Most of the articles, books, blogs and what not that have been written about the cable route, describe the descent as worse than the climb. I’d have to agree since you have less control with gravity pulling you downwards, and little friction on the granite to keep you from sliding down. I actually had an easier time of it though, with two simple tricks. First was to remove the fear factor by wearing a light harness, and clipping onto the cable. No chance of falling out of the cables if you slip. The second was to treat this like a rappel - I just faced the top, gripped one cable, and slid down from pole to pole, stopping only to clip to the next stretch of cable. Except for the places you had to step down or switch to a new cable, it was almost fun. Really. I was down in about 20 minutes, with much less effort than going up. from the top. Piece of cake.
Once down to the saddle, we had to head back up a short distance to the top of the Sub Dome again. Crap. That hundred or so feet seemed a lot higher now - and why were my legs so sore? Craig had already headed down to the shade trees below the dome, so Garry and I just bushwhacked our way down until we found the step-trail. I was very, very careful, since I was really tired - this is where you are most risk for taking a bad fall, so I used one hiking pole for balance, which helped a lot. It was a long way down from the top, but we made it without incident.
We found Craig at the bottom, high-fived in celebration, and then started down the long trail to LIttle Yosemite Valley. I did manage to enjoy the great views until we hit the forest trail.
Once past the nice view above, we stepped into the forest above Little Yosemite Valley, and headed down the rocky trail. I was low on water, and very low on energy. We eventually came to a spot where there was a small spring of clear, cool water and stopped to refill. I refilled my small bottle, but did not bother to refill the bladder since I figured I had enough to get me down to Nevada Falls. Duh. Must have been early onset of dementia. We trudged along, and somewhere along the way I made a mis-step and felt that awful twinge in my lower back, which I decided to ignore. Advil might have helped at that point. So, on and on the trail went. Craig and Garry moved on ahead while I continued on down to the junction at Little Yosemite Valley - just another mile or so on a relatively flat trail to the falls and more water. It was a really looonnnngg mile - I was thirsty, fatigued, and in pain from my back which was beginning to spasm. I was looking for a glimpse of the outhouse at every rise in the trail, since that was just above the falls. Where the f*** was it? Finally, I dragged myself up the last rise, and had .2 miles to go to the falls. Craig spotted me, and called out to get my attention - I dragged myself down to a rock, pulled my pack off and promptly keeled over onto the gravel, knee first of course. The same knee that I banged up months ago when I tripped on the trail at Pinnacles National Park. Another bloody knee, but at least I keep reusing the same scar.
Garry brought bottle after bottle of water to me - I drank a quart, and filled up the bladder this time. I was really, really weak and in a lot of pain from my back - I swallowed a couple of Advil, which helped over time. After washing off my knee, we headed back down - it was already late in the day (7PM), so there was not much daylight left. The odds of us having a celebration at the bar were slim.
It’s about 4 miles down to the the camp, with 2000 feet of elevation loss. The trail does not seem that rough or steep on the way up, but when you are listing to starboard with a bad back, and fading rapidly, the endless rocky sections and swtich-backs were agony. I was leaning heavily on my hiking sticks, so the first thing that went were my hands which started to cramp. Very unpleasant.
My pace was really slow - fortunately, I had lots of water, but my legs were burning and my lower back was starting to spasm. Craig walked behind me, and was constantly grabbing my pack whenever it looked like I was about to keel over. The trail is just an endless series of switchbacks, at least that is the way I felt. It soon got dark enough where we needed to use headlamps.
I really did not think I was going to make it down under my own power, and both Craig and Garry came to the same conclusion. I probably looked like crap at that point, keeled over to one side and sweating profusely. Garry volunteered to go down the rest of the way and find a ranger, or just call 911. They helped me down to a nice, angled chunk of granite, and I stretched out on the trail. Garry handed me a few more Advil, and headed on down. It was pitch black dark, so I kept my headlamp on to light up the area, and we settled in to wait for help. This was really depressing - aside from missing out on a nice dinner, wine, and ice cream, I was facing the embarrassment of being hauled down the last mile or so on a stretcher.
More to come in the next post.
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