Mount Whitney - Take Two (Inyo County, California)

I've never been one that deals overly well with personal failure and my inability to reach the summit of Mount Whitney two years ago has bothered me since that day two years ago. I don't regret my decision to turn back. I was suffering from altitude sickness after reaching about 12,500 feet and would have been risking my health to push on further. I made the right decision on that trip, but that doesn't mean I wasn't going to give it another go at some point in the future . . . and the future is now!

I along with several friends entered the Whitney lottery this year, but I was the only one to secure permits. This time though, I had put in for two nights in the Whitney Zone instead of just one, which would give me a bit more time to acclimate to the thin air and low pressure of the highest elevations of the formidable Sierra Nevada range.

After driving down US 395 from Reno to Whitney Portal, we had set up camp at a site we had reserved in the campground and spent a short night at 8,000 feet only to rise at 4:00 AM for my trip to the top. All along, my plan had been to simply hike from Whitney Portal to Trail Camp (where I spent most of my last trip suffering from 'hot-air balloon head') on the first day and camp there at 12,000 feet in preparation for my ascent on Sunday to Whitney's Summit. 

As my friends, Van and Bill, and I made our way up the dark trail, illuminated only by a nearly full moon, we observed a number of other hikers hitting the trail at a similarly early hour. After only a quarter of a mile or so, Van realized he had left his hiking pole (necessary for him to hold his tent up) at the jeep, and so had to turn back to get it. Bill and I found a rock and enjoyed the early morning air while we waited. In truth, I was feeling great. The cool morning air and though of the adventure at hand had me invigorated. Once Van returned, we took off again and I had a lot of spring in my step. I bounded over a couple of the creek crossings, hopping from one granite step stone to the next avoiding the water.

As the sun started to rise, I had gained several minutes on my companions and found myself some new friends amongst some deer, including two fawns, grazing in the early morning light. They were timid, but not truly afraid of me. I always love seeing wild life in their home, but I do my best to 'Leave No Trace' and not disturb them any more than absolutely necessary.

Continuing on towards the lower of the two camps along the trail, Outpost Camp, I take a few shots of Whitney and the setting moon over the meadow just before the campground. Great shots here of the high mountains above - which I would be on top of in the near future. Pushing on through Outpost Camp, I felt great and continued my quick pace another two or so miles up to Trial Camp, where we had planned to spend the night.

Arriving 15 minutes before Van and about 45 minutes ahead of Bill, I spent a few minutes talking to a Forest Ranger about the weather forecast, suitable camp sites, and just the great outdoors in general. The ranger did actually ask to see my permit, which I consider a good thing since I had one. If I have to go through the lottery process to secure one, its nice to know that others can't just ignore the rules. Once Van arrived, we looked over a couple of sites I had pre-scouted and selected some that would be suitable for our three tents.

Still feeling great, we started putting up our tents and as Bill finally arrived, we fixed a quick dinner. The ranger had mentioned to me that there was a very slight possibility of thunderstorm later this afternoon, with increasing chances over the next two days. I suggested to Van and Bill, that I wanted to try to summit today and even if we had to turn back, we would still have tomorrow to make another attempt. They agreed, but Bill decided to remain at camp and relax. 

Van and I packed our day-packs (essentially, the top section of our backpacks converted into much lighter fanny-packs) and started up the legendary 99 switchbacks leading to Trail Crest. The switchbacks are relentless and seem unending. Luckily, I was doing okay with the elevation at this point and we made pretty good time up to the crest. 

The view at the crest is spectacular - another of those to add to my list of the greatest on Earth. Looking West, one can see into Sequoia National Park with Hitchcock and Guitar Lakes below, and then on into forever. Looking East, the trail up, Trail Camp, and the great valley below are clearly visible. With only the slightest hint of gray clouds to the distant southwest, Van and I agree that now is the time to go for it.

