Mt. Whitney Portal Store & Hostel Forums General Mt. Whitney Portal Store Message Board The Whitney Follies

The Coke machine item reminded me of a time I went backpacking with a group to the Ten Lakes area of Yosemite. It was just a weekend trip, but on the way back out a man opened his pack and pulled out a 6-pack of Coke, and offered to share. I did take one and it tasted great! He must have stashed the cans in a lake, because it was still cold. He carried something else too, I think it was a jar of jam.

Several years ago my wife was the leader of a group of girls who went on a week long backpacking trip into the Desolation Wilderness. After a long hot first day on the trail gaining a lot of altitude, one of the girls pulled out of her pack a box and yelled, "Anyone want to play Twister?" She had the game box complete with the spinner and Twister Mat.

The funniest thing I saw was last year on my early hike of the mountain. My fiance and I had driven to the portal to drop our gear off at the campsite and had driven back down to Lone Pine to grab a couple of bear canisters. While we were renting our canisters, a family (mom, dad, 4 kids, and 2 relatives) were in the store. Having just t-shirts and shorts on, the dad decided that he would rent every pair of hiking poles the store had and 1 bear canister for all the family. The major drama of the day was deciding if one of the kids could purchase a purple bandana to wear on the trail -- he wanted to "look cool" while he was hiking. The funny thing was they were intending on doing the hike in one day, but they still bought a bear canister. I never saw them again, but I have a feeling they didn't make it too far.

This is a great thread!
When we summited in 1996 there were a couple of sightings that remain in my brain. One was on the way between trail crest and the summit there was this teenager who was not hiking with anyone else, he had on shorts and a t-shirt with a towel wrapped around his shoulders, he was a dayhiker with no water or food. He was for sure the one on the trail you thought would not make it to the top, he did and was probably the happiest guy up there until he realized that he was only half way done :p .
While we were resting in trail camp after summiting a man clothed in a trench coat with long deshelved hair came shuffeling through camp on his way to the summit, trailing him was a 6 pound Maltese. Keeping in mind that everyone was already back at trail camp or on their way beyond to Portal, we were left wondering how he would pull off summiting at such a late time without any provisions, although we never knew what was hidden under that trench coat

It took me this long to remember my own contribution to Whitney Follydom! I have since summited 4 times, but my first trip to Whitney in 1998 was somewhat less than completely successful, at least for me. I had planned and organized the whole trip for 8 people, and made all my preparations with almost religious fervor. On the day before the start of our 3-day backpack, we drove the 500 miles from Phoenix to Whitney, and were in the process of unpacking when I discovered to my horror that I had left my freshly water-proofed boots in my Garage!

After some carefully chosen expletives, I realized I was going to have to buy a new pair of boots for the hike. Unfortunately I couldn't find any in my size, so I ended buying a pair in the Portal store that were a full size too small! I knew I was in for a tough hike, but what else was I to do? Hike with full pack in my pool sandals?

To make an already long story a little shorter, I had quarter-sized bleeding blisters on both heels by the time we reached Mirror Lake. I nursed them as best I could, but I wound up turning around a mile from the summit because the pain and unnatural gait had just worn me out.

I was the only one of the group that did not summit that year; from that day forward, when loading up for a trip I always check that my boots are in the car at least a half dozen times before I feel confident that I haven't forgotten them again!

Your boot story reminds me of a mistake I made. I unfortunately learned it at a trailhead 2.5 hours from the nearest town. I pulled my mountaineering boots out of the back window of the car (along with my wife's) to realize the soles had melted and they were now 3 sizes smaller. We ended up driving to Jackson Hole and plopping down $460 for new ones, since 16 miles in Tevas didn't sound like a very smart idea.

In July of 1983 after doing the East Face route with friends, I decided I'd just walk down the trail, while they took the MR back to our camp at UBS lake. We were to meet at the Portal. I had the keys to the car.

Just shortly after dark, on the switchbacks above trail camp, I caught up to three people who were moving very slowly. We got to a place where the snow melt had washed out the trail and I couldn't see a safe way around (my flashlight was good for following a good trail, but not climbing around that washout).

