Hiking Half Dome in Yosemite—that's right, the cables are up
By Amy Anderson, Sunset editorial intern
Growing up, my family never took trips to the beach. I’ve yet to visit Hawaii or Mexico, and I’m pale year round. Instead, we were all about the National Parks: road trips to Yellowstone and the Tetons, camping, kayaking, hiking.
But surprisingly, I’d never been to Yosemite. Until last weekend, when my dad (fellow hiker and adventurer extraordinaire) and I left San Francisco on Friday night and woke up Saturday morning in our canvas cabin in Curry Village — surrounded by granite walls and massive trees.
Committed to conquering the hardest possible hike everywhere we go, naturally my dad and I chose to hike Half Dome, 8,800 feet above sea level. Here's the iconic image that Ansel Adams captured in his photographs:
Daunting? I agree.
For a little inspiration, here's our Half Dome experience:
We were on the trail by 6:30 am, along with all the other early bird hikers trying to beat the heat and crowds. Our backpacks were filled with water bottles, Gatorade, and power bars to last us the projected 10-12 hours of the hike.
We took Happy Isles trail to the Mist Trail, excited to see the rushing waterfalls that spring in Yosemite is known for.
Note: the name Mist Trail is quite misleading at this time of the year. It should definitely be renamed Downpour Trail. As we climbed slick stair after steep stair to get to the top of Vernal Fall, it was like we were in the middle of a storm— we came out completely drenched.
I was not pleased.
Nearing the top and practically in tears, I told my dad that I couldn’t do it. We'd only gone a mile-and-a- half, but, already, I was fed up. But Yosemite's climate is tricky—if I turned back, I would have to go right through the downpour again. If I kept going, I would dry off in the sun. So I swore at the waterfall under my breath, wiped off my wet camera, and continued.

By 11:00am, we were at Half Dome, staring up at the cables that would take us to the very top. The last 400 feet are traversed by walking nearly vertically up the rock face, gripping wire cables on either side. There’s nothing to strap you in—you just hold on for dear life and pull your way up.
The cables were just put up for the season the day before we arrived. (Depending on the weather, you can expect them to go up around the third weekend in May each year.)
But getting all the way to the top made it worth the wetness, exhaustion, and complete and total fear hanging from a cable 8,000 feet up.
I sat on the rock and stared at the views around me, soaking in the delight of accomplishment before descending on the cables—an equally intimidating challenge—while fighting the now bigger crowds.
Nine hours after we started on Happy Isles Trail, we were back down to the trailhead, hobbling and groaning, but proud. Already planning which mountain to climb next.
Yosemite National Park: $20 entrance fee; www.nps.gov/yose