We walked up to find our cabin door wide open and a technician working on the heater. "I'm making sure this works. You guys should be good tonight, just leave it on full blast the entire time and you'll be warm enough." Snow ended up falling in near whiteout abundance that night. Periodically, when the pile grew too high you would hear the snow slide off the roof of the tent in a great "shhhhuufffff". It would wake me long enough to register before I slipped back under. We were in our sleeping bags with a stack of wool blankets on top; rocks don't sleep this well.
We rented a tent cabin in Half Dome Village, which I honestly didn't know was a possible accommodation until Luke mentioned it. "Be sure to get the heated one. It's $10 extra well spent." The tent community was tight-packed, in the evening the interior lights glowed like a fireplace and silhouettes danced on the walls as campers readied themselves for bed. You could hear your neighbors at all hours and when one of my boots fell off the shelf above the heater in the middle of the night, not only did it startle Luke and I awake, it woke up our neighbors too. "The fuck was that?" I heard outside. It donned on me that my boot was to blame, so my bear freak out alarm quickly diffused and I drifted off again admitting nothing.