One of many
trip reports under the
SilGro home page for Alan Silverstein and Cathie
Grow.
Email me at
ajs@frii.com.
Last update: March 26, 2024
(Previous trip report: 1987_0812-14_WhiteMountain.htm)
(A
Fourteener
trip report.)
After White Mountain Peak the previous day, next up was Mount Whitney, the highest summit in the contiguous 48 states. It was not just another mountain -- it was an adventure! What an incredible, long journey from the trailhead to the summit (which was reflected in the length of this report!) The peak was reputed to be the most climbed in North America, perhaps the world. This was especially astounding considering the effort required.
Saturday, August 15: Early this morning I awoke at the NFS campground between Big Pine and Lone Pine after a decent night's sleep. I was still tired from the previous day's climb, but regardless I drove into Lone Pine at 0540 and looked for the NFS office. It wasn't hard to find, even before sunrise -- there was a line of about 30 people waiting, including a few who had camped on the lawn (nevermind the sprinklers...)
I had no expectation of getting a camping permit since the reservation season ended May 31. Still as long as I was there early I figured I'd check in. I planned on messing around town, sleeping in the afternoon, and starting up the mountain around midnight for a "day hike" only.
The office opened at 0600. We in line watched an awe-inspiring pink sunrise a few minutes later on Mount Whitney and the nearer peaks towering 10000' above us, just 12 miles distant. When my turn came in the office -- lo and behold, they not only had permits available due to cancellations -- I had a choice of routes! "Any chance you have a camping permit on Whitney for tonight?" "Sure, how many in your party?"
I jumped at the chance to break the "death march" into two half death marches. I settled for a permit for the easiest route, the class 1 Mount Whitney Trail. The permit allowed camping anywhere not restricted, which was only a 2-mile section along the 11-mile trail. It was good for camping on the summit too!
Now at first stopping at Trail Camp six miles up the route seemed like the obvious right idea. But it occurred to me that I might just go all the way to the top for the night. I'd certainly never have a better opportunity to do so!
Still there wasn't any hurry. I had a good hot breakfast in town, did some shopping, and took my time. Since I didn't have a backpack with me, only a large daypack, I bought a rucksack to hang on the back of it so I could carry more gear.
A backpacker hitched a ride with me in my rental car up the steep paved road 12.5 miles west of Lone Pine to Whitney Portal, the famous trailhead, at 0950. The Portal was a lovely glade deep in a glacial cut under tall shade trees with lots of parking areas, a campground, and even a small store. Two creeks ran right through it.
(The Sierras were a huge tilted block. The west side was rather gradual, but the east slope was precipitous down to the Owens Valley. There were innumerable deep glacier-cut gorges like this one.)
I had to wait a while for a parking space to open up... Then I spent lots more time getting packed. I tied a tarp, air mattress, rucksack, pillow, and sleeping bag onto my daypack. I carried three quarts of water. At 1210 I took a fateful deep breath and the first step up the trail past various signs and announcements.
Right away I started to pace myself slowly -- insisting to myself there was no rush. As it turned out I should have left the trailhead, 8365', a couple of hours sooner! Although it was "only" 6200' vertical to the summit, the trail was annoyingly flat. It took me a net 10 hours to reach the top without hurrying.
I had a good attitude and was well prepared physically and mentally, or I might not have made the peak at all, certainly not in one day. I passed many groups who were really struggling.
Ah, the trail! For such a famous and over-used path it was in good condition, reasonably wide, a pleasure to hike. There were far too many switchbacks, but as a result of the gentle grade it was covered with soft, gritty quartz monzonite gravel most of the way.
It took a long time to work up a broad glacial wall under trees and past heavy, fragrant bushes to Lone Pine Lake, 9940'. This was the first of several beautiful glacial lakes hanging above steps in the deep gorge. I reached it at 1410 and noted dismally I'd taken two hours to climb the first 1600'.
