Mt Muir & Mt Whitney: Fun Time Mountains
30 June 2014
I submitted my application to go up the Whitney Trail way back in February, before I really knew anything about the Sierra Nevada. It’s funny to think that at one time I had that tourist mentality like everyone else. I wanted to stand on the highest point in the lower 48! Well for all the stigma surrounding Mt Whitney, and in particular the Whitney Trail (see ‘Disneyland with a nosebleed’), I had a good time on this trip. It was exciting to meet such a variety of people on the trail. I talked to an elderly couple from Alabama above Trail Crest, hiked for quite a long time with a group of young professionals my age from New Jersey, and spent the night at Trail Camp with a sizeable squad of local Boy Scouts. I even learned from a PCT through hiker that you can re-supply by mailing yourself packages further down the trail! The pleasure in meeting these people more than made up for the complete lack of the wilderness aesthetic I so came to appreciate at Tuttle Creek.
With my overnight permit, I wasn’t at all worried about getting an early start on this trip. So I slept in and drove up to Lone Pine from Ventura on Saturday morning. A brief wave of panic washed over me as I considered that my coveted permit would be given away to walk-ins since I was arriving so late. That proved to be untrue and I got my permit without any trouble.
Around midday I was driving up the road to Whitney Portal. It goes up and up and up all the way over 8,000 ft. This makes the hike very manageable, especially as an overnight backpack. This is of course provided that the hiker is properly acclimatized, a factor that many people seem to overlook or simply actively neglect. I packed light and started walking up the pristinely manicured trail. I have to admit this sort of travel was pretty mundane. There were no rocks to scramble over or wild creeks to cross. One creek sported a pretty assemblage of large sculpted logs for ease of crossing.
And so I made great time all the way to Trailside Meadow. This was the highlight of the day: the meadow is an oasis amid the otherwise rocky and barren landscape at this high altitude. Green grasses, flowers, and a cascading waterfall set a tranquil mood, despite the hustle of hikers. I relaxed for a bit and eventually sauntered up to Trail Camp just above the meadow. I’m pretty sure it only took me three hours to get to camp from the trailhead. I walked around, took a few pictures, and spent a considerable amount of time building up the rock wall at my campsite. I imagined someone hiking up in the winter, in the freezing, biting winds, and taking refuge behind the enormous wind break at my site. It stands out in stark contrast to the myriad of sites as the finest accomodation available. ‘God bless whoever built this great wall,’ they say with sweet relief. As I was daydreaming and dipping my feet in the lake, my camera slipped out of my pocket and fell right in the water – complete submersion. It actually took a few pictures afterward but then failed to turn on. I’ve recently decided to opt out of the consumer lifestyle, so I took the camera episode as a fateful blessing. Maybe I will sell it to an electronics repair shop or recycle it somehow. Either way, my dumb phone mountain pictures will be of decidedly poor quality henceforth and I could not care less.
With all the free time at camp, I managed to make a few friends among the Boy Scouts. I talked to a troop leader, and he graciously shared some hot noodles with me. The boys had been training for some time for this hike and were doing well. The sun went down early over the mountains, and I slept easy in my bivy sack. The next morning the scouts headed out early; they were up at 4 am, which meant I was up at 4 am. I wished them well as I passed them on the first switchbacks up to Trail Crest.
In the past I have begun to strain up over 13,000 ft from just plain tiredness, but that was not the case this time. The quality of the trail drastically reduces the amount of energy one has to expend to ascend, compared to say, a snow climb up a class two couloir. I stopped at Trail Crest to take in the great view to the west. I chugged some water, stashed my pack behind some rocks, and set out to find Mt Muir. It looked like a fun scramble from the pictures I had seen online. And I am questing to climb all the 14ers in California. Considering how difficult it is to even get on the Whitney Trail, this was my chance. I identified the summit block easily from the pictures. Mt Muir is exactly as advertised, class three with exhilarating exposure! I actually had to do my four and four for four breathing technique to stay calm. Breathe in for four seconds, hold for four seconds, and exhale for four seconds. Works every time. I opened the register to see that people had begun writing entries on the cover of the notebook, as there was no space left on the pages. I wrote a very small entry with my name and the date and my hometown. I spent some time sitting on the small summit boulder of Mt Muir, legs dangling over the edge, taking in the sunrise.
The rest of the trip was uneventful from a climbing standpoint. Mt Whitney is a giant talus heap sloping up from the west. It’s just really high. I caught up with one of the New Jersey guys below the final slog to the summit. His party had started even earlier than me and the scouts from camp, but he was lagging. I had actually told one of his other friends to go in my pack at the crest and drink some water, since he had turned around due to altitude sickness. But I sensed I could coax this guy to the top. He wasn’t sick – just very tired. I walked very slowly in front of him and made a twenty minute monologue about geology to help keep his mind off the pain. It totally worked! He thanked me on the summit for encouraging him along. I was thrilled to encounter two other UW-Madison graduates on the summit as well. I again talked their heads off, feeling generally elated to be on top of the mountain. I signed the mother of all summit registers and noted Mt Williamson to the north and the fierce ridgeline of Mt Russell right in front of me. I’d love to climb these mountains before winter sets in this season.
I casually walked down the mountain, chatting here and there with the multitude of people on the trail. It was great to see many of the scouts so close to the summit. I would guess nearly all of them achieved their goal of summiting that day. All in all I was in great shape compared to the blister-fest at Middle Palisade last week. My pack weighed only 15 lbs as I exited the trail. Meanwhile my friend from New Jersey had 45 lbs on his back! I gave him a lot of credit for making it to the top. That’s all I have to say about this trip. It was sunny. It was relaxing. Mt Whitney, the Fun Time Mountain.
Mt Muir & Mt Whitney photo album