The Climb

On Thursday July 26, 2007 I woke up after a restless sleep at 2:20 a.m. I was too excited to eat, so just got dressed and jumped in the car for the drive to Atascadero, California to meet the rest of our team.

Our group consisted of me, David Michaelis, Nepal Plummer, Roy Plummer, Greg Slane and Fred Platou.

I worked with David and Nepal at Arrival Communications, where we originally hatched this plan after seeing the U.S. Geological Survey Marker for Mt. Whitney on Nepal’s desk. He had climbed the West Face a year earlier and picked up the marker as a memento. Greg and Fred were friends of Roy from their church. Greg, I was happy to find out, was a former Marine like me. He was in the Corps. about 20 years before I was, yet we spoke the same language as Marines never change all that much. It’s an organization steeped in tradition.

We met at 4:00 a.m. in the parking lot of the LDS Church. Gear was transferred to David’s SUV and we were off for the 5 hour drive to Lone Pine. A quick stop in Tehachapi at the local McDonalds was the only break, as we were all so anxious to get started.

Our group arrived at the Lone Pine ranger station at about 9:00 a.m. and checked in. We were given our wag bags (a toilet kit, as no waste can be left on the mountain) and then back in the truck for the 13 mile trip to Whitney Portal.

At Whitney Portal we gathered our gear, weighed it at the small scale at trailhead (we each carried about 40 lbs of gear) and started up the arduous climb to Trail Camp at 12,000 ft.

The first half of the hike was really quite beautiful. After 2 hours of walking along well worn paths surrounded by pines and wild flowers, we came to the Lone Pine Lake area. Here we took our first break. I ate a bagel with honey and peanut butter and drank some water. This would be about all I could stomach for the rest of the trip as we gained higher altitude.

I was concerned about what I had read about altitude sickness while researching the trip. I had never had it before and suspected it would be similar to hiking around with a 40 lb. pack with influenza. I soon found out it was worse, at least for me.

From Lone Pine Lake we headed up toward tree line. We passed Outpost Camp, which I found to be very nice with a waterfall, soft flat ground and lush vegetation. As I’ll discuss in the Epilogue, this is where I would have stayed the night as opposed to Trail Camp.

Passing Outpost Camp, you go up a few switchbacks and then descend to a lush green meadow and crystal blue lake. It almost seems out of place on Whitney. More “east coast” than just outside of Death Valley.

From the meadow, more switchbacks take you above tree line. I come across a young family that is camping on a rocky outcrop and think this would be a nice place to camp. I’m starting to feel the weight of my pack 3 hours into the hike and probably only 3 miles from trailhead. I know I have at least 3 or 4 miles to go till I can rest.

We stop next to a creek and wash our faces with the cold water. It’s very refreshing. Hikers are descending rapidly, reporting bad weather above. I overhear that the rain is severe at the summit and Trail camp has had rain as well.

Packs back on and the pace quickens. We need to get to Trail Camp quickly before the storm hits hard. A set of switchbacks and steep elevation gain brings us to 11,000 ft just as hail starts to fall from the sky. I think to myself that this is how things get dangerous. The granite becomes slick and wet, the sting of the hail on my arms is pronounced. I stop and put my flimsy “Big 5” emergency poncho on. Was I thinking that it would somehow protect me from the hail?

Roy and Greg have gone ahead to scope out a camp site. As hikers continue to descend and report on weather, I ask “… how far to Trail Camp?” They reply that is “…right around that bend”. Yet, each time I turn that bend, or go over a rise it eludes me. This was the worst part of the hike for me. It seemed to go on forever, I was wet and tired and feeling sick from the altitude. I started to feel that I was hitting my limit.

Then, just when I thought I might just drop my pack and stop, I saw the first tent that marked I had made it. Trail Camp looked like a lunar landscape, devoid of any color other than the brown granite. No life at all, but for the weary campers. We set up tents quickly and I broke out my warm jacket. My heart was racing, my head pounding and I had a sick nauseas feeling in my stomach. All signs of Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS).

But for half a canteen cup of soup that Roy was nice enough to prepare, I could not eat or sleep. I’m sure all of us simply laid in our tents that night mostly awake, listening to the roar of military jets overhead, and waiting for the wake up call to ascend the summit.

The call came at 4:00 a.m. As I wriggled out of my mummy bag, I realized that the condensation in our tent was severe. Everything was wet. Thankfully, I slept in my clothes and they remained dry, protected by my sleeping bag. As I stepped out into the cold night, I was amazed at the number of stars I could see. More than any in my life. Was it because I was closer? Probably not, more to do with the clean air, I thought. I looked up and caught a glance at the spires that we would soon traverse. In the blue starlight, they almost looked like sharp horror film fangs rising from the ground. “I’m freaking myself out” I said to myself and decided not to look at them anymore.

Headlamps on, daypacks loaded with gum and water, we walk through the darkness to the infamous 99 switchbacks and begin climbing upward. About halfway up the switchbacks the sun starts to rise over Death Valley, and it is a beautiful site. The switchbacks were not as hard as I had thought. I had trained on Bishop’s Peak, which was similar in elevation gain and footing, so I was feeling pretty good about this.

I was under the impression that the switchbacks would be hard and that Trail Crest would be easy. However, after we arrived at Trail Crest, I quickly found that I was wrong. The Trail that goes behind the spires to the summit, I found, was much more difficult than the switchbacks. Perhaps because it just seemed to go on forever. Additionally, there was some rough footing with steep drops if you were unlucky enough to make a mistake. Feeling wobbly from the altitude, I planted my feet carefully with each step.

We made summit at 9:00 exactly. There were very few people on top with us, and so it was nice to have the highest point in the lower 48 to ourselves for a few moments. Because we knew a storm was coming (it rains everyday), we only spent about 15 minutes on top. Signed in the log book, took some pictures and then down we went. The trip down was twice as fast as up, which makes it that more dangerous. A couple of trips, an ankle twist or two on the rocks, but all was fine.

At Trail Camp we packed up our tents, took a short break of less than ½ hour and then started heading down to Portal. Today would be a total of 16 miles, most of which with full pack. Another stop at the creek to wash and replenish our water, the group broke up at this point. Some wanting to get down to portal as quickly as possible. David and I stayed at the creak a little longer. I was enjoying the grass and the sound of the water. I needed a break.

David and I then started heading down toward tree line, and from here things went pretty fast. A rapid decent, we stopped at Lone Pine Lake for a short break. Then down about 2.7 miles of gradual switchbacks and trails, passing waterfalls and pine trees. Before I knew it, I was walking into Whitney Portal.