Looking Towards Lone Pine Before Sunrise

At 14,494 feet, Mt Whitney is the highest point in the continental (or at least the contiguous) US and as such it attracts huge crowds who dutifully slog up the excruciatingly long (21 miles round trip) regular trail. This trail would probably only need to be 15 miles long (or less) but the US Forest Service and the original trail builders insisted on building trails for the lowest common denominator (namely: livestock and out of shape humans) so it switch backs endlessly at an almost level grade, making the ascent of this route a mind and foot numbing experience. I discovered this years ago when I went up this way, carrying a far too heavy overnight pack as far as Trail Camp, summiting the next day with a pounding headache and nausea from mild altitude sickness and dehydration.

Determined not to make all the same mistakes again and encouraged by the fact that I did not have one of the coveted permits for the regular trail or to camp overnight in this popular area I decided to do things differently this time. My friend Paul had done a route known simply as the “Mountaineers Route” up the mountain a couple years back and had reported it to be a great alternative to the regular slog and, as a bonus, it did not require a permit.

(Note: Permit regulations may have changed - always check at the Inyo Forest Service Ranger Station well in advance of any hike in this area.)

Because it is not an official USFS trail it doesn’t spend much time switch backing and as a result is only around 6-7 miles long (one way), gaining the same 6000’+ as the regular trail. Finally, since this route was not nearly as well used as the regular trail, I was hoping it would allow me escape the usual crowded, carnival atmosphere of the other path. For me this might have been the biggest factor of all in its favor!

Having just spent the previous week hiking some of the high routes in the Tetons before being rained and snowed out, I was feeling pretty fit and acclimatized. After arriving in the Whitney area I had scrambled up 13,850’ Mt Mallory to further reinforce this acclimatization and was now feeling better than I ever had previously at these moderately high elevations. I’ve always hated carrying big overnight packs and feeling as good as I did, it seemed it would be much more enjoyable to go light and fast, ascending and descending the mountain in one day.

I had originally intended to hit the trail just before sunrise at around 6 am, but at a little after 4:00 in the morning I woke up and was soon so wide awake that I decided to get an earlier start. The early morning air was surprisingly warm, but it was highly refreshing compared to the 90+ (F) temperatures of the day before and the half moon and stars where almost unbelievably bright, casting razor sharp shadows over the desert landscape of the Lone Pine Campground. After a quick bagel and banana for breakfast, I hopped in the Jeep and headed up the road that climbs to the trailhead at Whitney Portal. Arriving at the upper parking lot, I was a little disconcerted to find it utterly still and devoid of life. I generally hate crowds, but I had sort of been expecting to see at least some people heading up the regular trail and was somewhat intimidated but the heavy silence and eerie shadows beneath the towering Sequoia trees. Attempting to delay my departure a little longer, I spent way too much time fiddling around with last minute pack, headlamp and hiking pole adjustments. Finally, at around 5 a.m., I could delay no longer and headed off up the trail.

The “Range of Light” at Dawn

As I emerged from the tree canopy, the moon light was so dazzling that I was able to turn off my headlamp and revel in the ghostly views of the towering granite walls all around me. The 1st mile that the wide and easily graded main trail and the Mountaineer’s Route share passed effortlessly beneath my feet and I soon reached the point where the North Fork of Lone Pine Creek crosses the trail. Here I plunged into a short “tunnel” that penetrated the dense and unyielding brush, quickly emerging in a boulder strewn forest. The path was not terribly well defined as it wound its way through this patch of forest and then onto an area of big boulders; several times I found myself off route and had to back track until I found the correct path. Occasionally as the route crossed through the dense brush lining the creek itself I would resort to using my headlamp, but mostly I was able to find my way by moonlight.

The slabby granite walls surrounding the creek on either side of the valley gradually began to pinch in until it almost looked as if the way would be blocked, but a clever series of ledges led up the slabs on right and soon deposited me back in the creek valley above this constriction. As I approached Lower Boy Scout Lake, the sun began to appear over the eastern horizon, painting Mt Whitney and the surrounding area ahead of me a stunning mixture of pinks and oranges. No wonder John Muir called this the “Range of Light”!

