The hike-scramble to the top of Half Dome involves a 4,800 foot gain over 19 miles (I have to park one mile from the trailhead). Since the park service is doing trail construction work during the week and closing the trail, this Saturday the trail will be even more crowded than usual. I take the steep Mist Trail along the waterfalls, and though the falls are not as large as in May, I still get soaked and have to put on my raincoat. The steps are slippery, and I find that this early part of this hike is the toughest and pretty crowded. At the top of the falls, the trail levels off for awhile, there is a great view of Half Dome to the left and of snow capped mountains to the right, and we can catch our breath. The last part of the trail turns left and goes upward for a few miles. I hear a crash and notice that one hiker in a party has slipped and falled to the ground, but he gets up okay. One mountain climber going down the trail sees me carrying an umbrella to ward off the blinding sun, and he jokes, "Rock on!" We finally reach a ridge with beautiful views of snow capped granite mountains on both sides, and I see the cables going to the top of Half Dome in the near distance. I let out a shout of joy, since I am bored hiking for 4 1/2 hours non-stop and feel a burst of energy after viewing what I know will be a nice scramble to the top. The first half of this scramble involves a switchback up steps carved into the mountain for about 500 feet, but they are covered by loose rock and dirt and therefore slippery. Plus, they are crowded with people. At one point, I abandon them and climb about 30 feet up a 60 degree angle on good granite rock with a few holds, and one hiker encourages me to get back to the safer trail. One person slips and falls on the trail, but they are okay. At the first false summit, there is a level area where many people are resting either before or after the climb on the cables. The last 400 feet is a climb up a 45 degree granite face between two cables strung horizontally about three feet apart, strung along posts about five feet apart, with boards connecting the pairs of posts providing footholds. The rest of this rock face is smooth, so there are no other real footholds. There are many used gloves at the bottom of the cables, but I've done enough self-belayed rock climbing that my hands don't need them. There is a big traffic jam on the cables, as many people are summiting at the same time, so it is bumper to bumper to the top. Also, those who started the hike real early are trying to get down, but some people won't let them pass (some scared tourists are hanging onto both cables when going up), or some going down are impatient to get down. Therefore, those climbing down are climbing down on the OUTSIDE of the cables, which is more dangerous as they have only one cable to hang onto, there are no real footholds except for about six inches of the boards between the posts, and they have to move their hands around the hands of those climbing up the cables. I make room for them by using only one cable, freeing up space for an easy descent of those down-climbing. I notice that nearly everyone's eyes on this cable are filled with either fear or exhaustion. I encourage some people climbing down outside to get inside the two cables, telling them that there is plenty of room for two lanes of people, and some comply. I meet some young males climbing up on the outside of the cables, dressed in long dark pants and wearing wraparound sunglasses, and can tell that they are real mountain climbers. We joke about the traffic jam and when they learn that I am from flat-land they ask what I am doing here. I respond, "I love the West. People are in great shape!" One laughs and responds, "There's nothing else to do here. No good food." We make the top, and for the first time in five hours I sit down and take a break and try to eat an energy bar. Immediately, I am approached by two tourists, each of whom wants me to take his picture, since I am sitting right next to a steep dropoff with great views. I comply, but tell the third picture-taking tourist to buzz off. I now climb along the ledge a short distance, and finally walk off to the other, more deserted end of Half Dome. I then immediately get back in line to make the descent. At this point in the day, more people are going down than up, so we stay within the two cables, but have to keep making room for a line of people still coming up the cables. Descending, I am trapped between a scared male teenager in front, and a weak middle-aged male in back. Throughout the descent, the kid will rest and even sit down on the board in front, while I voluntarily give up the board in back to the tired guy (who sighs with gratitude). But this requires me to rely largely on upper body strength and hand strength absent of footholds, and I hang onto one cable, giving up the other cable to people coming up. Doing this for about 45 minutes on a 45 degree rock face is as tough as self-belayed rock climbing. I also find it easier to turn around and climb down with my stomach facing the rock face, and rappel down the rock face. Suddenly, two water bottles, one after the other slips out of a climber's hands, and we watch how they quickly fall down the rock face faster and faster with nothing to stop their fall, and envision how that could be a fallen hiker. The teenager jokes about not wanting to die, and I unsuccessfully seek to reassure him by saying, "I don't fear death. Only, paralysis." I also point out that I have never heard of anyone dying on this part of the trail, though a year ago one woman fell and broke a few bones. At one point where there are a number of people coming up clogging the route, I move outside of the cables and climb down and around them. Finally, near the end the cables are deserted, and I rappel down quickly. At the bottom, one woman resting expresses amazement that I haven't used gloves, but I explain that I do a lot of indoor rock climbing, and my hands are used to it. On the way down through the switchback scrambling section, one person starts a minor landslide of loose rocks onto my part of the trail, and he apologizes but I say that I'm glad it's not a body that has fallen. At the bottom of the scramble, we're now back on the hiking trail so the excitement is over. At the top of the waterfall, I skip the slippery and dangerous Mist trail and take the longer but more gentle elevation change John Muir trail. I encounter two foreign tourists and one mountain climber who have each started the hike two hours before me, so I have made up two hours on most hikers by not stopping for breaks. About one mile from the bottom of the trail, the mountain climber and I both start jogging, and jog to the trail end. I joke that I'm not competing with him, just glad to get away from the tourists. This hike/climb took me 10 hours, the minimum of the 10-12 hours estimated by the park service. As with the hike to El Capitan, I do stretching exercises at the end of the hike. The next day, I am not tired, sore, or anything; don't even have a blister.