Missing the family at Half Dome

Jenny Bioche would be proud of me. Jenny, you see, is a Newport Beach

resident who writes a column in OC Family magazine called “Parents

Need A Life,” in which she offers guidance for parents who want to

keep their sanity while raising their kids. She’ll suggest ways for

parents to get some time for themselves such as planning an evening

out or taking a trip without the kids.

Jenny knows that I have a friendly disagreement with this concept.

My belief is that parenting is strictly a volunteer opportunity and

that if you’re not ready to put your kids ahead of you in almost

everything, you shouldn’t have kids.

That doesn’t mean that parents can’t ever go out to dinner alone

or with friends, it means that as a parent, each day should be

structured around what is best for the kids and only when there is a

special opportunity should parents take time off. Of course, the

argument could be made that taking some time off would be good for

the kids and perhaps that’s true.

One night a month, it seems to me, is reasonable.

Jenny would be proud of me because I actually took a whole weekend

off without the kids. Actually, I took it off without my wife, too.

This trip was about 13 years in the making. In 1990, my wife and I

and a friend, Scott Thomas, took a trip to Yosemite National Park.

Scott and I planned to hike to the top of Half Dome, one of the

West’s and perhaps the nation’s, most recognizable icons.

Scott and I started out at 6 a.m., planning to spend about 12

hours on the trail. The hike is 17 miles round trip, 16 of which is

quite pleasant. About a half mile from the peak, however, the trail

turns nasty, very nasty. It is at that point, after hiking eight

miles, that you have to navigate about a quarter of a mile, probably

a little more, of steps. The steps are uneven and endless. They were

hard to do with my younger legs and even harder last weekend at age

48.

Once the steps are done, it’s time to climb the back side of the

granite dome. The trajectory of the 400-foot climb is -- my guess --

about 70-degrees, almost straight up. The surface is slick granite.

To reach the summit, you have to pull yourself along by gripping

steel cables that run though poles imbedded in the rock. The poles

are about 10-feet apart.

The physical and mental challenge is indescribable. Besides having

to use every muscle to pull yourself along the cables, there is the

lingering thought that one false step means death.

My niece, Laura West, 18, made the trip a week ago but did not

challenge the cables. But my brother-in-law, Bud West, once climbed

the dome without the cables, crawling instead to each of the 2 X 4s

that rest against the poles that are 10-feet apart.

Bud’s the exception. Most people, including my two hiking buddies,

Steve Thomas and Craig Reem, will tell you, that the hike is the most

physically demanding thing they’ve ever done. That’s a mouthful

coming from Craig who is in excellent shape.

Getting to the summit is an achievement you never forget. I’ve

never had a deep religious experience but I have to believe that

getting to the top is close.

The time away from the family was often bittersweet. On the day we

arrived, the weather was perfect. There was still plenty of water in

all the falls and the summer crowds were not close to what they used

to be, thanks to the flood of 1997 that wiped out so many campgrounds

and cabins. That year, it seems, Mother Nature took care of the

business that too many committees had been agonizing over for too

long.

With the perfect weather, the water and our very nice

accommodations, my first wish was that my family was with me instead

of my two friends. I don’t think they’ll be insulted to read that as

they were probably wishing they were there with their own families

instead of with their two friends. Like me, the trip was Craig’s

first one away from home without his family in 16 years of marriage,

not counting business trips.

Riding our bikes around the valley floor only made it worse. If I

had to pick one activity that that has brought our family more joy

than any other, it would be bike riding in Yosemite.

On the hike, I wondered when my kids would be old enough and

sufficiently prepared both mentally and physically to come along with

me. The answer came a few minutes after I got back when my

13-year-old daughter asked me if she could climb Half Dome with me,

too. I’ve already started making arrangements for a trip next spring.

But if it’s OK with Jenny, I think I’ll just keep spending time

with the family as I have been. This, too, is close to a religious

experience.

* STEVE SMITH is a Costa Mesa resident and freelance writer.

Readers may leave a message for him on the Daily Pilot hotline at

(949) 642-6086.