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Yosemite National Park

Half Dome: Half Way To Heaven?

Posted on February 21, 2017 1 Comment

“What is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above.” – Renee Daumal

EVERY HUMAN BEING should be fortunate enough to sleep at least one night on top of a mountain, under a starry blanket. John Muir exhorted his followers, “go to the mountains and get their good tidings.” He minced no words describing the potential power of mountaintop experiences to be transcendental, perhaps connecting hikers with heaven. Loren Eiseley noted that, although adventures like these may or may not connect hikers to God, they often result in hikers having a vision or seeing a marvel. Although results cannot be predicted, the limitless possibilities range from subtle to profound to sublime.

There are 1000s of mountaintops, tors, buttes and mesas in the US where a high school biology class could camp out for a night. However, few (if any) can compare with Yosemite’s iconic Half Dome. Twenty-four Biodesign Classes eagerly accepted John Muir’s challenge to climb Half Dome, perhaps in search of a “born again” experience.

In the 1970s, our idea of challenging students to stretch their physical, mental and spiritual wings closely paralleled the goals of the highly successful wilderness program called, “Outward Bound.”

Although each new class had seen countless images and heard numerous stories about the world-famous Half Dome, nothing could prepare them for the view they saw when they arrived at Glacier Point. The view was so extraordinary that it often rendered students speechless. On one trip, while looking up at Half Dome, a male student exclaimed to a classmate, “He’s freakin’ nuts if he thinks I am going to sleep up there!”

Although 20 Biodesign classes made it to the top of Half Dome, only 16 were fortunate enough to sleep overnight (before the practice was banned by YNPS).

I have to admit that, before each of those 16 trips, I questioned my own mental stability.

Those fortunate enough to succeed were offered an extraordinary spectacle that most will never see again. Typically, the Big Dipper loomed above to the north with Merak and Dubhe lined up pointing to Polaris (the north star). Those having trouble sleeping could watch the handle of the giant dipper slowly tick off the changing hours of the night.

Of course, each trip was unique and depended on countless variables. However, when the stars aligned favorably we were able to sit in a circle, read some passages from Muir and share what we were seeing, thinking and feeling. During these events, my role as leader shifted to the role as observer. I often marveled at the innate wisdom that the students exhibited.

On one particular occasion, the level of communication and spiritual camaraderie rose to such a height that it felt surreal. We were snuggled in a tightly bonded circle. The autumn air was chilly and the stars were so brilliant they appeared to be close enough for us to reach out and pick a basket of them.

And then suddenly “it” happened. As students shared their deepest reflections, without warning, they were presented with the dilemma of wondering whether the whole class mysteriously levitated upward toward heaven or if heaven mysteriously descended down to engulf them. The Eastern Orthodox Church uses the term, “mandorla,” (almond shaped design) to depict sacred moments which transcend time and space, including the overlap between heaven and Earth. I am not a religious scholar, but this experience seemed to match the Greek concept.

The next morning during breakfast, it was clear to me that the students had changed. The countenance of many of the girls was subtly radiant, not unlike da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. The mood of the guys was unusually quiet, more contemplative; some looked a little spooked. I didn’t comment, but imagined some of their private conversations included questions like: “What the heck happened during our circle last night?”

They were in good company. Muir cautioned us that there were no Earthly words that could adequately describe spiritual events.

The students were not the only ones with a beguiling mystery. I too pondered over the event. It was only after returning home that it occurred to me that, aside from my wedding day and assisting with our youngest child’s birth, my star-struck experience on Half Dome was the most intense spiritual awakening in my life.

So, Muir came down from Yosemite’s mountains with, “Thoughts and deeds that moved the world.” Each year, our students came down from Half Dome having seen wonders, marvels, even little miracles or perhaps being gifted with a glimpse into heaven.

Lowell H. Young
Author: Biodesign Out For A Walk

young.lowell@gmail.com

Posted in: Reflections | Tagged: Bio-spirituality, Biodesign class, Biodesign Out For A Walk, Half Dome, John Muir vision, Yosemite National Park

Salvestrin Family Out For A Walk

Posted on September 26, 2016 Leave a Comment
Photo credit: Mark Salvestrin
Photo credit: Mark Salvestrin

Dear Lowell and Christie,

The first day I walked through the door to room 103 I had no idea how an advanced Biology class would influence the rest of my life.  Some of the concepts we learned and the ideas we shared took shape as threads that would be intricately woven into the fabric of my life.  I wish I could say that at last those lessons have been mastered but even now principle is much easier than practice.

