Before hiking up Half Dome we drive up to Glacier Point for an overview of the pain to come.

We’ve been to Yosemite National Park plenty of times over the years, but somehow we’ve never hiked up iconic, valley-dominating Half Dome. When Karen’s sister says she wants to do the hike as well, the deal is sealed and we steer our Airstream straight for the park’s Upper Pines Campground near Curry Village, where we somehow manage to get a weekend campsite reservation and backcountry permits to climb Half Dome even on short notice. The three of us spend a cozy night carbo-loading, binging on Karen’s sister’s famous pre-hike brownies, sitting out the rain and hoping the weather improves before we have to hit the trail.

Karen and her sister take a break about 3/4 of the way up to Little Yosemite Valley with Nevada Falls in the background.

We decide to do the 16 mile round trip hike from Yosemite Valley to the top of 8,836 foot Half Dome in two hard-hiking days instead of one insane day by camping for one night in Little Yosemite Valley just below the dome. This means we’ve got to dust off our tent, which hasn’t seen much action since we got our Safari SE, and pack up our Mountainsmith backpacks which end up weighing about 40 pounds each.

Karen's hefty Mountainsmith backpack.

Luckily, it’s barely drizzling as we head out and we credit Karen’s sister’s Magic Poncho (a yellow monstrosity purchased hastily at the Curry Village Gift Shop when it looked like the rain was here to stay) for the improvement in the weather. For about four hours we head up a section of the John Muir Trail which climbs steadily and steeply before reaching the top of Nevada Falls, then onto the Little Yosemite Valley backcountry campground where we are relieved to discover that we still remember how to pitch a tent!

It’s damp and cold, but a group campfire and some tasty freeze-dried Mountain House camp food warm us up before we climb into our sleeping bags with one ear cocked for the aggressive female bear that the ranger warned us likes to roam the campground in search of improperly stored food.

To reach the summit of Half Dome you have to climb up a nearly vertical rock slope using these cables. Note the ant-sized people clinging to mountain.

The next morning is clear and sunny and we get fantastic views from the trail during the hike up to the base of the final climb to the top of Half Dome itself. The last 400 feet of the ascent require walking up a nearly vertical granite rock face using massive steel cables to help pull ourselves up—and to keep us from falling off. It’s not for the squeamish and a few hikers seem to be re-considering their need to get to the top.

These cables assist in climbing to the top of Half Dome over this 45 to 60 degree rockface that feels pretty vertical when you're on it.

We, however, haven’t climbed 5,000 feet up from the valley floor just to turn back at the summit so we head for the cables. When we reach the expansive top of Half Dome we’re happy to discover that all of our feet feel great thanks to our new point6 socks. The same can’t be said for our pecs and triceps, however, as this is one of a precious few hikes we can think of that works the upper body as well as the lower body thanks to all that hauling up the cables.

Eric on a ledge on top of Half Dome with Yosemite Valley over 4,000 feet below.

Then it’s back down Half Dome and back to our campsite in Little Yosemite Valley where we quickly break down camp, don our packs (why do they never seem any lighter even after you’ve devoured most of the food that was originally packed into them?) and continue another three hours very steeply down the brutal granite terrain of the Mist Trail.

Some sections of the so-called trail remind us of ancient Roman roads and the uneven, sole-beating conditions prove, yet again, that going downhill can sometimes be even harder than going uphill.

Then we get lost. Well, not really lost but poor signage at a cross roads sends us up the wrong trail for half a mile before we realize our mistake. This unplanned detour eats up precious time with sunset fast approaching on a trail that shouldn’t be navigated in the dark if you can help it. So, despite our fatigue, we hustle, spurred on by visions of the hot shower, homemade dinner and comfy beds we know are waiting for us back in our trusty Airstream. 

Our Safari SE with Half Dome in the bakground.

Our only Yosemite regret? We spot the 1928 Graeme Page car driven by Candelaria and Herman Zapp, two Argentinean road trip adventurers we’ve come to admire after reading their book Spark Your Dream. If you guys are reading this: hola!

We’re just going to say it: the giant redwoods are much more breathtaking and accessible in Sequoia National Park than they are Yosemite National Park, its much more well-known neighbor.

Yes, Mariposa Grove is lovely in Yosemite. However, the walk to General Sherman tree (the largest known tree in the world at almost 275 feet tall and more than 100 feet around) and on to the Congress Trail takes you past stands of massive trees with names like The Senate and The House, one after the other. The redwoods are so thick here that even though it’s raining as we walk, we stay reasonably dry just by moving from dry patch to dry patch under the umbrella-like cover of the dense forest. In fact, this Giant Grove area of the park is home to five of the top 10 biggest known sequoias in the world.

The General Sherman Tree is the largest in the world, as evidenced by a very tiny Karen in front of it.

You can even drive through a redwood in Sequoia National Park and even in our big truck we manage to squeeze through Tunnel Log (sadly, the Airstream is too big).

Our truck barely made it through the Tunnel Tree, buy there was no way the Airstream was making it.

For a different perspective on the park, we climb to the top of Moro Rock via a steep quarter mile staircase that ascends more than 300 feet up to the top of the granite monolith for views out over the western half of Sequoia National Park and the Great Western Divide which divides the watersheds of the Kaweah River to the west and the Kern River to the east.

As if that weren’t enough, we see five bears during a single day in Sequoia National Park, including a mother and cub which is something we’ve only seen once before. Not to mention the fact that Sequoia National Park has one of the best NP signs ever.

The outstanding entrance sign at Sequoia National Park.

Not that we’re ever going to stop going to Yosemite. In fact, we’re headed there next!