While looking for a way around we all got a little wet, or should I say "they got a little wet" (thank god for Gortex). All I could see of them was that they had hooded parkas on, or so I thought.

They had no extra food or water or shelter, and I (we) couldn't see a safe way down, so I suggested we wait for morning to see how to get down. I shared food, water, gortex parka, and emergency tube tent, and we used coiled climbing ropes (since I was taking the easy way down, I got to carry the ropes) as a sleeping pad.

After they spent a very cold night, the morning light showed that their hooded parkas were hooded sweatshirts.

All of their other equipment was in their tent at trail camp.

The biggest problem here, was that someone at trail camp had told them that it was only 2 hours to the top (from trail camp??). It seems to me that someone was bragging about how strong he was and nearly got three unsuspecting people into serious trouble.

Don,

I couldn't count the number of times I or someone within earshot has asked another person "how long does it take...". It seems like every time, the person I or they choose to ask is some snotty little twerp who gives an answer about half of a realistic time for a person in typical hiking shape. Are there that many hikers who are so narcissistic that they don't care if they get less experienced people in serious trouble?

I'd say if you need to ask (and you shouldn't if you're well prepared) then ask someone who looks mid-40's or older--they're more likely to give you a useful answer.

Here's a good one...

Returning from whitney, 500 feet from the entrance, I was feeling good and stopping for every ascending hiker. I stopped for two young guys who had what looked like a weeks worth of supplies tied to an external frame. Then I noticed one of them had two walking sticks that seemed to have recently been attached to a tree. When I gave a closer look, I noticed than he was holding something else in his hand besides the stick. He had a one gallon milk jug, full of water, in the crook of his thumb!

I said, "excuse me, but it rained last night, and there is plenty of water all the way up to the switchbacks" He said, "thats OK, I'll just carry this just in case".

I wonder how long his thumb held out?

My buddy and I stopped to take a break at Trail Crest, just after the sign. We met a group of about 5 guys also hanging around, taking a break.

Turns out they were all police officers (can't remember for which department) and this was their first time up, and they were doing it kind of as a challenge to each other and the guys back at the department who haired out.

One of the guys climbed out onto a rock that was only about 4 feet off the trail, but was kind of towards an exposed part of the trail, and asked his buddy to take a picture of him, but take it at an angle where it would make it look like he was hanging on the side of the mountain, about 1,000 feet above the ground.

I noticed his buddy was moving all over the place trying to get the right angle, and finally the guy on the rock asks him, "What's taking so long, I can't hold on to this rock forever?"

His buddy starts cracking up and says "I'm trying to get those two people under you picnicking out of the picture"

I stood up, and sure enough, there was a couple, right at the edge of the REAL drop off, sitting with their feet hanging off the edge, snacking and drinking and enjoying themselves - while this tough guy Rambo was trying to get his picture taken.

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing but the highest level of respect for police officers... But everybody who saw this, my buddy, myself, and all the other people in the area were laughing so hard, some of us almost fell off the mountain...

P.S. - And the guy on the rock thought it was pretty funny too, after about 5 minutes...

I'll tell one on myself, not Whitney-related by it happened not far away... my first introduction to the Sierra Nevada, and my first real backpacking trip, was with some buddies about 15 years ago out of the Mineral King valley in mid-October. We were young and just out of school, none of us had much experience or money for equipment, and we were living in San Diego, so we had no idea what weather we should be prepared for. I thought I was fully equipped for a couple days and nights of California camping at 7,000'+ with my military-issue jungle boots, blue jeans, T-shirt, and a cotton sweatshirt "just in case it got a little cool in the evening." That was it. At least I was wearing wool socks. Also stuffed into my rented external-frame were a light K-mart rectangular sleeping bag (you know, the kind with cheap no-name poly fill and flannel liner with pictures of ducks on it), a big single-burner propane canister stove of the type usually used for car camping or hunting, a K-mart dome tent with a fly about the size of a large dinner plate, a plastic military-issue quart canteen, and a bunch of packs of Ramen and macaroni and a few candy bars.

