Monday July 2nd. 11AM. Dana & I had just finished loading the car with our backpacking gear. We had a 4 ½ hour drive to Lone Pine and we needed to be there by 5PM to pick up our permit before the ranger station closed. After a stop or three for food and drinks, we arrived at the Interagency Visitors Center with 30 minutes to spare. Good thing, as we noticed they locked the entrance gate at 4:45. Anyway, the ranger that set us up was super helpful and gave us plenty of info regarding the trip and the areas through which we'd be traveling. She did mention that most people do it in 5 days, and was impressed we were tackling it in 4. At the time, I didn't know what she meant. To us, 50 miles in 5 days is crawling...4 days isn't that much faster.
After permits were squared away, we ventured out into Lone Pine for a carb-loading dinner. It was hot out, still in the 90s, and some dark clouds had formed just above the summit of Mt Whitney. By 6PM we were headed north to Independence and up into the 9200' high campground of Onion Valley. That would be our jump off point in the morning. Our route would start by going up and over Kearsarge pass, and after meeting up with the John Muir Trail we would head south for 3 days before finally heading East over Mt Whitney.
At 2 AM, something woke us up and we decided to go to the bathroom. Upon settling back into the cramped tent, I twisted my neck and shoulders in a weird way and a sharp pain shot down my back. I tried to move my neck left and right but couldn't. The pain was too intense. This had happened 1 other time, a year ago, and took over a week to subside. I laid there silent as my mind raced. Did I just ruin this entire trip? 6 weeks of training and planning, all over before we even started? No way. I tried to stay calm. I had a few muscles relaxers in the bear canister so I took them out and popped 2. I never slept, instead lying awake thinking about how devastated Dana would be if we couldn't do this hike. Around 5:30 AM we woke up and had to make a decision. As I saw it, we had 3 choices. Postpone the hike a day and try to find a doctor, completely scrap the hike, or start the hike and hope that things get better. Thinking about a 30lb+ pack on my shoulders for 50 miles added to the pit in my stomach. We ultimately decided that we would start the hike as planned, and if the pain got worse we had until the beginning of the second day to turn around. After the second day we'd have to go over 13,153' Forester Pass, and beyond that there was no turning back. It would be too difficult. We'd either have to finish out the hike or I'd have to leave aboard a gurney in a helicopter. Yeah, that's where my mind was going.
About 3 hours into the hike, before we had even made it over Kearsarge Pass, I felt what I thought was a grain of sand rubbing between my toes. Stopping on an uphill climb is tough as it's really painful to get going again, so we delayed as long as we could. When we finally pulled off the trail, I took off my shoe and found the largest blister I'd ever seen. We hadn't been hiking 3 hours! And, I've never gotten blisters in these boots before – or really in any boots for that matter. What was going on!?
We eventually made it over Kearsarge Pass, and the views were amazing. After getting lost for a bit, followed by a cross-country hike down a steep rocky slope to get back onto the trail (note to ourselves – never do that again), we arrived at Bullfrog Lake for lunch. Over the next few hours we headed south on the JMT and came across several PCT thru-hikers. A few mentioned there was a bear up ahead and shortly after that we came across a campsite that felt a bit spooky. We were tired and considered staying there, but another person we passed said that if we could make it another 2 miles, we'd come across another campsite with bear-boxes and a group of guys that had already set up camp. Safety in numbers was on Dana's mind, so we trudged on and around 6PM arrived at Center Basin Junction and set up camp above the creek that runs through it.
The next morning we had a big decision to make – keep going and hike over Forester Pass, or turn around and hike out the way we came. The pain in my neck and shoulder didn't get an worse. In a way, it got slightly better as I was now able to turn my head halfway to the left and to the right. We decided to push on beneath cloudy skies, up and over the pass. As we stopped for a quick breakfast, a hiker by the name of Mark turned the corner. We were immediately inspired. We hiked with him for a bit the previous day but he stopped for the night at a much lower camp, several miles below where we had stayed. We asked if he was ready for Forester, and he smiled and said "Slow and steady". Those words pretty much described the entire trip. Sierra miles are much longer and tougher than any other miles that you've trained on, as George and Beth had reminded us.
We made it to the top of Forester with a slow and steady pace. The cloudy skies ultimately saved us from lots of heat and sun exposure as we didn't make the pass until lunchtime. From there the rest of the day was downhill, and while the sun eventually came out, skies stayed dark to the West. We made it to Tyndall Creek nice and early and set up camp for the night. Less than an hour later Mark showed up! He made excellent time throughout the day having done several more miles than us, and ultimately decided to camp nearby for the night.
While we were down at the creek filtering water and washing up, it started to rain. Dana ran back to the tent to throw the fly (cover) on. I gathered up our gear and then headed into the tent. At one point it started hailing, which added to the excitement (and actually kept the tent from getting really wet).
The next morning we hung around camp drying clothes in the morning sun. Mark had left before we woke, and by 9AM we had packed up and headed out. We met 2 Marines on the other side of the creek who had spent the night on nearby Shepherds Pass. They were ultralight opting to not carry a tent or tarp and were forced to weather the hailstorm above 12,000', waking up this morning with their sleeping bags covered in ice. We would leap frog them throughout the day as we all headed to our destination of Guitar Lake. In our head, the day was easy since we weren't climbing over any passes. However, the trail repeatedly climbed higher and lower gaining and losing 500-1000 feet, ultimately leaving us exhausted by the time we got to Crabtree Meadow (2 miles from Guitar Lake).
We stopped for a bit before making the uphill trek to Guitar lake. We hadn't seen Mark all day, but when we got to the basin surrounding Guitar Lake, Mark's familiar blue shirt was just off in the distance. The Guitar Lake area is incredible, and the backside of Whitney towers above it. After setting up camp, we went for a swim in the lake. While the water at 11,460' is pretty cold (temps dropped into the 30s each night of our hike), Guitar Lake bakes in the afternoon sun and that warms the shallow portions. We ate dinner early and Mark walked over to chat. We were all crashing early in order to get a alpine start on our Whitney ascent. Dana and I decided on a 2AM start. We would forgo breakfast, eating only bars and electrolyte drinks/chews until we reached Trail Crest. It was our first morning view to the East since we started offering up an awesome sunrise view if we made it there in time. Mark was going to start at 4AM and then spend a night at Trail Camp taking his time descending Mt Whitney.
After a few hours of sleep, 2AM arrived and we packed up the tent and headed out. The lack of wind combined with our adrenaline, made it feel way warmer than the 32 degrees my thermometer read. The moon was full, and we barely needed headlamps once our eyes adjusted to the night sky. About halfway up we were passed by the 2 Marines. We'd later hang with them on the summit and find out they were stationed in San Diego. Shortly after sunrise, we arrived at Trail Crest just as the sun was illuminating the entire Eastern Sierra. We stopped for breakfast, and since we'd be passing through here on our way down we dropped all of our heavy gear, lightening our load to the summit.
When I first hiked Mt Whitney, Trail Crest (13,700') was the last place that I had felt "good". As I climbed higher I suffered from a nice amount of elevation sickness. But on this trip, after sleeping above 11,000 for several nights and acclimating on the previous 40 miles, we felt incredible. Not even a headache to complain of as we made our way to the summit.
The summit was picture perfect. Light winds. Clear skies. We couldn't ask for anything better. After signing the summit Register, we started down the 11 mile decent, and readied ourselves for "real life" that was waiting to greet us as we stepped off the trail. Work, appointments, errands, commitments, and so on. Ugh. Time to plan the next adventure.
Click here to view the photos from our trip
