The James Bond of Half Dome
This Saturday, I'm preparing to embark on a hike known as a "butt-kicker." (It's a technical term.)
Most of the time, I'm satisfied with tramping along for five or so miles. At times, I'm even happy with a couple of easy miles.
Other times, a weird streak of masochism surfaces and I say things like, "I think I'm going to climb Half Dome this weekend. I'm ready for a butt-kicker."
Note: the climb up Half Dome and back is about 17 miles. I did it last year, and it hurt. It was a good kind of pain.
Anyway, I decided that I'd climb Half Dome again on Saturday. I gleefully planned on getting up at 4 a.m. to begin the drive out to Yosemite. I silently debated what energy bars I would buy and how much water I'd lug up the trail. I weighed the pros and cons of wearing shorts or hiking pants that convert to shorts.
When I get excited about difficult hikes, I tend to rant on and on about them to patient friends. I inflicted a rant on my friend Danielle yesterday, and she remarked that embarking on butt-kicking hiking adventures is the closest I ever get to being James Bond.
Since that conversation, the 007 of Half Dome has taken a cold shower.
A hiking colleague pointed out that Saturday is part of the July 4 weekend, meaning Yosemite will probably resemble Disneyland because of the crowds.
I'm settling for an alternative butt-kicker this Saturday, but this isn't over.
Half Dome: You will be mine.
Bwah-ha-ha!
Most of the time, I'm satisfied with tramping along for five or so miles. At times, I'm even happy with a couple of easy miles.
Other times, a weird streak of masochism surfaces and I say things like, "I think I'm going to climb Half Dome this weekend. I'm ready for a butt-kicker."
Note: the climb up Half Dome and back is about 17 miles. I did it last year, and it hurt. It was a good kind of pain.
Anyway, I decided that I'd climb Half Dome again on Saturday. I gleefully planned on getting up at 4 a.m. to begin the drive out to Yosemite. I silently debated what energy bars I would buy and how much water I'd lug up the trail. I weighed the pros and cons of wearing shorts or hiking pants that convert to shorts.
When I get excited about difficult hikes, I tend to rant on and on about them to patient friends. I inflicted a rant on my friend Danielle yesterday, and she remarked that embarking on butt-kicking hiking adventures is the closest I ever get to being James Bond.
Since that conversation, the 007 of Half Dome has taken a cold shower.
A hiking colleague pointed out that Saturday is part of the July 4 weekend, meaning Yosemite will probably resemble Disneyland because of the crowds.
I'm settling for an alternative butt-kicker this Saturday, but this isn't over.
Half Dome: You will be mine.
Bwah-ha-ha!
posted by Christina at 2:34 PM
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