Now that the sun was up I could clearly see where I was going and I easily made my way past the lower lake and up into the Upper Boy Scout Lake basin. Here the route became somewhat vague, almost as vague as the route description and topo in the Falcon Guidebook I had with me! I ended up taking a bit of a detour in the wrong direction, but by following the path of everyone else who had made the same mistake I soon regained the ridge that I should have been on. Spread out below me was emerald blue Iceberg Lake while above me loomed the summit of Mt Whitney.

The Route up the Gully to the Right of Whitney

Looking off to the right side of Whitney I was happy to see the large open gully that I intended to ascend come into view. I was elated to find no one in sight above me; I would have the route to myself! I began to ascend a worn path that made its way in a steep switch backing traverse across a loose field of rock and scree to the base of the gully. Fortunately, I was now a past master at this kind of terrain after a long and drawn out encounter with significantly worse conditions on Mt Mallory 2 days earlier and, exerting all the patience I could muster, I slowly but efficiently trudged my way up it one small step at a time.

Ascending the gully itself turned out to be remarkably enjoyable as I was able to avoid most of the loose boulders and scree by scrambling up easy, ledgy slabs on the right hand side. Nearing the top of the gully, I was finally forced back into the fine sandy scree which, combined with the altitude, reduced my pace to the slow, meditative shuffle.

To avoid getting spanked by the altitude, I purposely tried to keep a consistent, synchronized pattern of breathing in one step, and breathing out the next. My world began to coalesce into that single repeated action and all of a sudden, like a door being thrown open, an indescribable feeling of pure joy flooded through me. I’ve heard of people having similar experiences while meditating, but none of that has ever worked for me; I was so surprised I burst out laughing! Of course, the second I was consciously aware of what was happening, I began to analyze it and as quickly as the “door” opened, it slammed shut, still leaving behind a profound sense of well being as a sign of its passing. Though certainly not a life changing experience, this has still got to be one of the coolest things I've had happen to me!

After that I pretty much floated up to the top of the gully and on to the final ascent of the summit plateau! After leaving the notch where the gully ends, I traversed over a couple of hundred feet until I was able to make my way up more steep scree, capped by a final twenty foot, nearly vertical section of piled, plate shaped granite boulders. The last move up these onto the summit plateau turned out to be hilariously dramatic when the boulder I was standing on blew out and went tumbling down the mountainside just as I latched the final hand hold with my left hand. I felt like I was in some cheesy scene from the movie “Cliffhanger”. Fortunately my right arm was jammed in a totally solid “chicken wing” position so I wasn’t really in any danger of falling. A quick mantle move, a walk past the outhouse (!) and I was on the flat, wide open summit, a little before 10 am! Sweet!

Me on the edge of Mt Whitney’s Summit Plateau

I spent nearly an hour on the summit, eating, talking pictures and just enjoying the beautiful day. The residue of happiness left from my experience while trudging up the gully was enough to see me through the arrival of the first hordes coming up the summit trail, even including all those who insisted on calling all their friends, neighbours and acquaintances on their cell phones. Finally though, it was getting a little too crowded on the summit even for my fine mood, so I headed down, electing to take the main trail (instead of back down the “Mountaineer’s Route) in order to bag Mt Muir along the way. This proved to be a relatively easy few hundred foot detour off the trail, with a delightfully solid granite summit block that felt somewhat harder than the 3rd class mentioned in my guidebook. Still, it was nice to have a summit all to myself as I watched the throngs of “pilgrims” making their way to the top of Whitney.

All that was left to do after this was to make my way down the endless switch backs back to Whitney Portal. I passed part of the time talking to a guy who had just completed the 210 mile long John Muir Trail from Yosemite and who was even more overwhelmed by the crowds than I was. I left him to his lunch at Trail Camp, 6 miles from the trailhead and gradually picked up speed in an attempt to get the endless miles flowing by faster. Finally, with about 2 miles left, I couldn’t take it anymore and broke into a run, my pack bouncing awkwardly on my back, at last arriving back at the trail head a little before 3:30pm. It was pure satisfaction to sit back under the shady trees and enjoy a burger (recommended by no less than Peter Croft in his guide book: The Good, the Great, and the Awesome: The Top 40 High Sierra Rock Climbs) and a bottomless lemonade from the Whitney Portal store. What an awesome day!

Mt Whitney Photo Gallery