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Does the B in BF Goodrich stand for Badass? Because that’s how our truck looks with our brand new BF Goodrich All-Terrain T/A KO tires. We now feel like we can make it through no matter how bad the roads get in Central and South America during the next legs of our Trans-Americas Journey and we’ve got a ton more confidence on anything that’s rocky, mucky or slippery even with our Airstream in tow.

Faithful readers of this blog may recall a particularly embarrassing post a few weeks ago about a silly mistake that resulted in a pretty big hole in the window of our Safari SE. Well, hole no more! Thanks to the team at Airstream (thanks Jim) and the team at Sky River RV in Paso Robles, California (thanks Jana) we now have a new rock guard panel in place. It’s already a bit muddy, but that’s the way it should be.

At Sky River RV we also get the chance to walk through their huge inventory of Airstreams. They even have a SkyDeck—the big motor home/party mobile with the roof deck that has bench seats and umbrellas and everything—which we’ve never even seen before. It’s always so fun to see what’s inside other silver packages because it always makes us appreciate the smartest things about our model and covet smart things we see in other models. Anyone else completely in love with the Safari 23’ FB layout by the way??????

But it’s not all business. Paso Robles is a fantastic wine growing and wine making region and while we’re in town we discover a new label to love and confirm our love for an old favorite.

First, the newbie (to us, anyway): The Tolo Cellars tasting room is in a wonderfully restored 1880s farmhouse with exposed beams and the original (and working) old gas stove in the kitchen. Jennifer pours us tastes of their wonderful wines, descriptions of which are both clever and clear. For example, Tolo’s 2001 Asini is described as “Slap your well-hewn leather with a licorice rope! Bear with us: This wine evokes hints of licorice drops on a plate of rich cherry and blood red rose petals.” We describe it as delicious.

Even better? As we talk and sip it’s revealed that Jennifer lived and traveled in an Airstream full time for a few years. Cheers to that!

Our long-standing and all-time favorite winery in Paso Robles, however, remains Fratelli Perata Winery, where Carol and Gene and team farm 31 acres of vines and produce loudmouthed, personality filled wines (we have prized bottle of their Tre Sorelle red blend with us right now). Full disclosure: Karen’s dad helps bottle, top barrels, organize the wine library, build owl houses and do whatever else needs doing round the winery, but the wine was great even before he started pitching in!

Sadly, we are in Paso a few weeks too late for Fratelli Perata’s annual dinner for its growing number of devoted wine club members—an event that features food, food and more food all served with free flowing and perfectly paired Fratelli Perata wines. Have we made you thirsty? Good. But you’ll have to visit the winery or join the wine club to quench that thirst since it’s practically impossible to find a bottle of Fratelli Perata any other way.

It's a long way up to the Pinnacles up on the far ridge.

While in Paso we also carve out time for a visit to nearby Pinnacles National Monument which has some fantastic rock formations (hence the name) and a population of almost 20 endangered California condors. A ranger helps us spot three of the huge and, honestly, fairly ugly and menacing scavengers (picture a vulture, then double its size) perched in a tree on the hillside above the ranger station (click here to watch the birds in action via the park’s Condor Cam).

The odd rock formations called the Pinnacles.

Anxious to see some more of these huge birds, we head out on the five and a half mile Condor Valley/High Peaks Loop trail. It’s a blazing hot day and we literally drag ourselves up the first section to the highest point on the route which delivers us into the pinnacles themselves. Many of the smooth spires are used by rock climbers but the only climbing we do is on the trail as it negotiates its way over enormous rocks via a series of steep and narrow stairs which pass under low rock overhangs and up inclines so steep that the park put in hand rails (thanks for that, by the way).

Karen climbs along a stretch of very narrow trail that hugs the rock.

It’s a unique trail through even more unique terrain (there’s even a short tunnel through a huge rock), but we don’t see a single condor! If you’re in the area on November 1, however, you’re guaranteed to see condors. That’s the day Pinnacles National Monument officials will be letting the public observe the release of seven condor chicks—not as rare an event as it used to be but still something worth seeing for yourself.

Almost every time we check into a campground we’re asked the same question: how many children and how many pets? Which got us thinking….about getting a dog!

His name is Grady. He doesn’t bark. He doesn’t shed. He doesn’t drool (or have any other unpleasant bodily functions). He just sits quietly and adorably on the arm of the lounge in our Safari (which he’s color coordinated to match) and relaxes on our Astroturf front lawn right next to the flamingos which he never, ever chases.

Grady also loves to ride in the truck (which dog doesn’t?) and play in the great outdoors, so he’s the perfect pet for us.

Did we mention that Grady is stuffed?

Grady hanging out in the Airstream.

Grady trying to keep cool in the Black Rock Desert.

Grady enjoying Lake Shasta.

Grady visiting Canyonlands National Park.

It seems like we’ve got about a thousand modifications to make to our truck as we prepare to cross the border into Mexico this November and then begin the Central and South American legs of our Trans-Americas Journey.

We just knocked that number all the way down to 999, however, with the installation of a brand new hand-crafted Nicktane fuel filter installed by Ken Imler Diesel, the kind of legendary diesel engine guru that people drive for miles (we did) to visit so they can have their trucks worked on in his shop in Sacramento.

What our Nicktane filter does, essentially, is super-filter our fuel to ensure that any water or other gunk in it doesn’t reach the engine where it could do real damage. Don’t freak out. Dangerous fuel is not such a concern here in the US, but it’s something that could really derail us in Central and South America where dirty fuel is often the norm.

Now we’re heading slowly but sure to the border confident that our truck can deal with any fuel we throw at it. Whether we get through the 999 other things on our list is less assured…

Having our Nicktane Fuel Filter installed at Ken Imler Diesel in Sacramento.