i'm alive

so, so, so alive...

i got back on sunday night from what can only be described as one of the most amazing (and grueling) physical, mental, and emotional experiences of my life. it was such an incredible adventure. it has been four days since i came down that mountain, but i still haven't come down off of the high. it has taken me this long to process it all, and i'm not entirely sure that i'm done. i am just now able to form words out of what feels like a million little sparks running through my mind and body. all of the wonderful memories of that journey are just now settling; yes just now settling down from sparks and turning into words...

as i have said before, yosemite has always been a very special place for me; a spiritual place. the magesty of those glacier cut granite walls puts everything in my life into perspective. when i am there, i realize how fleeting, how temporary, how small, this life is; these problems are. to stand there and behold all its beauty is overwhelming at times. standing in the valley and tilting my head all the way up until the back of my head touches the back of my neck, and still just barely being able to see the top of El Capitan or Half Dome. something so much greater than i, made all this.

in the fall of 2004, the year before sienna was born, Adam and I made this climb together. i remember it being challenging, mostly, but not moving in the way it was this time for me. now 4 years and 2 kids later, i found myself wanting (needing) to do it again. maybe to prove to myself that the strength i once had before having children still resides within me somewhere. maybe to prove to myself that that i am still powerful and capable of overcoming obstacles and facing fears that transcend those i encounter everyday as a mom and wife. beyond changing diapers and making bottles, figuring out dinner and staying patient during marathon teeth-brushing and face washing charades after a long day.

or maybe to just get out of my own head and allow nature to work its magic in the way that only it can. by showing me how simple and peaceful and beautiful life can be. by showing me that the most breathtaking and perfect creations are not material, not commercial, but natural. by reminding me how truly blessed i am to be alive in it.

if you haven't already, you may want to get comfortable. i have a lot to post. i took so many photos, and i'm going to post more here than even *i* usually do, just because it was all so beyond beautiful that i need to capture it before my memory starts to fade...

the drive
the drive to yosemite saturday afternoon was great. i picked up liz around 2:30 and we were off on our adventure. it took us just under 3 hours from sacramento and it was so nice to take our time and get down there at our leisure. the scenery is so beautiful, driving through stanislaus national forest and into Yosemite Valley. We took our time, enjoyed the view out the window and chatted about life and growth and love and dreams and happiness and ambition. a wonderful change from my regular life where any attempt to have conversations with my adult women friends is interrupted at regular intervals by my crazywonderful children.

our digs




we checked into camp just before dinner time and got settled. certainly not the most glamorous accommodations we've stayed in by any means, but Camp Curry will forever hold a special place in our hearts. the 'tent cabins' at camp curry adhere to the old nissan xterra adage: everything you need, nothing you don't. these canvas tents had all the essentials: hard wood floors, a few beds, blankets and pillows, a desk and mirror, a simple heater and oh, a bear-proof food locker.

let me say that again. a bear-proof food locker. oh!-k!

camp curry has a cool little outdoor stage where they give evening talks and play music, a shower hall - which - completely exceeded my expectations. really new and really clean. loved it. not at all like the gross campground bathrooms i'm used to. and then the best part: a walk up patio bar and pizza joint which would be our celebration spot at the end of our hike.

we settled in that evening, organized our clothes for the hike and figured out our food/fuel situation. this is the great thing about traveling with a producer. lizzi had every detail taken care of. from yogurt and fruit for breakfast to trail mix snacks and sandwich stuff for lunch, we would not be starving on that mountain for sure.

we were all set with everything we needed. there was just enough time to have a pre-hike glass (or two) of wine and wait for stars before going to sleep.

dark and stars

i stepped outside of our tent that evening into the Dark. i was startled by how completely dark it was. it was the kind of dark that winterson writes about so beautifully on p. 33 of the passion.

"I don't know why it is that one kind of dark can be so different from another. Real dark is thicker and quieter, it fills up the space between your jacket and your heart. It gets in your eyes. Stand still in the Dark in a field or down a track. It's then you know you're there on sufferance. the Dark only lets you take one step at a time. Step and the Dark closes around your back. In front, there is no space for you until you take it. Darkness is absolute. Lie still at night and Dark is soft to the touch, it's made of moleskin and is such a sweet smotherer."

it was so dense and consuming. i literally could not see two inches in front of my nose. i looked up searching for relief from the stars, and couldn't believe my eyes. the sky was filled with more stars than i had ever seen before in my life. really. i mean more stars than i had ever seen collectively over the course of my entire life. my mind couldn't really process what my eyes were looking at. a million stars, in my view. it was a new moon, and there were no lights anywhere to interfere with their brilliance. it must be the milky-way, liz said. it did, it looked like little bits of shimmering glass and milk spilled across the night sky. amazing. i am still seeing those stars.

happy isles to the mist trail

we started out on the trail before sunrise the next morning; our flashlights piercing the still thick Dark surrounding us. the walk from camp curry to the trail head is about a mile along this wonderfully silent road. i took a picture of this sign to mark the start.

half dome 8.2 miles.

we're trained to understand distance like it is a flat surface. 8.2 miles? we can do that. that's like, from my house to...the office, maybe a little further. yeah, that's fine. i run 8 miles all the time...yeah, that's fine. we can do that. what do you think, 20 minute miles at the most?? right...yeah.

wait...

there is this business of elevation. 8800 ft. in fact.

