I arrived the day before the hike up Mt. Whitney in the California Sierra Nevada mountains and promptly drove up to the campground at Whitney Portal where the Whitney Trail begins. I was hoping to acclimate to the higher altitude there---at least a little bit before the hike. The Portal is absolutely beautiful! It is in a setting like that you see in Yosemite National Park. There are massive, gray-granite walls towering hundreds of feet straight up on two sides of the campground. The huge pines are naturally well spaced giving the area a park-like setting. To the west end of the campground is a cascading waterfall a few hundred feet high and you are able to walk right up to the bottom of the fall and into the water if you'd like. But the water is snow melt so it is reeeeeeeeeally cold. There is a stocked pond full of trout where lucky anglers can catch their meal for the day and various streams bleed out of the surrounding mountainside, filling the pond and the main stream at the valley floor. It isn't a large campground but there is even the small, Whitney Portal store where you can buy supplies and have breakfast, lunch or supper.
In my motel room in Lone Pine that night I set two clocks for 2:30 a.m. but woke up around 1:00. So I got up and made breakfast. I brought along enough food to choke a horse but instead of having the usual oatmeal and toast I have before every one of my hikes, my stomach said soup and bread for some reason. I heated a can of Wolfgang Puck's chicken soup on my little, hiking stove and it went down really easily. I was afraid the stove would set off the fire alarm so I turned the bathroom fan on to draw out any trace of fumes. No problem but I was prepared to hide my stove and answer the door with messed hair and a confused look, to blame the room next door for any alarm. I was glad I didn't wake up any of the other people.
It's only thirteen miles up the road from Lone Pine to the Portal but it's a steep, winding road that my car could only negotiate in second gear in places. I kept watching for "red eyes" in my car's headlights in the woods ahead but didn't see any bears. (Don't know if it's true but when I was a kid I was told that the eyes of bears reflect a red color when the animal is caught in the headlights of a car) But I did see broken, car glass in the Portal parking lot where a bear, looking for food, broke into a parked car.
I arrived at the Whitney trail head around 3:00 a.m. With eyes as wide as saucers (still thinkin about the bears) I grabbed my gear and headed right out---and promptly lost the beginning of the trail! Because it was darker there and my eyes weren't adjusted to the moonlight yet, I had to search for the trail. It only took a minute to locate and it was off to the races.
The morning air was crisp and even though I didn't need two shirts I put on an extra one anyway. I bought some bug spray for my legs and exposed skin but never even heard a flying insect on any part of the trail. Talk about beautiful! I was one day behind a full, August moon (I planned it that way) and it was so bright most of the early morning, I didn't need the hiking head Lamp I brought with me. So I shut it off and hiked by the light of the moon. (Hiking head lamps are like flashlights you strap to your forehead while hiking so you have your hands free) Once-in-a-while I would turn it back on when crossing a stream that was flowing over the trail. There, you step on stones to keep your feet dry. I didn't want to slip on a slick rock and end my hike before it had just begun.
Think back for a minute. We've all gotten up in the middle of the night when the moon was full and taken a step outside. You'd be all alone in the quiet with that full moon overhead and it would seem like you were the only person on earth. Well, that's the way this seemed. None of the lights in the campground below were on, only the "big one" overhead and it seemed like I was the only person on the whole side of the mountain.
The higher you went the more beautiful the view, even though it was still moonlight. Off in the Owens Valley thousands of feet below, you saw the lights from Lone Pine but even more magical was watching the head lamps of two, other hikers making their way up the sinuous path I just hiked, hundreds of feet below. As they continued along the trail their head lamps would flicker, lending a firefly quality as they passed pine trees and branches on the trail. So quiet, so peaceful. The only sounds heard were the thundering waterfalls in the valley and the gurgling brooks crossing the trail. The smell of pine was in the air and when you passed a particular bush that happened to be blooming this time of year, even though you couldn't see the blooms you could smell the fragrance and you knew they were there.
