Start point
Mt Whitney Trail Camp
End point
Mt Whitney Portal Trailhead
Miles hiked
About 14.3
Wilderness area
Inyo National Forest
Bighorn Park
John Muir Wilderness
The day on trail
Walking out at 1am is tough.
We hiked out way up, and the slope started fairly mellow.
I was hiking with Pro near the tail of the group and she was struggling with the elevation. We stuck with our 5-steps-then-a-breath pattern and made it to the steep part.
We soon got to the infamous 99 switchbacks which were completely covered in snow. Now, I’m not a mountaineer, but the final 1000’ of this are, I believe, at a 70° slope. I measured the elevation over time, and it checks out. We climbed it with the tutelage of Propeller and Crispy. Grazer was riding the edge of a panic attack because not only did we need to go up it, we’d have to come down it later. Like me, she doesn’t like heights. I’m lucky to have had some more effective exposure, and when someone else is struggling I tend to rise to the occasion to help.
But it was a terrifying climb. Up. Up. Up.
Finally we got to the apex where the snow stopped for a little bit.
This started in the dark with headlamps and moonlight only, and we switched them off when we were able to see well enough.
When we got to the top, where it wasn’t technical anymore, we split into two groups. I stayed with Pro, Grazer, and Alpine. The others went on faster.
We made our way along the ridge of the mountain.
The yellow ball is the moon. At 14,000’ in elevation there’s so much atmosphere, laterally, that the moon’s color changes when it sets.
The views were just stunning. They weren’t like anything I’ve ever seen.
Grazer stopped before the final ascent a quarter mile before the summit. I stopped with her, along with Pro. I cared more about not leaving someone behind in freezing weather than I cared about summiting a mountain that’s not even on the main trail I’m hiking. Ultimately, I was really happy with that decision. I would’ve been worried had I left her.
After sunrise we started our way back down.
Propeller took Grazer under his wing and Crispy helped Pro, Alpine, and me down, with me in front of the other two. Approaching the edge of that icy slope was the most terrifying thing I’ve done. I’m scared to get close to the edge of roads that are high up, but knowing I was supposed to go down it helped get me there.
I had to sit down on the snow and slowly walk down with my feet and ice axe until it leveled out a little bit. I was able to walk a little bit, and it was just so scary.
It was probably about two hours to descend these couple thousand feet over, maybe, a half mile.
We got to a point where we could glissade and…it was such a relief. Finally I didn’t have to worry about falling down a mountain.
We made it back to camp.
We packed up. Some sweet day hiker left me a gift of some stickers under a rock on my bear canister. We planned on an hour to eat and pack and we all ran late.
Right after packing and meeting up, we started our slushy, sloshy hike back. We slid and postholed out way back out. I managed to tweak my right knee a bit and, thankfully, nothing broke or snapped. I slipped and cut my elbow and bled onto my shirt. But I’ll take a thousand falls on flat-ish snow over an almost fall on a freaking mountainside.
Finally we were out.
Pro, Psyche, and I caught a hitch from a great random trail angle leaving a day hike. The others got rides from other people.
I went and got a motel room, so I could do much-needed laundry and take an absurdly long, hot shower. The others went back to Hidden Valley Ranch.
We planned a single zero. And that was my Mt Whitney experience.
I learned so much though.
I learned I can handle my fears better than I realized. I was able to help others when I was struggling, myself. Hell, helping others when I’m only scared helps me manage my fear. Even when you’re trying your best, sometimes you can still show up for others. Even during your struggles, you can contribute.
This was gnarlier and scarier than any report of Forester or Mather Pass. So I’m ready for that now. I’m not worried nor scared of them anymore, rather I’m excited.
I’m glad I gave up the summit to sit with Grazer. I’m not a peakbagger, I’m a hiker. And hikers take care of each other. I don’t need a trophy at the top of a mountain. I’m here to exist with nature and others, not to conquer land. I’d prefer to conquer my anxieties and fears than the land.
Whitney gave me so much.