6/29, Mt. Whitney
Aaron Doss
it amazing that someone came up with the idea to create the trail to
the top of Whitney. Drilling holes to blast trail out of a sheer
cliffs and moving rocks by hand at 14,000ft is no easy task. Mt
Whitney is the highest point in the lower 48 states, the highest point
including Alaska is mount Denali at 20k plus feet. Unlike Rainier in
Washington, Whitney is located in the dry Sierras, there are no
glaciers on Whitney so a trail is feasible.
We awoke at the extremely early (6am) planning to leave by 7am. The
tent had frost on it, the snow around the lake had solidified into
slippery sun cupped masses (I call these "ankle breakers"). We had
left our garbage bags exposed and those pesky marmots chewed into
them.
Marmots walk around real bold, like little bears, shoulders forward,
with a certain body stiffness that implies mass and strength.
However, they are as scared as mice.
The marmots encircle our camp, they know what is about to happen.
After we leave it will be a free for all, however, we left our extra
food in the Crabtree meadows bearboxes, these marmots would get
nothing from us.
6:30am
We pack light, and bring the basics; food, water, clothes, ice axe,
and sleeping bag. Nathalie and I leave first, it's cold, my feet are
barely warm enough, so I decide to push it hard and walk quickly to
warm up. It works but only for a short while. The trail zig-zags
into switchbacks on a near cliff. Zack, Squatch and Detour are about
500ft below us. We are moving at a good steady pace, limited only by
the rate which we can take in air. We do the first 2000 ft up to the
saddle very quickly, no problems with altitude. We cross a
particularly steep snowfield twice and worry a bit about Detour.
Detour doesn't have much snow experience, and was uncomfortable with
our previous snow crossings. This one is way worse.
Views of Guitar lake in the valley below and the huge ridges of Mt.
Hitchcock make us feel like tiny ants climbing a skyscraper.
10am
We crossed onto the knife ridge leading up to the summit. Still no
sign of Zack or Detour. Squatch was 20-30 minutes back.
10:30am
Summit! We let out a yell for Ray Echols, "No Way Ray!" there was no
return echo, the expansive canyons absorbed the sound, it's energy
becoming part of the landscape. We knew that Ray could hear us.
The top of Whitney is large and mostly flat. There is a hut, which is
full of snow, and a pile of rocks on the east side which makes up the
highpoint. Five or so, USGS survey markers decorate the rocks in this
area. Some rocks had scars where additional markers where obviously
stolen.
It felt good to make it up so early. There was only one person there
before us, we could enjoy the summit in the silence of nature, nothing
but the sound of wind and the occasional whistle of a marmot. That's
right, the summit of Whitney is home to a Marmot. I wonder, 'How does
a animal which eats plants survive where there are no plants?' This
Marmot has adapted to live entirely from hiker handouts.
11am
Squatch was the next in our group to come up. He set his pack down
and began to record footage for his next pct documentary. (see
www.walkpct.com) Our sleeping bags were still damp from the morning
so we decided to open them up and let them dry on top of the huge
rocks near the summit. Nathalie could not resist taking a nap.
Squatch laid out his bag as well, it wouldn't take long to dry up
here, The air was cool and dry but the sun was blazing hot.
Soon Zack came up, he was distraught. It turns out the he was waiting
behind for Detour, who was having problems crossing the snow fields.
Wanting to make it to the top Zack continued on as Detour rested at
the ridge trail junction.
1pm
The summit was crowded, lots of people came up from Whitney portal
trailhead (east side). Our bags were dry, so Nathalie and I packed
ours away. Clouds were developing and the wind was picking up speed,
loose pieces of gear started to drift across the smooth granite rocks.
Squatch's sleeping bag flapped in the wind, he was off filming, so I
placed his 2 liter water bag on top of it as a weight. We ate some
food and took the obligatory pictures on top of Whitney. I was
composing a photo of the view to the south when suddenly I heard a
scream/laughter/panic sound behind me. I spun around and saw Nathalie
pointing up into the air at Squatch's sleeping bag which was now
airborne about 20 feet in the air and rapidly sailing over the edge of
the summit. It drifted for what seemed like several seconds in the
turbulent air, then disappeared from sight over the edge of the 4000ft
cliff overlooking the town of Lone Pine. It was gone for sure, some
farmer in the valley way below is going to find sleeping bag in his
field. While I was thinking all of this, Zack was running toward the
summit ledge, following the sleeping bag. I followed, the bag was
still in sight, it was hanging from the last possible ledge before the
cliff fell thousands of feet to the valley floor. Zack got on his
hands and knees, reached down and just barely grabbed the bag before
another gust could take it away, unbelievable.
The last place to explore on the summit was the famous Mt Whitey
toilet, the highest toilet in the U.S. It could be better described
as a 32 gallon steel trashcan with a makeshift toilet seat on top.
The whole thing was balanced precariously on top of uneven rocks,
taking a crap up here would be an experience worthy of a gold medal in
gymnastics. The whole "toilet" is exposed except for a short stone
wall someone made to block the view from the summit. I was willing to
go and "leave my mark" on the summit but unfortunately had no "urge".
Zack, on the other hand, did have the urge and proceeded towards the
toilet.
Still no sign of Detour and it was getting late, so we decided to head
down. We assumed that he had turned around, bummer. We decend the
first, hundred feet and found Detour below the final snowpatch on the
way up. He had slipped and was feeling uncomfortable to proceed, he
was also upset that he had come this far only to be stopped here. I
felt his pain but told him not to proceed if he wasn't totally
comfortable on the snow. We all agreed that this was the best
decision, Detour reluctantly turned around and began the decent with
us.
On the way down we ran into Donna Saufley, she is hiking the John Muir
trail this year. It was great to run into her and say hi, exchange
trail rumors and reports. We wished her luck and continued down.
Detour had difficulty with the snow crossings on the way down. It
took a while to get down safely as a group so we decided to stay at
Guitar Lake again. Once down we talked to Detour about his
difficulties on snow, and about the much worse snow to come. He
already came to the conclusion that he should probably skip the
Sierras, at least while there is snow. His plan now is to leave the
Sierras (hike back to Cottonwood pass) hike in northern California,
then come back and hike the Sierras when there is no snow. The guy is
not a quitter..
The Marmots amazingly left everything alone. Squatch mentioned how he
hates reading trail journals that have the word 'yummy' in them, so to
humor him.. We ate a huge meal, it was yummy, we passed out.
Aaron