We had no camera that day, though I have many other photos on the mountain (and others). Somehow, I still have no scanner, so it will have to wait. I decided to offer this story, since there was one to tell. It was meant as a draft, but I am not too willing to embellish yet, so here is the first or second version:
The story of a hike:
Whitney in Less Than Half a Day
One day in October, I think it was probably around 1978 or ’79, a friend of mine and I were standing about at his house thinking of how we would like to make an adventure out of our weekend. It seems that a local mountain peak, one that both of us were quite familiar with, was the choice…Mt. San Gorgonio. Upon further efforts to arrange the journey, it turned out that an overnight camping permit would be required (it was already evening, and no time for a day hike to the summit). We then realized that the Forest Service office was already closed, so a permit was out of the question. So…we thought about a night hike…no camping, just hiking. As our thoughts unwound, we considered that if we were to go on a non-permitted (but legal) ‘one shot” hike without spending the night, we might as well do something really adventurous. It was then that Mt. Whitney came into our minds. Mt. Whitney was also familiar to both of us (I, myself, have gone to the summit four times, including this story’s trip, and even slept on the summit once). We chose to make it a “go”.
Upon driving the required three to four hours to the great and beautiful Sierra Nevada Mountains of Southern California, we arrived at the Whitney Portal campground. We parked the Pinto station wagon, and set out to sleep on the ground. I won’t speak much about locking the keys in the car…but we did. I was able to retrieve the key with the help of a wire metal coat hanger. It was exactly what we needed; don’t ask me how we found one up there…I only prayed for it. Anyway, after a reasonable nights sleep of maybe five hours, we were up and starting on the trail at a very bright and sunny 7:00 AM, looking forward to a
22 mile round trip, with an elevation change total of over 12, 000 feet! We made good time, as we traveled quite lightly. There were the few necessary stops, but I don’t recall any much longer than maybe ten or fifteen minutes. There were very wonderful sights to see. Neither one of us had a camera, so there is no visual record, darn it, but we certainly enjoyed some fine vistas on the way up. Upon reaching the level around 11,000 ft. plus, we were on the famous upper switchbacks above trail camp. Because it was late in the season, it was a bit chilly in the shade, though still sunny and warm as you faced the light. The trail was covered in many spots with running water and snow…as the snow was melting from the sun. I reminded myself to make a mental note…this would be a problem on the way down. Continuing onward, traveling at a brisk pace, I recall we achieved the summit, 14,496 ft. (give or take a foot or two) at around maybe two or three o’clock. I was well aware that there had been, at that time, several years gone by when it was in fashion to try to run to the summit…to set a standard of sorts. I think the record time was maybe less than half of what our own time was. I was not interested in any record setting plans. We just wanted to go hiking on a Saturday. Anyway, having been to the summit more than once before, it was like visiting again with an old friend. I was quite in the company of joy. Enjoying the summit stay for just a little while, maybe thirty minutes or so, we then headed down for the long journey home. As it was to be, the hike back down led it to that area of switchbacks with the snow and running water. It was now about 3:00 PM, and the sun was behind the vast Eastern Sierra escarpment. With the sun now long gone, and us, now still close to 12,000 ft. in October (and still wearing our standard short pants and light sweater), the air became much closer to being cold. The running water had now since turned to frozen ice, and the path was as slick as an ice cube from my kitchen freezer at home. It took some amount of effort, some guts, some prayers, and a certain degree of skill and agility, but we managed to avoid a serious situation by tackling the icy section of trail and making our way downward to the much more agreeable rocks and gravel below. As is customary, the sun eventually went down, leaving us to use our headlamps to illuminate the rest of the way. I cannot describe very much how difficult it can be to rapidly descend a mountain such as this after a climb like that, but my own brother skillfully refers to it as “The Damned Descent”. Long, long walking, long, long thoughts to myself…as I wandered a bit ahead, my partner somewhere behind, though not at all in view. At one point I though I even saw a monkey, sitting on a rock….must be evolutionary. Finally, as we arrived at the parking lot and faithful Pinto car, sometime before 7:00 PM it was, we shared our thoughts (when I mentioned the monkey, he meekly told me he had the same vision, though not too keen to say so!), gathered ourselves, and swiftly drove back to the town below, Lone Pine, California. We obtained a camping site just outside of town, bought some brew, and had a whale of a night just reveling in the marvels of the great day it was. Mt. Whitney, in half of a day, less than twelve hours…unplanned, unhindered, unbelievable. My heart was still pounding, even until close to mid-night, as I finally “put in”, and went to bed. The drive home was Sunday. More adventures to come.
Since that time, now nearly fifty years old, I have come to understand that it is quite a feat to do Mt. Whitney in a day. Fancy that! So many people now train for months or more, get a permit (now required), and give it a try. I feel a bit special. I trained for nothing. I planned for nothing. I expected only adventure. What I got in addition, was the right to claim: Mt. Whitney, in half a day!
--Dan
© 2007, Dan L.