8.2 miles - *up* - oh...

silence
i didn't realize what *real* silence sounded like. i say *real* because, there are impostors. like now, for instance. i'm sitting here in the office, the girls are asleep, adam is out. there is no television on, the neighbors aren't making noise. and before, i would consider *this* to be quiet; silent even. but when i listen more closely, there is a cacophony of noise. the low hum the refrigerator makes, the dull whooosh of the highway on just the other side of the neighborhood, the sound of wind chimes even. soothing, but still, noise. i wasn't prepared for the kind of silence we would find there. not a single sound. the air was still and so there was no wind rustling the leaves in the trees. there was just the sound of us breathing, and the slight scrape of the dirt under the soles of our shoes as we walked. it was the kind of complete quiet that makes even the faintest whisper sound like you are screaming. we whispered as softly as we could, and even this, rang out into the night.

first light




hiking in twilight is lovely. there is just enough light to allow you to clearly see your way, yet it is still dark enough to not fully awaken the senses; to not yet fully activate the mind and all of its racing thoughts. there was a serenity in that pre-dawn light that was so pure and perfect.

as the hour passed, the twilight began to give way. seeing the sun start to rise over the peak was beautiful. we had just finished another strong climb in elevation and were rewarded with our first peek at half dome. she was bathed in golden warm sunlight and it was a beautiful contrast to the cold blue twilight we had been hiking through. despite us moving at a pretty good clip, i was still cold at this point. it warmed me to see her granite glowing; imagining myself standing up there...

valley of peace




just after sunrise, the steep rocky switchbacks we had been traversing gave way to a stretch of even terrain. this wooded trail was a welcome relief to my quads and calves which were starting to burn from the climb. again, i love how this hike provides relief and reward at just the moments you need. i spent the next mile or more enjoying the way true morning sunlight poured out into this beautiful valley. meditating on the the blessings i have in my life; the people who have shown me so much love. i will always refer to this stretch as the "valley of peace", as liz referred to it during one of our brief exchanges on this part of the trail.

the trail






i love how diverse the trail was. from steep rocky cliffs where you had to hug the side of the mountain to keep from falling over the side, to beautiful wooded passes with soft sand underneath, to smooth granite ascents with views so arresting you want to stand there forever to take it all in.

focus

one of the wonderful lessons this hike reveals involves just how complicated our lives are. how we are constantly juggling so many responsibilities; our attention constantly divided between so many things. the only way to endure this hike is to focus. the climb is extremely difficult and extremely simple. there is just one thing you have to do the whole way, one thing to think about: putting one foot in front of the other. i had no other responsibilities, no where else i needed to be, nothing next i had to do when i was done doing this. just that simple task all day. one foot in front of the other, up to the top of that mountain, and back down again.

scaling the face

after the long climb, half dome is fully revealed. we stood at the base in awe of the final ascent. the only way to get to the top is to grab hold of the cables and start heaving your body directly up the face. look closely. see those little specs? those are people using their own hands and nothing else to climb these steel cables bolted into the granite cliff. still hard to believe i was one of those little specs!




there is no photo that can truly depict how steep it is, but this one gives you an idea. here is the view from about half way up, looking down...



at this point liz was so eager to get to the top, and the guy resting on the side kept fidgeting with my camera. i think she was ready to crush him when he asked after 2 minutes, does this thing have selective focus?

on the summit






the surface of half dome is like nothing i've ever seen on earth. it is what i imagine the surface of mars to be. very little and very unfamiliar vegetation, silty granite and rocks, and so much space on that gradual curve half dome is known for. the view from up there was completely breathtaking, and worth every minute of the punishment it took to get there.

gratitude rocks

there were dozens of little rock sculptures on the summit. statues erected in honor of the various journeys people had made to the top. liz and i spent some time meandering around each one, and then made our own. they were all so tranquil and balanced and beautiful.

the way back down

when we finally decided to descend, it was just after noon. the afternoon sunlight was glorious and it was interesting to see the different perspective coming down than we had making our way up. the trail was warm this time of day, and so many little details i hadn't noticed on the way up, revealed themselves to me.







i saw this tree and smiled. don't we all feel this way sometimes?




the descent was grueling for sure, on an entirely different set of muscles, but i was feeling so light and free. maybe because i left a lot of baggage on that mountain; some heavy stuff i had been carrying with me this year.

we made it back down in record time (2:45). this is the view from the parking lot where we were loading up our stuff into the car. amazing to look up and see half dome with its halo of clouds rising so high into the sky. pinching myself that we sat on that very lip several hours earlier.

the drive back through the valley that late afternoon was wonderful too. the ferns on the valley floor had started to turn a golden yellow and orange. i felt so much gratitude for this experience and was really glad liz could come with me. she was such great company.

there is one thing i will always remember:
we are so much stronger and more capable than we think we are.