Up, up the trail you went, winding back and forth on the switchbacks that were there to make your hike easier. To the east was the red-orange, morning sun just beginning to peak over the White-Inyo Mountains and to the west was the milky-white moon being chased from the sky. The ash-white granite of Mt. Whitney was now bathed in a red glow reminding me of the saying, "Pink sky in the morning, sailor take warning---pink sky at night, sailor's delight". Even though it was the mountain that was pink, it was my delight being up there to experience this fantastic scene. I looked down and noticed I had a very light shadow from two directions on the Whitney Trail!
Within a few miles I saw a sign pointing to Lone Pine Lake and not long after that felt the first sign of my reaction to the higher altitude. Some people get headaches from the higher altitude and some get upset stomachs, throwing up their food. I was so glad I never got an upset stomach. If any reaction to the altitude would have stopped me from reaching the summit, that would have been it.
My first reaction was dizziness. I realized quite soon that that was one of the ways my body was reacting to the high altitude. And the further I hiked, the dizzier I got. It didn't bother me that much but I had to make sure of where I was placing my feet while walking. Not long after that I started getting headaches, a very typical reaction for many people to the altitude. I could hear the thumping of my heart in the back of my head. The harder and faster I would hike, the harder the thumping would get. Maybe if I would have hummed a song like "I've Been Workin On The Railroad" the thumping and the tune would have picked up a rhythm. (I can still hear those railroad spikes being driven!) Oh well, it wasn't painful and I used that as a gage as of how fast and hard to hike. I was making good time and as I do when on a hike near home, seldom rested. I just didn't feel tired. (No wonder, with all the exercise I did in preparation of this hike)
The first stop for rest on the Whitney Trail was just before getting to Trail Camp one of the two areas where you are allowed to pitch a tent on the way up Mt. Whitney. I wanted to eat something before I got hungry because my body needs a lot of food for hard hikes. Before the hike I emptied most of the fuel out of my small, portable camping stove and weighed it. It came in at a combination of stove and fuel weight of one pound; acceptable for me to take along. I filled my water bottles with stream water adding iodine tablets and some Kool Aid to kill the medicine taste of the iodine. (Let's just say that Kool Aid mixed with iodine is nothing less than an "acquired taste")
The water flowing down the mountain was ice cold---of course it was, it was made up of melting snow. I sat next to the mountain stream among large groupings of Shooting Stars, a really pretty plant that has flowers that look like they are, well, shooting stars. The pedals of the flowers bend backwards giving them the appearance of shooting across the sky. After heating up and wolfing down Wolfgang Puck's chicken and rice soup and feeling renewed, it was off to the races again.
There are two locations along the hike where you can use a solar toilet. You are not allowed to urinate in the toilet nor throw any paper in the pits. This causes the toilets to stop working. So you urinate outside somewhere and haul your used paper with you in a plastic bag. (Which I do on all of my hikes anyway) At the bottom of the mountain at the Portal, when returning from the hike you find a "Poop" can. There you can deposit your used toilet paper after hauling it out with you. That sounds funny but in the future the Forest Service may require all hikers and backpackers to haul out all their own, solid waste from the area. It's under discussion right now. (Glad I got in under the deadline)
The solar toilets are nice because you don't have solid, human waste lying all along the trail. When full, the poop from the solar toilets is hauled out by helicopter! It's expensive but the only way to get rid of it and help preserve the environment. If it weren't for the helicopters, can you just imagine the head ranger telling the new hires--"Okay, you're on poop detail today. Your mission is to hike up to the camps, empty the latrines and carry all the dried poop down to the storage facilities here". (Ya right---kiss my lily, white butt. I think I'll go back to school)
From Trail Camp you come to the infamous "97 Switchbacks". Ugg, they are long and relentless. Yes, there are 97 of them winding back and forth up that portion of the hike. The Forest Service warned that you should start your hike early because between the hours of 10:00 a.m. and 3:00 p.m. there could have possibly been blasting going on along the mountainside to improve the trail along the switchbacks. You could have expected trail closures there for up to three hours during that August and September. I purposely started hiking early in the morning not only to miss the closures in that area but also the occasional, afternoon thunderstorms. You could see shovels and tools lying along the trail but I made it past before any work was started. I sure wouldn't have wanted to sit and wait for the trail to re-open to reach the top of Whitney.
