YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK – The last 180 meters to the 3,000-meter summit of Clouds Rest, overlooking Yosemite Valley, are called the “Arete” by the French.
If you have even the slightest fear of heights, you would call it madness.
Arete is the name given by geologists to a narrow rocky ridge that separates two valleys formed by glaciers.
They were formed by glaciers and sharpened by the weathering process as they thawed, hence the name “razor” given by many to the last 180 meters that must be covered to reach the summit.
I hiked it for the first time 11 years ago.
I plan my third trip next summer when the Tioga Road is cleared of snow, since the trailhead at the west end of Sunrise Lake is four miles shorter than the route from Yosemite Valley.
From the starting point on Tioga Road, it is a 23.3 km loop with an elevation gain of 544 m versus a net elevation gain of 1,833 m over 29.9 km.
The shorter route can be a bit boring as it goes through more forest, although there is plenty to see in Yosemite National Park until you take the shortcut to Razor.
The trailhead at Sunrise Lakes is at an elevation of 2,467 meters.
You will need mosquito repellent as the first half mile passes over streams and small lakes.
The most difficult part of the hike begins after about 2.4 km, where a series of switchbacks quickly add up to 300 of the total 544 m of elevation gain that you will cover during the hike.
In Clouds Rest I understood what is meant by the expression “Life is best lived in many small steps”.
Why this is so becomes clear when you think about each step you take as you carefully cross a rocky ridge that widens to no more than six meters over a distance of 180 meters.
Consider that you are at an altitude of 3,000 meters and dealing with granite blocks on a razor-thin ridge, with a 1,520 meter drop on one side and another 600 meters or so on the other.
I became obsessed with climbing Clouds Rest after paying $50 for a framed photograph taken from the summit of Clouds Rest looking south toward Half Dome on the other side of Tenya Canyon.
What reinforced this belief was watching several YouTube videos that other hikers had taken with helmet cameras on their hike across the Razor.
Just looking at her made my heart race.
My first hike to Clouds Rest was planned so that I could take my then 15-year-old nephew Garrison MacQueen on the hike, which I scheduled between a hike up Mount Whitney the day before and the tourist magnet known as the Mist Trail the next day.
Then, about two weeks before the trip, I made a mistake.
I watched a YouTube video that a hiker had taken with a video camera while hiking the treacherous ridge. It was 21 seconds long, but long enough to get my heart rate racing and question my sanity.
It didn’t help that internet posts about the hike described the narrowest part as being between 1.8 and 3 metres wide.
I found this to be a bit misleading, but if you strayed far from this area, you would suddenly end up in a narrow area between the ridge and a steep drop.
Equally unsettling was the fact that some reports focused on a 53-year-old woman who fell over the edge in 2009, bounced several times and came to rest 25 metres below on a ledge just before a steep slope.
After hiking just over seven miles from the Sunrise Lakes Trailhead, we reached “The Razor,” which stretches for about 1,000 feet before reaching the summit, which is a generous 50 feet wide.
Garrison followed me, which made it all the more important to make sure I chose the right steps on the uneven granite blocks on the other side of the ridge.
It would not have been a good time if we had suddenly found out that one of us was afraid of heights.
There were two points where the alarm bell went off in my head: “This is not a good idea.”
In front of me was a granite rock with a surface 1.20 meters wide, with a step about 90 centimeters high leading up to it. On the other side there was probably a good 60 centimeters, but that wasn’t much use if you lost your footing while climbing up.
For some reason I remembered advice from a fellow cyclist from Exeter that I had received 26 years earlier on my first trip to Death Valley as part of an optional route on a Backroads Touring excursion, when we were cycling up an 18 percent gradient.
Instead of keeping my eyes on the ridge, he told me to focus on the ground and gain power by covering short distances while quickly looking up in between to make sure I was still on course. His theory was simple.
Herculean tasks become doable when broken down into small steps. This builds confidence and prevents you from becoming so discouraged that you give up on the journey.
Even though crossing the Razor was quite dangerous – I wouldn’t do it in strong winds or wet weather – it was no reason for a panic attack.
Once at the top, the view was incredible, especially the smile on Garrison’s face.
Garrison was convinced I was crazy. He told my sister that my idea of a break from hiking was walking rather than running. That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but Garrison gave me strength.
The day before, Garrison had developed altitude sickness at 12,000 feet on Mount Whitney. He had been walking at a steady pace before it hit him. He felt nauseous and had a splitting headache. I suggested we turn around. He wanted to keep going. I thought if we took it easy, we could see what happened. The time between stops grew shorter and shorter. Still, Garrison’s smile never faded.
Eventually, we realized that continuing would only make matters worse and that the additional elevation gain we would have to make to reach the 4,437-meter summit would not only be painful but also problematic if it caused permanent problems on the descent.
Turning around was a blessing. On my two previous trips up Mount Whitney, I hadn’t taken the time to explore the scenery as I passed. It’s a challenging 22-mile day hike that you start about an hour after midnight so you can reach the summit early enough to avoid darkness on the way back.
On this trip, however, we had time to admire a lush strip of alpine meadow at an altitude of almost 12,000 feet, talk about life, and watch fish jumping out of the water in Mirror Lake.
At one point on the descent, at about 2,500 meters, we stopped for ten minutes and discussed whether the five birds making cooing noises on rocks about two meters in front of us could be quail, since we only saw them hopping around.
And while I was disappointed for Garrison that we didn’t reach the summit (he did on a later trip), I can assure you that his company and his unbridled enthusiasm for what we could see from there made it an even more rewarding experience for me than the first time I actually made it to the top.
The view from the summit is nothing but endless expanse, characterized by endless granite. In terms of amazement, it cannot be compared to seeing the world through the eyes of a 15-year-old.
A 15-year-old who, by the way, was downright fearless when we talked about the hike to Clouds Rest and saw it not as a strenuous hike, but as an incredible adventure.
And no matter how stressed or tired he was, he never stopped smiling.
There are some sights to see on the drive to Clouds Rest.
There are numerous wildflowers, a lake or two, meadows and breathtaking views.
The trail has several forks. You just have to stay to the right (basically straight ahead). There is one confusing fork where none of the metal signposts have “Clouds Rest” stamped on them, although someone has thoughtfully scratched “Clouds Rest” into the metal.
The six to eight hour round trip to the summit is worth it.
It offers absolutely stunning views of Yosemite Valley, a unique view of Half Dome, and the opportunity to see virtually all of the major Yosemite National Park attractions you know about and many others you’ve never seen before.
Bring binoculars and watch hikers climb the Half Dome ropes while resting at the summit of Clouds Rest.
And perhaps best of all, you can explore almost the entire Yosemite Valley without encountering a car or a crowd of people.