My family has heard and read about some of the adventures we experienced but this past weekend I was able to share first hand with Amy and Kaitlyn some of the magic Biodesign imparted to those brave or curious enough to sign on.  After months of anticipation the day finally arrived for us to attempt the hike up Half Dome.  With permits in hand, we set out at 4:45 am to see if we had what it takes to stand on top of that iconic peak.

The adventure actually started months earlier for Amy and I.  We logged nearly 60 miles on the weekends prior to the hike.  Several day hikes in excess of 13 miles at altitudes up to 9000 feet were the cornerstones of our training routines.  One was even a day trip to Yosemite, up the Mist Trail to Little Yosemite then another two miles up the Merced, fishing as we went and then back down the Mist Trail fighting our way past about 3000 people in that 3 mile space.  As we came around a corner below the Vernal Falls viewing bridge there was a young man down on one knee, his wife to be still with her mouth open in shock and yet to say yes.  She eventually did say yes and I grabbed his phone and took their photo with him back down on his knee.

I thought we had trained adequately for the hike but I was wrong.  I thought I had planned everything out so that the hike would be strenuous but not overly difficult.  Again, I was wrong!

It had been 20 something years since I last made that climb and as with all things time had softened the task (and me).  We purposely started nearly two hours before sunrise so that the grueling steps up the Mist Trail were mostly behind us before we could see well enough to realize it.  That plan seemed to be perfect as we reached the top of Vernal Falls by 6:00 and the top of Nevada Falls by 7:15.  8:00 had us at the upper end of Little Yosemite and, though I didn’t know it yet, I was feeling way too confident about our progress.

Like so many things about this hike, I did not remember how grueling the grade from Little Yosemite to the base of the staircase is.  I now fully understand what those before me went through just getting to that point.  After a break at the base of the stairs we checked in with the rangers and started the ascent up the granite stairs.  Amy and Kaitlyn were above me and I was struggling to get my legs started again.  It was the first of two occasions where I had serious doubts as to whether or not I would be able to finish the hike.  Eventually my legs loosened up and I felt better about continuing but it was very unsettling to have had the realization that I quite possibly may not be able to finish the ascent.

When we reached the base of the cables I did my best to hide my uneasiness and mask my shaken confidence.  This entire endeavor had been my idea, my desire to share part of what I had been given over the years with those that I loved and I was no longer sure I could pull it off.  At that point, the fearlessness of youth pulled us to the bottom of the cables.  Not my youth, that’s long gone, but Kaitlyn’s desire to put the last bit of the climb behind us forced me to push myself past the uncertainty.

As we started up the cables I began to relax a little.  The pace was extremely slow due to the fact that every board had a person standing on it.  Every one from top to bottom and most had one person going up and one person coming down.  While this slowed the pace it also gave one time to consider what was happening.  As I said before, time had softened more than just the task at hand but now I was also acutely aware that the fearlessness of youth I once possessed was gone.  I wanted to think it had been replaced by wisdom but given my situation I had a hard time reconciling that notion as well.

This was the second time that I had no idea how I was going to continue on.  I only had seven steep boards left.  Amy was three ahead and Kaitlyn was on top and out of sight.  Even now as I write this I have no recollection of what got me past that last 100 feet.  I was completely out of breath, arm tucked over the right cable and sure I was done and then the next thing I knew the three of us were sitting on top taking in all the breathtaking views we had earned.

The entire hike took far longer than I had anticipated.  Though we reached the top at 12:45 pm it would be nearly 9:00 before we were comfortably seated in the car.  The slow descent down the cables and staircase along with the added 1.4 mile decision to avoid the Mist Trail and the extra half mile past the trailhead parking lot because it was full made the entire excursion about 19 miles.  We decided to take it as slowly back as we needed to and with the exception of the last mile or so all three “C’s” were kept in check.

As you will see from one of the photos I have sent you, Biodesign was quite literally (pun intended) with us and I will be forever grateful for the experience I gained from our outings.  I will say however, it was the two women I was with this time that pulled me up that mountain and I will likewise be forever grateful for their strength, patience and love.

Mark

Lowell H. Young
Author: Biodesign Out For A Walk

young.lowell@gmail.com

Posted in: Reflections | Tagged: Author Lowell Harrison Young, Biodesign Out For A Walk, Half Dome, Mark Salvetrin, Yosemite, Yosemite National Park

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