You get a fantastic view of where you just came from, the higher you go. On a few switchbacks, water from melting snow from the mountainside above flows over the trail. But luckily it's only an inch or so deep so I didn't even get my feet wet. And at the end of the 97 switchbacks is Trail Crest which is the divide between the west and east Sierra's. When you reach this point in the hike you begin viewing the other side of the mountain into Sequoia National Park. It literally takes your breath away. It's like you can see forever, on and on.
Down in the valley below are mountain lakes (Timberline, Guitar and Hitchcock Lakes) that are the color of an azure-blue sky at the center, leading to a robins-egg blue toward shore and finally a turquoise blue edging the lake. (Sadly that range of color wasn't picked up on my photos) There is nearly all rock here, still too high in elevation to support plant or tree life or maybe it's because the soil has been washed away by all the melting snow. I don't know. Off in the distance are pines and forests all enclosed by a rim of mountains in Sequoia National Park. While over-looking these miles and miles of rugged, back-country beauty I envied the birds for their wings.
On the east side of the mountains because there is less moisture many of the mountainsides are barren. You can see rutted and time ravaged land where erosion and wind have taken their toll. Mainly in the valleys you see the forests and I wondered if there were any groves of Sequoia redwoods growing there but I was miles and miles away so I really couldn't tell. Besides, I think the groves are restricted to the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada. There, at Trail Crest I stopped to have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and to take a picture. It's hard to express the natural beauty this area has.
From Trail Crest the trail narrows, with foot-sized rocks lining the pathway. You have to take your time and carefully watch where you place your feet because this area has steep drop-offs. I wasn't very tired along this section and I passed a few people on the trail who looked like they were ready for the bone yard. (A personal "Yuk-Yuk-Yuk" because I was at least twice their age) I was also thankful there wasn't any wind. From there the summit of Mt. Whitney is only a couple miles ahead but it seems like four, from anticipation. You pass "the windows" huge holes in the mountain side that allow you to see down the mountain and along the area you just hiked. You are truly on the edge of the world with nothing but air on both sides of the path.
Knowing the mountains reputation of having afternoon showers, I didn't want to spend too much time there. As beautiful as it was, there were still 11 miles to go to reach the bottom. I signed the register that's by the stone hut to make it official that I made it all the way there. After I signed, another guy came behind me and signed his name. He wondered what the forest service did with all the signed sheets, saying they probably just threw them away. After a while I started thinking and returned to the register and looked for my signature. Sure enough, that sticky-fingered hiker behind me took his signed sheet as a souvenir, along with everyone else's signatures on that page. So I just signed my name to another page. Don't know how long it'll last up there.
There are also round, elevation markers on the top. They are maybe four inches across and look like they are made of brass. It seems hikers have wanted these for souvenirs too and even though they are cemented into the rock, you can see where people have dug them out and hauled them away. The Forest Service replaces them every now-and-then. I would have liked one but not bad enough to dig one out (too tired) or buy a reproduction from the store at the base of the mountain (too cheap). I did buy a long-sleeved T-shirt with the Whitney logo on it from the Portal store and will launder it gingerly for years to come as additional proof of the hike.
There is also "the highest latrine in the states" located further from the very top of the mountain. I didn't bother to investigate because mother nature wasn't calling. But there are rocks piled on one side for privacy and a stool to sit on when doing your business---real homey. Another rock pile not far from the hut is there, possibly for a wind break when needed.
