Wheeler Peak (Great Basin National Park, Nevada)

 

The primary reason for my trip to Great Basin National Park rises 13,065 feet above sea level. Wheeler Peak is a behemoth of a mountain, the tallest point in the Snake Range, and the second highest peak in within the borders of Nevada. It also boasts the twelfth spot on the most prominent peaks in the contiguous US list. Today, I will stand on the summit of this mountain.

Rising just before sunrise, I quickly make some breakfast and start breaking down my tent and campsite. One of my favorite treats on any form of camping trip is a serving of oatmeal and re-hydrated blueberries in the morning, and today is no different. It always gives me that much needed little boost to hit the trail.

The trailhead is a twelve-ish mile drive from my campsite, sits at about 10,000 feet, and accommodates a dozen or so cars. On the drive up, a flock of five wild turkeys cross in front me. I guess they are trying to get some breakfast as well. I arrive at the parking lot just before 7 AM and find only two other cars. I sling my pack on and hit the trail.

The first couple of miles are easy going. The well maintained trail passes through groves of quaking aspen and remains relatively flat. While that's a good sign, it's scares me a little, since I know I have nearly 3,000 more feet to gain and only a couple of miles to do it in. There are also deer here, and a lot of them. I discover one crossing the trail just ahead of me. The pretty doe is followed by two others and then two young fawns. They briefly stop to assess the danger I pose, before gracefully walking further into the woods.

Just a bit further, the the trail meets the Stella Lake trail and opens up into a beautiful meadow, complete with another group of deer. With the cirque of peaks formed by Jeff Davis and Wheeler Peaks as a backdrop, it makes for a stunning picture.

Finally, reaching the tree line, the trail conditions abruptly change from a mix of dirt and gravel to loose scree. The wind is blowing here as well, and I start to feel some exertion. I look ahead and see the second steepest ascent I have ever attempted. In my experience, only the cables on half dome were steeper, but they were only a couple of hundred yards, while this is going to be the better part of two miles.

I strengthen my resolve and set out up the challenging trail towards the top of the ridge and the summit beyond. In the distance, I can see a couple of other hikers a half-a-mile or so ahead (or above) me. It looks like slow going for them as well, but I they are pushing forward, just as I must. The loose stones twist and crunch under foot. The sound is a bit disturbing, but only adds to the ambiance of the overall experience.

A number of wind breaks have been piled up by past visitors to give some much needed cover from the howling winds. Today is probably calm by comparison to what this peak is like on some days, but they still provide a nice place to rest and offer the only escape from the sun in this nearly barren landscape. I take advantage of one to catch my breath and take note of elevation.

Returning to the ascent, I note my elevation is about 12,500'. Only a little bit more to go, but I can feel the first signs of altitude sickness coming. I experienced pretty badly a couple of years ago when ascending Mount Whitney, but I didn't let it stop me then and I won't let it stop me now. This mountain is not as tall and I'm almost to the top. I take measure and force myself up the last and steepest part of the trek. 

Finally, I reach the summit to find three fellow adventurers relaxing in more wind shelters. A forth joins us soon and we begin to discuss our love of the great outdoors. A park ranger (from Zion), a world-traveler, a couple on their way to San Francisco, and I discuss some of the trails and adventures we've had. We talk about the dangers to our "church" and how the country seems to be loving the wilderness to death. We consider what we can do to help, and take comfort in the fact that five like-minded adventurers would find themselves on the top of Nevada. It's an awesome sight and in awesome company. I know, from my own experiences, that most people that come to places like this understand the need to protect our wilderness, but it's reassuring to hear those thoughts vocalized and discussed.

Talking to these folks, I don't even notice how quickly the time passes and I suddenly realize that we've been lost in conversation for more than an hour. Knowing that I have a long drive ahead of me, I excuse myself and start to make my way down the mountain, but before I can, leave the young man with his lady, turns to me and thanks me and the others for being caring about what we all love. It was a moment that I won't soon forget. I thank him for being who he is and start the long descent.

It's slow going and my knees remind me of my age. I carefully navigate each step down the loose scree. I slip a couple of times, but I've always been pretty light on my feet and luckily catch myself before falling on my ass. I encounter a number of other hikers making their ascent and I can hear their exhaustion in their voices as we greet each other in passing. Past the steep section, the trail levels out and I soon find myself back at the trailhead. I check my distance to see that I've covered 8.6 miles and looking at the elevation profile, I understand why I'm so tired. Overall, it was a great hike and an even better experience.