Solo or nearly-solo climbing seems to be the theme of this summer's climbing thus far, and this weekend was no exception. Snake Dike is an 8-pitch 5.7R route that goes up the side of Half Dome. It's beautiful, but seriously run out (see www.supertopos.com for a topo). Luckily, the runout pitches are much like Sliding Board - 5.2-5.5 with one or no bolts in the middle. Fun! Without further ado: Snake Dike and friends, June 15-17 2001 A recent bit of spouting off in rec.climbing proved handy, and I got an email from Sumo (er, Jeremy) offering me a ride to Yosemite as he wandered down to the valley for a bit of punishment from rec.climbing's esteemed crack dealer, Karl Baba. Needless to say, I accepted. And affirmed that coming back late Monday, and leaving early Friday, was great too. With a bit of schedule twisting, I dragged myself out of bed at 5am Friday, wandered in to work, and actually got something done aside from printing out the Snake Dike topo. But I still hadn't found a partner for the Dike. I figured I'd trust my luck and see what turned up when I got to Yosemite. Friday night, I crashed on the carpet at the base of Karl's climbing wall, a remarkably comfy spot. I was awakened at almost exactly 7am (the intended wakeup time) by a deer stomping its feet three feet from me. Apparently, a human in a bivy sack with mosquito netting over his head doesn't look very threatening. If this comes as a surprise, you haven't seen me with mosquito netting on my head. Saturday, it was off to the valley. Despite a slightly late arrival, spots in Camp 4 were plentiful. 15 minutes after scribbling a "Want to climb Snake Dike on Sunday?" note, a fellow named Patrick wandered in and took me up on my offer -- good luck! Patrick, with shaved head and four-inch long scraggly beard, had accumulated a bit of savings and was planning on spending the summer in Yosemite without any regular partners. We consulted with some other climbers, examined the topos, and decided that the best approach was to drag our butts out of bed at quarter to five and start hiking in early. With thoughts of Snake Dike in my head, I entertained myself for a while (and tried to remember how to climb) at Glacier Point, heading up Monday Morning Slab Left (5.2), and back down Monday Morning Slab Right (5.1). It must be early in the season still, because a few of the moves felt kind of committing for 5.2. A bit of slabbing on the Goblet Right (5.4 and astoundingly short) had me convinced that I should just hike up to Half Dome and jump off the edge, because if 5.4 was that hard, I was dead meat on runout 5.6. Luckily, I think it was just a fluke of YMS training herds of climbers who all polished the rock, and some kind of mental free-solo grade inflation. Sunday came. It was early. Very early. Despite a run back to my camp to pick up the topo I'd forgotten, we started hiking from the Curry Village lot at 5:20am. We reached Nevada Falls in about an hour and a half, where Patrick, wiser than I, decided to re-fill his water bottles with some iodine assistance. I relied upon my camelbak and nalgene to keep me happy, and soon we were meandering our way along the climber's approach to the southwest face of Half Dome. We only got lost twice on the way, and both periods of wandering were blessedly brief, though somewhat nerve-wracking. We snuck past the west side of Lost Lake, an astonishingly pretty vegetation-filled lake nestled between a few peaks, and finally started racking up at the base of the climb about four hours after departing. Patrick asked for the lead on the first pitch, and I cheerfully admit that I was glad to have a warm-up pitch before taking the lead. He cruised it, getting in a .75 camalot off to the right before the friction moves. He belayed from the belay bolts, which necessitated a small bit of simul-climbing. Following the friction moves with a pack felt a bit shaky, so logically, I squished any chance of weaseling out of the other 5.7 section by asking for the lead. Without a pack, the rock felt much more sticky. I missed the actual belay bolts, which were supposed to be hiding somewhere off to the left, and ended up combining the second and third pitches, again with a bit of simul'ing. The remainder of the climb was straightforward, disposing as it does of the necessity of protection. We swapped leads and generally enjoyed ourselves, though the "5.2 friction" at the last pitch is actually a tad bit harder when you go the wrong way. One gear belay (bringing our total placement list to a #.75, #11, and #2 Camalog) took us to the start of the endless slabs, and we started hiking. And hiking. And, even more hiking. Endless slabs at 8500 feet are surprisingly irksome, but the views during the climb and from the top were worth the calf pain. Go see them, they're too nice for me to try to describe. The descent was full of blisters and aching knees, but uneventful. A logjam on the cables descending Half Dome introduced us to the joy of going hand-over-hand on the outside (far more efficient), and then we settled in for a rather dry descent -- I'd gotten down to about 8oz of water by the base of the dome. Three cheers for the water-fountain at Vernal falls. The ice cream stand at the base of the trail knows well the powerful hunger and thirst of the weary Half Dome hikers and climbers, and prices its wares accordingly. Patrick asked, "Isn't it true that people who complete a route on half dome in under 11 hours get a free ice cream?" Unfortunately, the women in the booth hadn't heard of this regulation; they offered us a free drink, but we'd just gorged on water at the falls, and so we left empty-handed, but still rather satisfied. A bit over ten and a half hours after starting, we hopped aboard the shuttle and began the afternoon's relaxation. -Dave