I continued on after meeting a ranger (who checked my permit) and taking a break. I came upon Mirror Lake, 10640', at 1515 (3:05 for 2275' to this point). Like most of the lakes I saw in the Sierras, it was a deep emerald green color, rather than the Colorado blue I was used to. It was surrounded by timberline pines, including many I recognized as bristlecones.
The trail climbed from here over rocks, the most eroded part of the route. I passed Trailside Meadow ("no camping here") and stopped at an overlook point, 11860', to see Consultation Lake. The rest of the way was rock and tundra, and this deep blue lake was quite inspiring below steep snow. From here and beyond we could see the rugged east face of the Mount Whitney massif, complex brown and tan cliffs topped with spires.
I met a fellow from California named Steve Patterson who was also climbing alone on a reissued permit. We joined up until after dark that evening. He was quite an interesting character, and it was good to have someone to talk with after passing Trail Camp at about 12000'. Most of those who made it that far stopped there for the night.
Soon we had the trail largely to ourselves. We began the infamous 97-switchback ascent west out of a huge bowl to Trail Crest about 1600' above. The trail wound up steep shield rock next to a broad gully full of rotten rock and dirt. For the first of several times, I filled one water bottle with clean snow. It was essential, for I used about six quarts on the round trip. [Apparently this was before I discovered water filters or purification tablets!]
Near the top I pushed ahead to reach Trail Crest, 13580', just 14 minutes before sunset at 1936. What a place to watch it go down! This point was on the crest of the Sierras with a view to infinity both east and west. Sub-peaks of Whitney loomed north. Wildflowers grew on the rocks. The weather was as it continued the whole weekend, marvelously clear, and warmer and calmer than it had been on Friday.
Steve arrived and after a break we continued north on the last leg towards Mount Whitney. I put on my headlamp and he prepared a flashlight. For a while we could follow the trail down by fading daylight to its junction with the John Muir Trail, 200' lower. Here we found a fork and a sign, and started up the last two miles along the ridge to the summit.
At 2030 Steve elected to stop for the night in a nice rock-ringed flat spot. Still feeling surprisingly strong, I left him in the dark and rounded the mass of Mount Muir, 14012'. Half an hour later, feeling alive, free, wild, and hungry to maximize my record one-day vertical gain (grin), I left my pack (yikes!) and started up Muir with a headlamp and extra batteries. It was cool but not cold; calm, and the night sky was crisp with a million stars. The Milky Way arced across the zenith.
Unfortunately the new 7.5-minute USGS topo maps [at that time] were metric and their contour interval was 20 meters (about 60'), compared to the 40' I was used to. Hence they were not as detailed as I would have liked. Combined with it being dark, I found myself on the sharp ridgetop a ways north of the mass I was pretty sure was Muir. I had to descend about a hundred feet (by headlamp of course) to get south past a scarp. I went up beyond it, south some more, and had to repeat the operation. Finally I found myself at the base of a rocky pinnacle, certain it was the right one (it was), but with no clearly safe way visible to the top.
Muir was reputed to be "an easy class 3 scramble". Well not in the dark! I gave it up, dropped down to the trail, and retraced 1/4 mile north to my pack. I had wasted an hour and climbed about 400' extra. At 2205 I resumed heading for the summit.
Stars! Silence... Milky Way... Distant lights of Lone Pine from the narrow rock bridges across the "windows", sharp saddles in the ridge. The trail went on forever, sometimes hard to follow. It was tempting to stop for the night, but with the goal so near, I pushed on. The peak rounded off slowly. Finally at 2308 (after 10:58) I staggered up the summit boulders of Mount Whitney -- unfortunately waking a nearby camper.
I spread my stuff on the slight slope of a boulder, just below the tip-top, one of many huge white rocks 20' from the sheer east face. It was one of six rocks with bronze survey markers. (It appeared that everyone who was anyone in the geography business did a survey of Whitney sooner or later!)
