Climbing Mt Whitney

Why? Because it was there. In early 93, Terry and I spent a weekend in Reno with some friends. On the drive home down US 395, we stopped at a pizza parlor in Lone Pine for dinner. While there, I started looking at a brochure describing climbing Mt. Whitney. Then and there, I decided that I wanted to try it.

Friday morning, packing & transferring stuff from the cars and suitcases to backpacks


Bill reading the instructions for his brand-new camp stove


The trailhead


The intrepid adventurer ready to begin the adventure!


Scenery on the way up


Lunch break


The first snow on the trail


More scenery


And still more scenery, with a waterfall in the distance


We considered camping in this meadow, but it wasn't permitted
The trail continued up the rock face above Bill's head


The first snow on the trail that we had to cross


Sunset from camp


Mountains surrounding the campsite


More mountains surrounding the campsite


This formation is known as "Wotan's Throne"

The trail camp where we camped Friday night was a primitive campsite, the only amenity being a pit toilet. Water was available from a stream, and had to be either boiled or filtered. Rock rings delimited campsites. I picked one, Bill and Laura picked another; we shared meals, however. Here's Camp Grinnell:

...and Camp Bill and Laura - in shadow:

The green blob is their tent. The silver and blue patches at the edge of the shadow are the "kitchen" area. The double line of rocks in the background are the trail.

Saturday morning we hit the trail again. This was our first actual glimpse of Whitney. It's the rightmost peak in the ridge behind Bill and Laura.

By this time we were above the timberline, but these purple flowers were still present in abundance:

The last major obstacle before the peak is climbing up to the ridge that Whitney is part of. This entailed crossing the snowbank pictured here. It was as steep in real life as it looks in this picture. The trail hits the ridge just to the left of the leftmost of the two large outcroppings of rock on the right side of the picture. The last several feet of the ascent required hands and feet to climb.

When you come up over the ridge, you're looking out over the Sierra Nevada. The view is incredible. This picture gives only a taste. Bill and I spent a while looking at the map and spotting landmarks.

From this point the trail follows the ridge until it goes up to the peak. This is an interesting rock formation along the trail:

...and here I am on the trail at the base of that same rock formation:

At the base of the peak, looking up, you can see the hut at the peak which serves as a shelter during rainstorms. Actually, signs say that you should not use it as a shelter, but it's there for people who get caught. The roof fairly bristles with lightning rods.

On the side of the hut is this logbook for hikers to sign in. I took this picture after signing the logbook to prove that I was there, but you can't really see my signature:

Success! The peak is covered with a jumble of rocks, and I found the one that was higher than all the rest, and I stood on it to have my picture taken. Mt. Whitney is, of course, not only the highest point in California, but in the continental U.S. Notice that I'm wearing my "Where the Hell is Grinnell?" T-shirt. Where the Hell is Grinnell? On top of the whole country, is where the Hell Grinnell is!

More pictures of me at the peak:

We got an obliging fellow hiker to take this picture of the three of us at the peak:

Behind Bill and Laura, you can see where we've been. That's the Owens Valley behind them, with Lone Pine the dark patch in the distance. You can also see the road leading up to the trailhead.

Back at camp. We shared the area with a number of marmots. In particular, there was a mama marmot and her family (I called them Marmot-cita and her marmites) living under a large rock near Bill and Laura's camp. The rock in this picture is not the rock they lived under, but you can see a marmot at its base.

Scenery on the trail down


Relaxing with a Coke at the trailhead store, after my shower


Trail's End! This is the pizza parlor where it all began

All in all, a most satisfying experience. Not exactly what you might call "fun", but the kind of thing you feel good about having done. While you're struggling up the trail, you ask yourself why you're doing this. But the payoff comes from the scenery, the feeling of exhilaration at the top, and the feeling of accomplishment when it's over.