We are home in Louisville. Flew in very early this morning. Doreen, my bride, the physical therapist, can probably tell me the names of all the muscles that are not working properly and are complaining to me about what I did to them on Wednesday.
We had six hikers, Doreen, my old buddy, the Lloydster, and 3 other guys from work, John , Jeff and Brett . All but Brett were in Lone Pine on Monday and we spent a few hours at the Whitney Portal Store (8,360 ft.)and did a short walk up the first few miles of the Whitney Trail. I think this helps in the adjustment to the thin air at altitude.
On Tuesday we got up early and drove to the trail head of the Cottonwood Lakes Trail. We stopped at a high point on the road, where we overlooked the now dry Owens Lake (all of its water goes to L.A.) in the Owens Valley and watched the sun rise over the Inyo Mountains at about 0630. We then drove the rest of the way to the trailhead (10,000 ft.) and walked for about 90 minutes. This was relatively easy, because the trail was level. As Lloyd says, "It seems to be following a contour line."
We met a guy named Claudio, who is Swiss and said he would be hiking the Whitney trail on Wednesday, the day of our hike. He is a self-employed engineer in the Silicon Valley and will become an American citizen in a few days. What a country! He is a great guy and was very happy about the entire deal. I saw him twice more on the mountain and had pleasant chats with him.
From our acclimatizing hikes, I learned who was fast and who was not. Jeff and John were, Lloyd, Doreen and I were not. Brett was an unknown, because he did not show up until late Tuesday afternoon. Brett is a thin, wiry guy and lives at 6,000 ft. on the Mt. Rose Highway between Reno and Incline Village, so I pegged him as a fast guy on the trail.
We split into 2 groups for starting times on Wednesday morning. Doreen, Lloyd and I would start at 1 AM and the others at 5 AM. I calculated that we should all arrive at the summit at about the same time.
The early folks met at 11:30 PM and drove to our favorite restaurant, The High Sierra Cafe, which is open 24hrs. We had pancakes and drove to the Portal. On with the Camelbaks, on with the headlamps, on with the adventure.
The full moon had been about a week before our hike, but the half moon was still bright enough to make the lights almost unnecessary...almost. We were slow, but steady, and arrived at Trail Camp, 12,000 ft., 6.3 miles, before the sunrise.
We had all been feeling strong and confident that we would reach the summit. I had a lower intestinal thing going on and had to use the new and improved Wag Bag, which we received with our permits. The solar outhouses at Trail Camp and Outpost Camp are being phased out. (For Snake, you no longer have to pick it up, you kind of open the bag , spread a large plastic sheet out on the ground, and, uh, let's just say a Norden Bomb Sight would have been useful. You then fold and tie up the plastic target area, put it in a baggie kind of thing included in the kit and whatever plastic bag you might have brought for the occasion and carry it for the rest of the day in your backpack. Chemicals in the target area are supposed to kill the odor. Yeah, right! I hid mine under a pile of rocks and picked it up on the way down. I guess Trail Camp always brings out the worst in me.)
At this point, Lloyd said he decided not to continue. I said I understood (I lied) and told him I would see him at the Portal Store for a burger and a beer, as I expected to return to the trailhead before the Whitney Portal Store closed at 7:30 P.M.. A few minutes later, I saw Claudio. Then Doreen and I made our way to the upper end of the little pond at Trail Camp and topped off our water supply. I had about 140 oz. and Doreen 120 oz.
We then began to climb the famous Switchbacks. They are called anything from the "96 Switchbacks" to the "99 Switchbacks". I guess it depends on your definition of a switchback. I decided I was going to settle the argument and count them. Doreen decided I was crazy.
Switchbacks are virtually unknown in Eastern hiking. In the East, they see a mountain and build a trail straight up the side. In the West, the trails are used by pack animals sometimes, so the trail builders are kind to animals and use switchbacks. This means you go back and forth across the face of the mountain, climbing ever upward until you reach the top.
Just to give you some numbers to illustrate what switchbacks do, the horizontal distance from Trail Camp at the bottom of the Switchbacks, to Trail Crest, at the top, is about a half mile on the map. Using the Switchbacks, you walk about 2.2 miles and gain 1,660 ft. of elevation. This makes for a boring walk. You just keep seeing the same stuff over and over, but it is more humane.
This is also the place where the high altitude and thin air begin to work on you. The rocky mountain face also provides hundreds of energy robbing challenges to step up on or wobble around on.
Most people seem to think the Switchbacks are the biggest challenge of this particular hike. I would not completely disagree, but it seems to be a personal thing. Some are more bothered by other sections.
As I climbed the Switchbacks I became less confident of my counting process. "Hmmm, let's see. Was that last one was 43 or 41." I decided that a switchback should be defined as a complete change of direction across the face, not just a little turn on the trail. When the uphill side changes from one side of you to the other, you have just experience a switchback.
Soon I heard someone calling my name from above. I looked up, saw a guy who I at first thought was John, but that could not have been. There was no way he could have gotten in front of us, if he started at 0500. Upon further review, I saw that it was the Lloydster and said, "How did you get up there?" Of course, he answered with a smile, "I walked." Apparently, he changed his mind and decided to continue. Sometimes that happens. He passed us while we were off the trail getting water.