We wave our way around the back side of the ridge and quickly reach the junction of the John Muir Trail. The going is slower and more treacherous beyond this point. The roughly carved trail, loose granite, and deathly steep drop-offs make for an adventure. Over the past little while, I have once again started to feel the effects of altitude sickness. I was having some difficulty catching my breath in this thin air and I was occasionally getting slightly dizzy and off-balance, but at 13,500' with only another thousand feet of elevation and a mile and half of trail to go, I was not going to stop this time. I pushed through the symptoms, but I did have to slow my pace considerably. Dizziness over such treacherous terrain was very dangerous and while summiting was very important to me, it wasn't worth dying for. Van understood my determination and cautiousness and stayed close by. Luckily, Van seems immune to the altitude here.

Slowly making our way past the 'fingers', which is my own name for the steep granite obelisks on the southern side of Whitney's summit, I had to put on my windbreaker. The wind gushing between these remarkable formations was cold and swift. The gusts of air added to the danger, but we pushed on.

Finally, reaching the last turn before the summit, I felt myself kick into another gear. And while I was dizzy, a bit nauseous, still struggling to catch my breath, being only a few hundred horizontal feet and a few dozen vertical feet from the top triggered something inside of me. Noticing my struggles, Van asked if I wanted to stop and rest for a minute. I responded "I'll rest at the top!". 

The next time I looked up, I saw the landmark I had been searching my horizon for, the Smithsonian Shelter, a stone hut constructed over a hundred years ago at the summit. I was here. I made it. As I explore around the summit a bit, I found multiple Geologic Survey caps marking the altitude and met a Korean family that had accompanied their 79 year old patriarch to this achievement. I want to be that man. He is an inspiration to us all and you can see the pride in his smile as he looks at his young grandsons.

I find what looks to be the single highest point and stand atop it. I pull out my phone to snap a picture of the world beyond, and notice I have a signal (I would have never expected that). I use it to do a Facebook check-in at the Mount Whitney Summit. I'm standing on the highest point the contiguous 48 states, the top of Mount Whitney, 14,508 feet above sea level. While I body is still struggling, my soul is screaming in triumph. I've conquered this mountain. It wasn't easy and I still have the trip down to consider, but for this moment, I'm on top of the world (at least this small part of it).

I sign the register at the top, adding some flair to my mark, and start the trek back to Trail Camp. The way down is not really any easier, as I'm still suffering from dizziness and unsure of my balance at times, but as we continue to descend, I begin feeling better and better. Eventually reaching our camp site, I raise my hands in victory as Bill smiles and congratulates me. With only another hour or two of daylight, we fix some dinner and I pour myself into my sleeping bag. While my head is feeling better, my knees are letting me know how hard they worked on all of those granite steps and scrambles. 

The night is cool, but pleasant. Though, I don't get a lot of sleep due to fellow summit-seekers rising early to reach the top. Unfortunately, they have as little consideration for the volume of their voices as many others have for caring for this pristine site and carrying their garbage out with them. It's a long night and though I stayed in my tent until after 7 AM, I didn't get a lot of good sleep.

When I finally get out to make some breakfast, I'm greeted by Van and Bill who have been up for a short time already. We discuss or plans for the day and while we have another night reserved if we want to use it, I suggest hiking out and heading home today. The extra day was only my insurance plan, but having accomplished what I came to accomplish, I was ready to go home. They agree. As I look back up to Whitney in the distance, I point my finger and defiance.

The hike out is uneventful, but through beautiful country. We stop at Outpost Camp to refill our water before making the final push to Whitney Portal and the jeep. All the while, we know that we have some cold beer waiting for us in the cooler. That thought is always a little bit of inspiration for those final steps. Popping the cooler open and finding it still has ice surrounding our beer brings a smile to all of our faces. With a trip of 22 miles round trip and about 6,500 feet of elevation gain on the way up and loss on the way down, it feels like good trip. I have redeemed my previous failure, and while I may never l climb this particular mountain again, I can know that I did it.