The Highest Mountain in the Lower 48 states!
I first laid eyes on Mount Whitney during the summer of 2018 on the way to Death Valley National Park. At the time I was much more excited to reach Badwater Basin, the hottest and lowest place in North America.
However, as we drove out of Lone Pine, CA there was no denying the rugged beauty of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. I pulled over and snapped a picture of Mount Whitney lined up with highway 190. You could say this where it all began.
Where it all began!
We briefly met again during November of 2019. I spent the day exploring the famous Alabama Hills at the base of the Whitney Portal and even drove up the portal road to the trail head. Everything was covered with a thick blanket of snow. Something I didn’t plan to encounter on that trip. I didn’t stick around long but this is when I set my mind on reaching the summit.
As soon as I got home I ordered a guide book and began researching everything I needed to know about making it to the top. Quickly learning that you have to have a permit that can only be attained through a lottery system. I picked 15 days (the limit) throughout July, August and September. Mostly picking days around full moons but knowing those were the most popular I also picked a few random days during the week to help increase my odds.
Mount Whitney Portal during Winter.
After anxiously waiting a few months for the results I finally received a email from the park system…I was hesitant to open the attachment but could hardly contain my excitement when I saw, “Congratulations” and knew I was successful, 8/11/2020 would be the summit day.
Stoked but also nervous due to Covid-19 being in full swing and the state of California imposing strict lockdowns, effectively shutting down the parks and forest. I kept a close eye on the status of Inyo National Forest and remained hopefully that by August they would resume issuing permits.
It started to feel real when I received the actual permit a couple of weeks before the big day. Soon after I was on a plane headed to Las Vegas. I wanted to give myself plenty of time to acclimate to the altitude so I spent a couple of days exploring Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks before making my way to Lone Pine
Once at Lone Pine, I drove up to the White Mountains on the east side of the valley which are surprisingly tall, the road itself hits 11,000 feet at one point. Exactly what I was looking for in order to acclimate. The following day I hiked to Treasure Lakes outside of Bishop, to test my gear and get mentally prepared for the challenge ahead.
Treasure Lakes, Bishop California.
I got a hotel in Lone Pine, got all my things packed, and tried to get as much sleep as possible before hitting the trail. Ended up dozing off for a few hours but I was out of the hotel and on the road by 12:10 AM, the half moon shined brightly and would soon help guide me up the mountain.
What am I getting myself into…
There were hardly any signs of life at the trailhead, the parking area was mostly full but only a couple of headlamps shined through the darkness. I parked a few spots down from a pair of hikers who were getting ready at the back of their truck. One of them headed off towards the bathroom and a few moments later the other started cursing and screaming in one long primal burst.
I hesitantly walked over.. “Is everything alright?…”
“SHIT BRO!! A bear was dragging off my buddies pack!”
At first I didn’t quite believe him, maybe he was sleep deprived like myself and just thought he saw a bear. Moments later he threw the bag down on the ground.
“Fucking see!?!”
Sure enough, the top of the back pack had a gnarly tear and was covered with a slimy bear slobber. When his friend returned he responded causally, “man all our climbing ropes are in that bag, we would have had to chase that bear down!”
As I walked back to the car, I was no doubt terrified. I decided it would be best to clear out the car of all food/drink items. Sadly tossing away the couple of beers I saved for the finish.
I briefly debated waiting till sunrise to begin the journey but there was still another 6 or 7 hours before day break so it didn’t take long to say, fuck it and get on my way.
Start time 12:45 AM
The two crazy bear guys stayed in sight for the first few minutes of the hike, which was reassuring but they quickly turned off and headed up the mountaineers route. Now there really was no signs of life in any direction. What was left of the moon was shinning brightly and Mars was easily spotted dazzling above. Occasionally, I would turn off my head lamp and briefly gaze up at the cosmos. This helped to remind me despite the fear, I was lucky to be here.
This was my first experience hiking through the night but it didn’t take me long to get in rhythm. One foot in front of the other, every so often checking my rear to make sure a mountain lion or bear wasn’t coming up behind.