While soaking in a panoramic 360 degrees I reminded myself that I was standing on the highest point in the lower 48 states. A gentle breeze was blowing and the sun was warming my back. Small birds were mingling between me and the rocks and it looked like they were very accustomed to seeing visitors that high in the Sierra's. I really enjoyed the views, trying to burn them into my brain for all time but decided not to linger too much longer because of the pretty, little, puffy, white clouds starting to form overhead. (Very wise decision)
Climbing down wasn't nearly as hard as going up but I still had to watch my footing closely because of the dizziness. I made sure of exactly where I was placing my feet. I was so dizzy it was like I had a few too many drinks! Making it past the sheer drop-offs along the ridge below the crest was a relief and after passing Trail Crest and entering the 97 switchbacks the hiking was quite a bit easier. It was then that I noticed the clouds starting to really gather and darken. Ugg. Back in Michigan when rain clouds form it usually takes quite a while to develop into thunder storms. Not on top of Whitney. Zip----bang! It started to sprinkle when I was about 2/3 rds of the way down the 97 switchbacks. So I started picking up the pace. The sprinkles got a little larger and it was starting to really cool off. So I stopped, put on my long-sleeved, wool shirt and found the disposable, rain poncho I bought years ago at K-Mart. Smartest investment I ever made. For 98 cents the plastic poncho covered my head, all of my torso below my butt, even my backpack and camera. The arms were not covered but I still was as comfortable as a bug-in-a-rug.
At that point I wasn't too concerned by the storm although I did worry about lightning. And just then a big thunder clap rang out-----CRACK-----I picked up the pace some more, pickin um up and slappin um down like there was no tomorrow. When I reached Trail Camp the wind really started to blow. Now I live in southern California and hardly ever see rain storms so maybe I over reacted a little to this one. Even though the rain where I was on the trail was never heavy, the wind was blowing it all sideways. Thankfully it was to my back most of the way.
Other hikers were coming down the mountain at a quick pace, some with ponchos and some without. Everything you read about Mt. Whitney warns about the afternoon showers and I think the people who were unprepared were really hoping for the best conditions during their hike and were thinking they would never get caught in a storm. There were a lot of later hikers caught on the top of the mountain when it started to rain. Don't know what those poor people did up there! I can't imagine being on top of that bare mountain in all that wind, hanging on to the rocks.
The wind and rain continued as I covered a couple miles, at least. At the lower elevations where the pathway was more protected from the storm I came upon other hikers making their way up the mountain. I stopped all the groups I saw, warning them about the conditions. Many of them listened to all the warnings I had to give then just continued on their way up! I couldn't believe it. It was like I was talking and nobody soaked anything in. I talked to group after group but every one of them continued. Finally I just gave up in frustration and thought that these people hiking up must have experience with all this and know that the storm would not last long and that the worst was probably over up there. All I know is that I was relieved to get out of that wind and rain.
My pace slowed down and I enjoyed the views I didn't see when hiking up in the early morning. I was now in my favorite place, the forest. I am not sure what kind of pine trees they have growing there, possibly Lodgepole pines, Jeffrey and Ponderosa. I should have asked. I was starting to get tired now and still had about four miles to go to reach my car. They were a long four miles.
When hiking the Whitney Trail you have to buy the $15 permit and carry it with you along the way. Sure enough, there was a ranger on the trail checking hikers for their permits. I showed him my permit and complimented him on the great job the Forest Service does up there. If I would have left my permit back home or in my motel room I could have been fined.
I stopped much more frequently now until I reached the home stretch. There the path isn't nearly as steep and you can really move out. I reached the bottom at 4:00 p.m.. The round trip took 13 hours which is a pretty good time. I think the average time is around 15 hours. But I got the extra, traveling boost from the storm forcing me to really move.
What a hike! What a day! What an experience it was to hike this and do it all in one day and not flip my cookies----even once! Only about half the people who attempt the hike actually make it to the top so I was feeling pretty proud of myself. All the training and fact-finding about the hike paid off. (Thanks to the Mt. Whitney Message Board on the Web) It's one experience I'll never forget. And now I am planning on hiking up Mt. Everest-------
If you'd like to send a comment or have a question on the hike please email me at
Jerry.cal@prodigy.net