The 3 of us arrived at Trail Crest, ate something, drank some water, took pictures and began the half mile descent down the west side of the ridge to the John Muir Trail. We gave up about 500 ft. of our hard earned altitude. I had counted 92 switchbacks. Something wasn't right. I suspected it was my oxygen deprived brain. Doreen thought I was nuts.
This side of the mountain was still in the morning shadows and I could best describe it by saying that the entire Whitney Trail provides thousands of opportunities to injure yourself, but this particular section provides hundreds of opportunities to kill yourself. One loss of balance, one little wobble at the wrong time and you will fall a long way before you hit something. This entire section is beautiful but deadly. For mortal humans, it requires extreme caution. You must pick your footing carefully and proceed slowly, unless you are part mountain goat. That is the incredible thing about it to me. We saw people who zoom through here as fast as I walk on a sidewalk.
From the JMT, we resumed the ascent. At the spot on the trail where the rock scramble to the top of Mt. Muir begins, we took another break and Lloyd said that he was really turning back at this point. Doreen and I said goodbye and pressed on to the summit. With brilliant hindsight, I thought that I should have given him the key to the car.
Despite having a slight respiratory ailment for the past week, Doreen was able to continue at a pace faster than my own. As I continued, I saw Claudio again. He was on his way down and wished me luck. I had about a mile to go.
Later I was talking to someone about my racing heart rate and heard a guy who was coming up fast behind me say, "Is it time to get the paddles out?" To my shock and surprise, it was Brett and he was referring to heart resuscitation paddles. I laughed and shook his hand. He zoomed on to the top and we had about a half mile remaining. Doreen was waiting for me and we walked the rest of the way to the summit together, arriving at noon. I was looking for the Starbucks, but it was not to be. At least they could have had a keg of beer for the celebration. Brett was already starting down.
Doreen seemed anxious to start down, so we signed the register and left the summit. Soon we saw John on his way up and a few minutes later Jeff. I might not be able to count, but I am a good judge of hiking speed.
On our last previous Whitney trip in 2002, Doreen had taken about 6 hours to descend from the summit to the trailhead. That is what I thought we could do on this trip. However, after about a mile and a half, I noticed that she was moving much slower than normal. I waited for her to catch up and asked if she was going slow intentionally. She said, "This is it. I'm spent." I immediately knew I would not be having burgers and beer at the Portal.
We had been talking about how she felt, with her respiratory problem, for the past several days. She seemed to be getting better and was very strong on the ascent. Everything looked good, but she used most of her energy getting to the summit. She felt she had nothing left. She drank all of her water and we had to share mine. I had plenty left and that was not a problem. There was a trickle of water at about switchback number 20 (or was that 18?) and we could top off there. The rangers say it is the purest water on the mountain. It comes from a melting snow field directly above the trail at that point. I had my trusty Pur filter pump with a brand new element.
Jeff and John caught up to us soon and I told them about our situation. They stayed close to us to keep us in sight. Doreen was feeling OK, she just didn't have the energy to move quickly and wanted to be careful on the treacherous, rocky section of the trail on the west side of the ridge.
As we started down the Switchbacks, it began to sleet and I began to count again. The sleet wasn't much of a problem, at this point. I would press on and then wait for Doreen at sections of the trail that I knew she would have to negotiate slowly. Counting is easier when your heart is not pounding at its maximum rate.
John said he would keep us in sight, but about halfway down, the sleet turned to rain and I wished I had told him to proceed to the bottom without us. I knew we would make it, it was just going to take a long time.
I refilled Doreen's Camelbak at the trickle, which was now more like a small stream, because of the warmer temperatures and we quickly resumed the descent. At Trail Camp, I had now counted 96 Swithchbacks, Doreen thought I was a hopeless nutbag and I saw Jeff and John standing in the rain with their raingear on. John said he had filtered some water for Doreen to save time and I thanked him, but told him I had already done that. I told those great guys I appreciated them waiting in the rain, but that we would be OK and to go to the trailhead and take Brett and Lloyd back to our hotel in Lone Pine.
The rain continued for a little longer and then we were able to remove our ponchos. We were now in a section of the trail we had climbed in darkness, but we were not feeling like taking pictures at this time. All we could think about was getting to our room. Just above Mirror Lake, I knew we would be returning to the trees and it would be darker. I decided to get our headlamps out of our backpacks while we could still see.
Soon it was dark and the moon had not yet risen. I have often said that the ascents are very challenging, but you cannot underestimate the difficulty of the descents. It is easier to fall going down the trail and it just kills your legs and feet. I believe the soreness you feel the day after a big hike is mostly caused by the descent.
I guess I have to cut this off somewhere, so let me just say, the feelings and thoughts I experienced during those last several hours are enough to make me never want to do anything like this again. I will also say, that I have felt them and thought them before and they have not stopped me from enthusiastically planning trip after trip since then. Doreen thinks I am crazy and so does Lloyd.
We arrived at the Portal and our car at 11 PM. Brett had left a note telling us that they had all gone to the hotel. Long day. If I burn 7 calories per minute while walking at sea level, how many calories do I burn while hiking in the High Sierra for 22 hours?
