The Redemption Hike: Finishing The Upper Yosemite Falls Trail

Earlier this month I wrote about heading up to Yosemite to bust out of winter hibernation mode, rediscover my hiking legs, and start training for the John Muir Trail. If you've read that, you know that despite having a wonderful little trek on the Upper Yosemite Falls trail, the failure to hike barely 2 miles up the mountain felt like someone violently slapping a heavy, icewater-drenched towel against my face.

If you haven't read it:

Finding My Hiking Legs Again: Beating Back Negativity In Yosemite

Trying to escape winter hibernation mode, getting a welcome attitude adjustment, and hitting the trail again. Come along for another hiking photo journal!

Seasons of JasonJason Evangelho

That first attempt was a confluence of wrongness. My headspace was wrong; I was treating it like a training session instead of a moving meditation through nature. My timing was wrong; I jumped off the YARTS bus, set up camp, and immediately hit the mountain without acclimating, which probably explained my dangerously high heart rate after only a few switchbacks. And because of overconfidence, I didn't even bring my trekking poles.

I needed some redemption and a confidence boost after that, so last week I headed back to Yosemite to complete that hike. I emerged from this most recent adventure with a couple stories to tell, but let's start with this one.

Upper Yosemite Falls: Switchback Hell

The Upper Yosemite Falls trail is no joke. The image above is not the entire hike; it's merely the first mile, which throws 60 switchbacks at you from the trailhead to Columbia Rock. I got just a bit further than this (to "Oh My Gosh Point") when I attempted it the first time.

On my second attempt, I charged up to Oh My Gosh Point like a man possessed, only stopping once for a water break. (Well, in addition to multiple brief pauses to soak in the scenery and take photos.) This was because I genuinely felt energetic and motivated. But the weather forecast might have had something to do with that, too. A snowstorm was brewing, and by that evening the snow line would descend below 5000 feet (about where I was currently standing), and end up dumping about 1 foot of snow onto Yosemite Valley.

That meant the weather at the top of this hike would be far more serious.

I was equipped for walking in ice and light snow, but I certainly didn't want to get stuck coming down off the mountain in a whiteout. So I scarfed an energy bar and drank some generous gulps of water while chatting with a couple hikers about the gorgeous views here at the aptly named Oh My Gosh Point.

Then I continued upward, reminding myself that everything after this was forward progress and should be viewed as success, even if I didn't make it to the top.

Honestly, I thought the hardest part was over. I was so wrong!

Up to this point, I'd climbed about 1000 feet in elevation. The second half had me ascending another 1700 feet with 70 more switchbacks. And these are even steeper. If you ever wanted to know what a StairMaster workout from hell might feel like, just hike the Upper Yosemite Falls trail.

Or take the stairs all the way up to the top of the Empire State Building – three consecutive times.

I get to a certain point in tough hikes like this where time stretches out like a big piece of melting taffy. The end seems nowhere in sight. The climbing never ends. The negative thoughts find a tiny crack in my emotional defenses where they can climb back in and start dismantling hope from the inside.

But somehow, the endless visual feast more than compensated for the difficulty. It genuinely seemed like a beautiful new sight was waiting to be enjoyed around every corner. So I tweaked my mindset. I ignored the fiery rebellion erupting in my calves, putting my head down and focusing on my steps. Rewarding myself at the end of each switchback with another slightly different but no less awe-inspiring view of the vistas, the birds, the blooming Manzanitas, the sporadic patches of snow, the imposing granite walls.

About 3 and 1/2 hours after leaving the brisk but sunny world of Camp 4 and Yosemite Valley, I arrived at a completely different world. One blanketed in snow and ice cold creeks, with buffeting winds and thick silence. A wild yet serene world where the only evidence of humanity was a trailhead sign inviting you to go even further into the wilderness. (Which I mentally assigned to a future backpacking trip.)

And all this was only 2700 vertical feet away from the noise and increasing congestion of the Valley.

But the storm was making itself known, and there wasn't much time to linger. I ate my tuna and string cheese tortilla wrap, soaked in as much of the landscape as I could, snapped a few quick photos, and reluctantly started back down the mountain.

After the first few switchbacks, I realized the descent would be an entirely different experience. Not as physically taxing, but exponentially more technical. I'm always a bit fearful of my knee during steeper downhill hikes, and the combination of snow, heavy winds, rain, slippery granite, and endless switchbacks made this a real challenge. (For additional context, I use trail runners and not traditional hiking boots which makes me feel a bit less sure-footed.)

I later described it to my friend Dean as "taking about ten thousand carefully calculated steps for 3 hours straight."

Even with trekking poles, I fell right on my ass twice. And there were several other close calls where I stepped in the wrong spot and almost twisted my ankle. But somehow, none of that phased me. The adrenaline from not only reaching the goal, but the abundance of beauty everywhere around me, drove me forward with a smile on my face.

You might be asking yourself "Um, you went to the very top of Yosemite Falls and didn't take that iconic photo from the lookout?" Dear reader, I have a palpable fear of heights. And after seeing the rather precarious and ridiculously exposed steps to the lookout point, I noped right out of that opportunity.

And that's perfectly OK. The goal wasn't a photo, after all. The goal was the personal satisfaction of finishing one of the most visually rewarding treks I've experienced in my short little hiking career.

The goal was seeing another slice of the paradise that is Yosemite.

And just wait until you see what happened that night!

That Time I Slept On A Bathroom Floor In Yosemite Valley

I’m someone who learns by doing. And I learned a mountain of valuable lessons during a recent stay at Yosemite’s Camp 4 during a snowstorm that transformed the valley into a winter wonderland.

Seasons of JasonJason Evangelho

Happy trails,
~Jason