of yourself, ready to walk again.

[niceyouthculture]

24 hours in yosemite

i took friday off work the other week and drove out to yosemite to meet my brother. he's hiking the pacific crest trail—from mexico to canada—and he took the weekend off from that.

we hiked from tenaya lake through cloud's rest, up half dome and back in 24 hours (about 30 miles and 10,000 feet of elevation change). it was physically and mentally exhausting and a perfect reminder of exactly why yosemite is one my favorite places in the world. i watched the sun set behind a mountain of granite from the top of cloud's rest, dangling my legs over the edge. we drank scotch out of a water bottle and ate twinkies and instant oatmeal cut with beef jerky. we were the only people on top of half dome for a full ten minutes. i got mosquito bites all over my body and my knees almost gave out on the way back. we may or may not have had the necessary permits for any of this. i drove back to oakland the next day with a broken radio and no sunglasses and i haven't been that happy in a while.

we threw off the packs and sprinted up the last 100 feet to cloud's rest.

cloud's rest

the yosemite valley at dusk

making dinner, and then making sure all the damn food is in the bear-proof container.

setting up camp way off-trail

raider nation

i didn't realize that i was at the end of the roll (without another) until i took this stupid shot on top of half dome...

[creepsandfreaks-blog]

Yosemite, CA - Clouds rest. 14.5 mile hike.

I haven't made a video in almost a year, I think it's time to get back in it.

[creminheavyamericas]

Half Dome and the Yosemite Valley. Yosemite, USA.

[hbrunnergirl]

Ridge of Death

We are talking about making our annual pilgrimage to Mammoth and Yosemite this summer, so I started looking at some hikes...the hike I want to do is about 15 miles round trip and we would be rewarded with spectacular views of the valley with few crowds. BUT. And this is a very big but...you have to traverse some sort of ridge to get to the summit. Most people say it isn't too bad, but this ridge is flanked on both sides by the steepest, highest cliffs you've ever seen in your life. I'm imagining myself clinging to the sides of this ridge, crying, and screaming at my husband who will no doubt leap from rock to rock like a freaking mountain goat.

So I go on youtube...and people have posted videos of themselves doing it. Some videos look totally fine and doable, others look crazy. There are also videos with little kids and old people making the crossing.

I now have my heart set on this view...but my fears are starting to get the better of me and I'm over-analyzing.

Did I mention I'm afraid of heights and this ridge is almost 10,000 feet in elevation?