The miles passed pretty quickly and before too long the trail left the forest and the valley opened up on all sides surrounded by huge granite slabs glistening in the moon light.
Looking down into Big Horn Park on the return trip.
Things got more rocky, but I was glad to be out of the tree line. High up on the ridge line, a few headlamps could be seen slowing moving up the famous 99 switchbacks. I picked up my pace due to and increased level of excitement.
Wasn’t too long before I had made my way passed Trail Camp, where a few tents lit up the landscape. Then it was my turn to make my way up the switchbacks. By this time the sun had begin to peak over the White Mountains. A welcome sight after walking hours through the darkness.
Surprisingly I enjoyed the dreaded switchbacks as is provided me an opportunity to see how far I had already came. The Trail Crest snuck up on me and what an incredible surprise it was reach during the sunrise. From here, I could finally see the other side of the ridge. Jagged spires, peaks and valleys spread as far as the eye could see.
Trail Crest, finally able to see over the ridge
The trail skirted the edge around the spires and Jon Muir Point and continued approaching the west slope of Mount Whitney. This would end up being my favorite section of the entire trail, the Sierra Nevada’s were just undeniable beautiful.
Am I there yet?
I began to feel the effects of altitude for the last half of a mile, frequently having to stop and catch my breath but steadily moving forward. When I finally laid eyes on the summit hut (a small rock hut built by the geographical society in 1910) I felt a rush of emotion and couldn’t help but smile.
Mount Whitney Summit: 8:04 AM
There were a few others at the summit when I finally reached the summit marker, a few yards passed the hut. We all happily took turns taking each others pictures and soaking up the scenery. One fellow hiker, glanced down my Nikon and proceeded to hand me a timeless looking, film camera to take his picture. I have never used a film camera, could barely figure out how to focus it but I hope it turned out ok.
Smiles from the summit of Mount Whitney!
My biggest surprise about the summit was the size, from the East it looks like it would be a knife-edge ridge, all the way across. However, when you get to the top its actually quite expansive area but still has a very steep drop off from the east.
The fighter jets even rumbled passed on one occasion. I couldn’t actually spot one flying but there was no doubt they were close and moving fast!! It felt like the entire mountain was rumbling away.
The summit is only halfway!
Knowing I still had 11+ miles to go I decided to start making my way back down. Ended up walking back to the trail crest with Forest, the film camera guy. He had a buddy waiting there, they had spent the previous seven days hiking the Sierra High Route. Hearing about their journey not only helped pass the time but inspired me to soon take on a thru-hike myself.
Brief section of cables on the 99 switchbacks, notice how they have been bent from rock slides.
Going down a whole new experience, the sun was out and I could see just how far I had come. I made plenty of stop to take photos to make up for not taking any on the way up.
The best part about coming down was being able to encourage all the hikers on their way to the summit. I lost track of how many times I was asked “how much further to the crest?” and “how much further to the switchbacks?” It is always incredibly rewarding seeing so many different people from all walks of life struggle towards the same common goal.
Once I was back into the tree line the miles began to pass a little slower. All the other hikers had passed and the trail seemed like it would never end. My feet and knees were aching by this point, having trekking poles really was a life saver. I think I still might be on the mountain without them.
The moon that guided me through the night could still be seen on the decent.
I debating detouring to Lone Pine Lake, but decided food and beer sounded better so I continued the last couple of miles to the trail head. I passed one last couple right before the trail head. They asked about the summit and seemed alarmed that I had started at 12:45 AM, grinning as I turned towards away. If they only knew about the bear…
Overall,
Mount Whitney was an out of the this world experience. Although there are plenty of other 14,000+ foot summits in the continuous US, that are much shorter than 22 miles and don’t require a permit. For me though, something drew me to Mount Whitney from the very first time we had met on that. Maybe it was the height, maybe it was the ruggedness but one thing was certain, I was officially hooked on bagging peaks.
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