Mt. Whitney

September 2, 2010

Barrett's alarm went off at 3 pm, and we awoke from our shallow sleep. We slowly packed up camp and made our way to the Whitney Portal trail head. As we pulled up, we saw what seemed to be a thousand hikers all gathered, all ready to start the same adventure we were - a hike up to the top of Mt. Whitney, the tallest point in the continental US.

Our group of eight started up the trail at 4 am. We hiked in the dark with head lamps, and I conveniently found every rock in the path, which saved Josh, who was hiking right behind me, from having to watch to carefully where he stepped. He just had to avoid where I stepped.

When the sun came up, we were greeted with spectacular views.

Note the shiny, green water bottle hitching a ride to the top.

We continued hiking up.


The glow of the new light against the rocks was spectacular.


Just before the (99) switch backs, we stopped for food and water.


And then it was up, up, up some more.

Throughout the hike up, I felt great. I could feel a slight headache from the altitude, but nothing bad, and nothing that prevented me from being happy and chipper and running off ahead of poor Alex, who was feeling pretty terrible from the altitude, in my excitement to get to the top.

My weakness was after the trail crest, where the trail turned from the series of switchbacks into a single track that ran along the edge of the mountain. The view down the steep slope nearly paralyzed me. Fortunately, my brother lent me one of his hiking poles, and I used it to push back against the edge of the trail. The psychological advantage gave me the confidence I needed to move forward at a decent pace.

Our little group pushed ahead and finally reached the top around 11:30 am.

The view from the top.

We made it!

(Unfortunately, those sun glasses never made it back to camp that night.

I hope someone nice found them and is enjoying their new pair of sun glasses!)

We spent about an hour up top, eating, relaxing, and hunting for the elusive honey mead. Then we signed the peak log and headed back down.

Once we started back down, my head ache surprisingly got a lot worse. Alex also seemed to be feeling worse, and his motto became, "I'll feel better once I get lower," which led him to essentially sprint down the mountain.

The rest of us (aside from Jesse who sprinted down the mountain step for step with Alex) hiked back at a normal pace. There were scrapes and sprained ankles, first experiences with WAG bags, and encounters with extraordinary hikers.

The hike concluded around 5 or 5:30 pm, and the day was capped with Lone Pine pizza and an early night's slumber under a star-lit sky in our little tent city.