Of course we drove straight through from sea level in San Diego early one morning and hit the trail right away. One guy got a nosebleed within 15 minutes of leaving the trailhead and most of the rest of us had pounding headaches. To our credit, we made up the trail to our intended campsite and had a couple fairly enjoyable days of hiking once the headaches subsided, but I've never slept so cold in my life, before or since. I woke up several times each night shivering in my sweatshirt and duck bag. We were lucky the weather was benign or we would have been the hypothermia poster children.

I few years ago I was doing my annual hike up Whitney. I had camped at Trail Camp and got an early start the next morning. As I was ascending to Trail Crest, I noticed I hiker in front of me moving along at a healthy clip. I began pacing myself to him. As the sun rose, I noticed that he was decked out like a trailrunner, and I began to pat myself on the back for being able to keep abreast to those hearty atheletes. The humorous thing is that I am not an ego-driven hiker, much more the meanderer and vagabond. But there was something in the air that drove me to push myself and keep up with this flying angel in spandex.
During the final pull to the summit, he pulled away, leaving me laboring up with my diminished ego.
When I reached the summit I told him what great shape he was in and he humbily thank me. He then mentioned, after in-depth questioning on my part, that he had just WON the Badwater to Whitney footrace. After running that horror show he had continued up the trail and dusted me. My respect turned to awe and I found myself once again in my proper ego-orbit, somewhere on the far side of Uranus.

LOL, Martin, that reminds me of when i summited Whitney after 8 days on the High Sierra Trail. we had just come up the switchbacks and were at the junction with the main Whitney trail. we went over and stowed our packs with the pile of other packs at that shady spot just below Trail Crest. we were getting our snacks & water together for the last 2 miles up to the peak, and i was looking back at the Great Western Divide and feeling pretty darned proud of myself for having come all that way. when a father & daughter, obviously dayhikers, came around the bend from Trail Crest, i had that ridiculous feeling of superiority that we sometimes get - you know what i'm talking about.

the daughter stopped and looked at the pile of backpacks, then said, "whose backpacks are these?" i explained that these belonged to the backpackers who had come up the other way.

"what other way?" she asked. i explained that we, for example, had come over 70 miles and pointed out the Divide.

"Oh," she said, clearly unimpressed, and started walking again. my head deflated instantly and my hike to the summit was a much more humble experience.

I’m glad to see a couple posts from the ‘era’ of my earliest climbing trips. I was also a beginner in the seventies. I would like to vie for runner up for ‘Most Unprepared’ or maybe 'Most Humbled'. I had far too little experience and way too much ambition. Thanksgiving weekend, 1976, I had four days off and decided to try for Mt. Whitney. I had never even been to Whitney Portal before, but I’d already realized that the Trail would be ‘too easy’ and ‘not quite enough of a challenge’ for an up and coming ‘expert’ like myself. I decided to attempt the Mountaineers Route. My gear was laughably inadequate- even for a summer trip below timberline. The weather was cold, windy and unstable- in other words, typical for late November. With a nearly new ice axe in one hand and Roper’s Climber’s Guide in the other, I managed to struggle and fumble my way up the Ebersbacher Ledges. I was so exhausted after climbing up the ledges, that I decided to set up my yellow tube tent right next to the trail at the outlet of LBS Lake. That night, gusty cold winds proceeded to destroy the frozen brittle walls of my plastic tent. By morning, I didn’t even have a tent anymore. Just the nylon cord that once held it up stretching over the length of my ice-encrusted sleeping bag. That and dozens of bits of yellow plastic of all shapes and sizes scattered around my camp. I did do my very best to find and pick up every piece to carry them out. And out I went. The difficulties that I’d already encountered coupled with the (for me) intimidating view of the rest of the route was more than enough for me. I was definitely humbled.
-overduhhill

After a long day to the top up the MR and down the trail, we were eating a hamburger at the portal store. Expecting tales of bravery I was surprised at the comment of one of the 3 men in our group...a quite and conservative type. Nothing about the long trail, magnificent views, fatique and satisfaction of making it the first time...He sat there not really talking and then he said ...."there sure were a lot of beautiful women carrying backpacks up the trail." For all the women out there...you go girls!