On June 13, 2009, a hiker climbing up the Half Dome cables in Yosemite National Park fell to his death. Almost immediately thereafter, calls went out to install a permit system, require hikers to be roped to the cables, remove the cables altogether, and/or do nothing.
The National Park Service is fairly inconsistent in its treatment of risk. At Grand Canyon, only a wilfully oblivious tourist can make it past all the Warning: You Are Entering The Death Zone! signs before venturing down into the canyon. At Black Canyon of the Gunnison, one note in the tourist brochure merely points out that climbing into the canyon is for experienced climbers only. Angels Landing in Zion National Park likewise has notes in the brochure, cables, and a history of death by falling (although it barely nudged my personal Fear-O-Meter).
This diary will focus on Half Dome in Yosemite National Park in particular, but there are many dangers in wild places, beginning with simply disappearing for five days. To paraphrase Bilbo Baggins, it's a dangerous business, stepping out on to that trail -- it could mean the death of a certain Southern governor's national ambitions
I climbed Half Dome for my 40th birthday. I've hiked all over the West in all sorts of conditions, and I believed that I had no fear of heights. For years I've been slightly contemptuous towards my ex husband who couldn't venture within five feet of the edge at Glacier Point. I'd seen pictures of the Half Dome climb before the hike, like this (photo credit LA Times): The Park Service has thoughtfully left steps made out of wooden boards and placed cables to serve as handrails, so it can't be any harder than walking up a staircase, right?
I started from Curry Village before sunrise. The trail went up, flattened out at Little Yosemite Valley, and continued up; Half Dome is about 4400 feet above Yosemite Valley. When I first saw the cables, I began questioning my sanity, but determined that it couldn't be that bad, could it? (For those wholly unfamiliar with the area, the hiking trail traverses Half Dome's less steep north side, not its famous sheer face; the straight-ish lines in the center of this wikimedia photo are the cables.)
After a particularly steep stair-stepping section, I emerged at a chicken- out point just below Half Dome itself: a series of flat boulders where one could sit, eat a sandwich, catch one's breath, and look straight up and think, "oh, $hit, I can't do that!" A few hikers I'd encountered on the trail decided that was quite far enough, thankyouverymuch. A sign warns climbers not to attempt the route if there is a remote chance of a storm. I started the climb. And then I froze.
The first photo above is deceptive. It doesn't convey the distance between each tread of the stair boards -- 20 to 30 feet. It doesn't show the steepness of the climb -- I was hauling myself up with my arms and only using my feet to stop sliding down the cables. It doesn't show the risk -- if you fall to your right, you die, and if you fall to your left, you die. About a third of the way up, I realized -- I can't do this! I was petrified, afraid to go on and afraid to go down. Luckily for me, the person immediately below me told me to keep going, one foot at a time, don't look down, and I made it to the top uneventfully. Since then, it's become a sort of mantra for me -- I climbed Half Dome, I can do anything!
On June 13, Manoj Kumar, a 40 year old software engineer, was not as lucky as I was.
The cables are always most crowded on Saturdays. Rain, fog, and sporadic hail moved in by early afternoon that day, and the cables had become slippery. A climber on the cables at the same time as Kumar reported that no one was trying to continue up, but it took people two hours to get down in the most harrowing experience of one's life.
Yosemite can be a risky place, like all wilderness. On June 15, a Park concession worker fell to his death from an unnamed cliff above Mirror Lake. A website, Hike Half Dome, lists three fatal falls, one suicide, and one amazing non-fatal fall since 2005. A book, Off the Wall: Death in Yosemite concludes that young men who think they're invulnerable aren't, and are most likely to be killed.
Some people familiar with Half Dome urge the Park Service to adopt a quota or permit system like the one at Mount Whitney; the cables are simply too crowded to be safe. Others recommend requiring all hikers to use climbing harnesses and carabiners while on the cables. Still others opine that the cables need to come down completely, so that Half Dome will be off limits to all but the most dedicated rock climbers; the cables create an illusion of safety such that tourists in Tevas think any moran can do this, and the less human-made intrusion on granite, the better.
There's a fierce joy in challenging wilderness on its own terms without being roped and carabined into safety. In law school, we're taught the doctrine of assuming a risk (legalese for social Darwinism), and people who choose to climb assume the risks. I'm more willing to regulate risks that we must assume as a part of daily living, but climbing Half Dome is hardly a necessity of life, is it? I also note the generality that people most likely to die may be the people least likely to respect quotas and use safety equipment. What you think? Republicans often accuse Democrats of wanting a nanny state; however, to me there's plenty of libertarianism in the Democratic party.
Do you favor more regulation or do you let people assume risks when they venture into the wild? For another kind of risk in the wild, if you didn't catch the amazing story of A Grizzly Ate My Brother -- Perseverance in Tough Times, there's a reason it was on the rec list.
And if Mark Sanford decides to be incognito on the Appalachian Trail, is he taking an unreasonable risk? There's an ethical issue with a sitting governor disappearing from view for days at a time, and another one with choosing to put himself in a potentially risky situation without backup, albeit a slim risk. For a nice political background on the Appalachian Trail, which has received stimulus funds that Governor Sanford opposed, check out Gov. Sanford is a closet...socialist?
As always, hike on! (but do let someone know where you're going, and keep an eye on bad weather)