Fortunately it was dead calm while I cooked a hot meal over sterno (as quietly as possible) and watched a crescent moon rise at 2330. I went to bed at midnight a little chilled.
Sunday, August 16: At 0530 this morning I awoke (short on sleep and oxygen) to watch the sunrise. Various people gathered, only about five in all, including Steve who'd resumed his march at 0300. I stayed warm in the sleeping bag from where I could see the eastern horizon. It was 30 deg F and still calm.
Coincidentally it was the dawning of what some believers called the New Age, the Harmonic Convergence. None of the people on top were there for that occasion -- Whitney was not a "power center" I guess! Nonetheless the sunrise was a scene of some power and majesty.
Sunup: 0604... In and out of the bag to take pictures. Shadow of the mountain pointing to infinity... Golden light on sheer faces.
I caught another half hour of sleep and then began my day. I explored around the summit and visited the least-private pit toilet I'd ever seen. Meanwhile all the other overnighters departed and dayhikers began to arrive.
There was a metal plaque from 1930 commemorating the building of the first trail; a rock shelter cabin; and a large register box. All the Sierra Fourteeners were visible, though hard to identify. White Mountain Peak was clear, 73 miles northeast, and Telescope Peak, 11049', was the same distance southeast.
At 1100 I left about 30 people on top and started back down and south. I really took it slow! Filled water bottles again at an old snowfield on the north side... Dropped my pack three times before Trail Crest. The first two times were 20-minute round-trip runs up two prominent spikes: Keeler Needle, 14239+', and Crooks Needle (aka Day Needle), 14173+'. They were quite nervous little summits! But easy scrambling east from the trail.
Beyond Mount Muir I found myself again having to descend around a scarp face, this time back north, to reach the pinnacle proper. I studied it again, now in broad daylight, and explored a couple of routes. Then I decided to show some maturity and skip it... Too ugly, too steep. It was crack, face, and ledge climbing with much exposure for the last 100'.
I didn't meet anyone along the way who was out to climb all the California Fourteeners -- all 12 of them. Now I know why! Unlike the 54 in Colorado, some of those in California required significant technical expertise to climb safely. But I did meet a surprising number of folks who had already been on the trail 1-2 weeks, across the Sierras or from Onion Valley 50 miles north.
Back at Trail Crest, 1325-1355, I cooked a hot lunch. Then I got adventurous and left the trail to descend the old route down the glacial trash in the gully. It really didn't save much time or effort, though it was steep and direct, because it wasn't as soft and consistent as I'd hoped. There was a fair bit of human trash there too. I went around some high snowfields (dirty and icy) and across some lower ones (ahh...) Then I found the old trail back to the new one, which made moraine-crossing much easier.
At 1625 I took a long foot and tee-shirt soak break at Mirror Lake. At this point I was still having fun, plus taking [film] pictures I'd skipped on the way up. But I would have been happy to be done then and there! Not so... Another four miles and 2200' downhill lay ahead. I plodded off the trail and back to my car at 1849, nearly eight hours after leaving the summit.
All in all I figure I climbed about 6730' the first day and 600' the second day: 10:58 to the summit, 11:52 on top, and 7:49 down. Fifteen minutes after reaching Whitney Portal I was coasting in the rental car back to Lone Pine. I hoped to find a motel, take a shower, and have a big, hot dinner. I settled for the first two out of three and collapsed. Zonk!
Monday, August 17: The next morning at 0600 I walked a short way from the motel to watch, and this time photograph, another awesome sunrise on Mount Whitney.
[2024 from memory: Translating this old report, along with many others, to HTML, I'm surprised I stopped there with no mention of the rest of the trip home. I had to drive back to Las Vegas, turn in the rental car, and catch an airplane back to Colorado. My recollection is that in order to save some money I took a redeye (overnight) flight, and I remember nearly falling asleep at the wheel a few times heading north on I-25.]
(Next trip report: 1987_0829-30_MountMassive.htm)