Missing translation for header.skipToContent

Udvidet returret i julen – bestil senest 16 december, og få returret indtil 30 januar

Få 10% rabat på dit næste køb, tilmeld dig og bliv abonnent

Vær opmærksom på falske Haglöfs -hjemmesider og -reklamer. Læs mere nedenfor.

My first trip to Yosemite

Pro climber Matilda Söderlund looks back on her trip to one of the epicenters of climbing culture—an experience filled with adventure, community, and breathtaking nature.

By Matilda Söderlund

Yosemite is more than just a climbing destination—it’s the beating heart of climbing culture. Being there feels like stepping into a living museum where every granite wall holds stories of past legends and present-day crushers. My trip began in Tuolumne Meadows, where I ticked off Ron Kauk’s classic Peace. Sending that climb, surrounded by Tuolumne’s quiet granite domes, felt like a moment of pure serenity. But as summer began slipping into fall, the weather pushed us down into the valley, where the real magic—and challenges—awaited.

Life on the road adds its own flavor to a climbing trip. I was living out of a rented van, a mix of freedom and frustration. The freedom? I woke up every morning knowing the day was mine to chase dreams on granite. The frustration? Having to drive in and out of the park every day, navigating winding roads as the nights grew colder and darker. Still, van life had its charm—sharing parking lots with fellow climbers, swapping beta over camp stoves, and leaning into the simplicity of living with less.

The valley itself was electric. Climbers from all over the world gather here, from seasoned veterans to wide-eyed rookies. The energy is contagious. I reunited with old friends, made new ones, and found myself crossing paths with many whose names are etched in guidebooks. Yosemite feels like the center of the climbing universe, where every corner echoes with climbing history.

After warming up on a few smaller climbs around the park, I set my sights higher: projecting a route on El Capitan. Standing at the base of that behemoth is both thrilling and humbling. El Cap isn’t just a wall—it’s a rite of passage. The climbs demand precision, patience, and mental grit. I was in for a learning curve. Attempting moves that seemed impossible pushed me to dig deeper into my abilities. Every effort felt like progress, each attempt another step toward mastery.

This trip had an added bonus: a crew from Sweden joined in and served as my main partners throughout the trip. Their young energy brought a fresh perspective to the experience. They were psyched for everything—from the hardest pitches to the simplest joys, like spotting deer on the valley floor or sharing laughs over dinner. Traveling with them reminded me how climbing can build community and friendships for life. 

Beyond the climbing experience, Yosemite itself has left an imprint on me that will last forever. The towering granite walls, the misty waterfalls, the golden hues of fall fading into winter—it was overwhelming in the best way. Watching the light dance on Half Dome at sunset or hearing the flow of the river and many waterfalls, makes you feel small in the grandest sense, like a tiny part of something immense.

Yosemite demands a lot but gives back even more. I leave with lessons learned, gratitude overflowing, and dreams already forming for the next visit to this magical, historic valley.