Mount Whitney - high above the Lower 48.

We were a rag tag group of climbers, three of us came from Folsom - Gary, Brandon, and myself; two from LA - GENE and Jason; and one mustached mountain man from Mountain House State Forest - Rick.  Rick does forest management at a California State forest. The group's climbing experience was thin with only Gene and I having relevant experience. What they lacked in experience though the rest of the group compensated with determination and a lot of laughs.

The trip started with an ominous tone as Brandon forgot the most essential piece of gear, his boots. Luckily we were only 10 minutes up the road so we doubled back, then onward to pick up Gary. It only took leaving the neighborhood before Gary asserted that he forgot his boots too. Newbies!

Gary, Brandon, and I rocked out to sweet country tunes heading south down US 395 towards Mount Whitney - the miles ticked off quickly as we passed numerous small towns and the turn-off to Mammoth.  We rolled into Bishop, an hour away from the Whitney Portal, with our minds on our last real meal before facing the mountain.  After consulting the Yelp! machine, we settled on a little BBQ spot called the Holy Smoke Texas Style Barbecue.  When the hostess greeted us with a big Texas drawl, we knew we had hit pay dirt.  Out came delicious cuts of beef brisket, half chicken breasts, pulled pork, and ribs along with tasty sides of mac'n'cheese, baked beans, 'slaw, cornbread, and apple cobbler.  We ate, then ate some more.  There were delicious BBQ sauces along with the meal and we even tempted fate by trying the ghost pepper based sauce.  It brought the punch but it was more Oscar de la Hoya than Mike Tyson.  No standing 8 counts were given out as we continued through and polished off the meal.  Holy Smoke was a good choice for our last meal before facing the mountain.

Pre-game meal at Holy Smoke and the Ghost Pepper sauce!

Onward we continued south and made out way to the Whitney Portal well after dark.  The chosen rendezvous spot was in the "overflow parking lot, near the port-o-potties" according to Gene.  Classic.  Everyone else was there with Rick just getting settled and Gene and Jason already set up with their parking lot sleeping bags next to the car.  Gene was rudely awakened by me as we got the run-down of the plan.  Gene was our guide as he'd been to Whitney's summit a handful of times before.

That night the plan was to get some terrible sleep in the parking lot and get started in the morning - no rush on day 1 as we just had 8 miles to cover by mid-afternoon.  The sleep went as expected (rather horribly) yet everyone was in good spirits as we put our packs together in the early morning light and readied for the hike.  A quick stop at the trail head pack scale and we were off.  Gene weighed in with the heaviest pack at 36 pounds and mine was just behind at 33 pounds - rather light.  Others' packs were between 25 and 33 pounds.  Off we went.

Getting packed up.

My expectations were that this hike was going to be relatively straightforward and easier than both Rainier and Shasta.  Besides being slightly less gained elevation than Shasta, we would not need any ice gear and were forecast to have relatively benign weather.  Additionally, I'd been hiking all summer long with numerous strenuous day hikes and various other activities - I felt like my body was at it's peak for the year, perhaps ever.  Would expectations play out?

Look at these guys! From left to right - Gary, Rick, Jason, Gene, Me, and Brandon

We made steady progress throughout the morning, stopping at nearby Lone Pine Lake as a quick aside and at a few spots for snacks.  Weather was really good, sunny and in the 50s, as we hiked through the alpine forests loaded mainly with pine.  Great vistas of the below valley were abundant as we continued to gain elevation.  The trip couldn't have started any better.

Great views and sunny skies on the way up

As we gained elevation, we made our way above the treeline around 11,000 ft. and into the exposed hills guarding Whitney's summit.  Base camp was attained around 2:30 PM and we found a suitable spot for setting up our one-night camp.  Boom, tents came out, water got filled; we could smell the summit.  Soon, the mountain began to have her presence become known.  Winds picked up and the temperature dropped.  As the sun dropped below the ridge line around 5 PM, the temperatures plummeted into the 30s and the winds began howling.  We started to realize that it was going to be a very cold night.  Quickly, our MRE dinners were assembled and scarfed in an attempt to stay warm.  Then, one-by-one, as we were all freezing in the evening twilight and howling winds we retreated to the relative warmth of our tents and mummy sleeping bags.  The last of us were in our beds by 6 o'clock at the very latest.  The night would not be kind.

Brandon and I hunkered down in our two man tent with Gene and Jason in another with Rick and Gary in a third.  Our agreed-upon plan was to wake up at 4 AM and start the summit climb.  At best, I got 3 hours of sleep that night even though we were in our tent for more than 10 hours as the wind howled and whipped the tent into our faces.  Halfway through the fitful night I felt the pillow portion of my sleeping bag and felt nothing but ice.  I assumed that condensation was freezing on the bags.  I pulled my head into the sleeping bag like a scared turtle.  As I watched my watch tick down to 4 AM and waited huddled inside my sleeping bag, I worried about my hiking companions who were even less prepared than me and probably colder.  It was maybe 2 AM at this point; two more hours of waiting and shivering before I would poke my head out of the sleeping bag and see that Brandon and I were covered with a light dusting of super dry snow.  Anything outside of the sleeping bags was frozen and cold.  Luckily I had put my boots and most of my gear inside of my pack so it was sheltered under the tent vestibule and at least dry.  Brandon's boots had a half inch of snow inside them.  The wind was still whipping, keeping everyone awake, I got up and checked on everyone.  Everyone was alive, cold, and not ready to start the hike.  We agreed that 2 more hours of huddling and shivering in our respective tents would be enough to time to perhaps wait out the storm and warm up slightly.  Back into the tent and turtle position in my sleeping bag I went.  At this point I was starting to have pessimistic thoughts that not everyone would be able to make a summit attempt.

Whitney bathed in the first rays of morning sun ... and the cold shade that we needed to escape!

Fortuitously the wind abated and air temperatures slowly began to rise with the coming dawn.  Our group was able to get a little bit of sleep with our delayed departure and the improving weather.  We emerged from our tents after 6 and this time everyone agreed that we would depart soon.  The gathering of day packs and consuming of calories commenced as we began preparing for the day.  Although it had warmed slightly and the wind calmed, it was still in the 20's and felt colder in the shade of the mountain.  We saw headlamps working their way up the 90+ switchbacks and thousands of vertical feet waiting to greet us after our miserable night.  We began the switchbacks, going up to meet the sun's rays as they slowly descended the mountain to meet us.  The thought of the sunshine on my face and warming my body pushed me onward at a fast pace.  Quickly we spread out with myself taking the lead followed by Gary, Rick, Gene, Jason, and Brandon.  As we climbed, I observed Brandon and Jason falling behind.  I began worrying when 10 minutes had passed and Brandon and Jason did not resume the climb.  I did the last thing I wanted to do, turn around and descend, telling the others to continue as we would try to meet them higher on the mountain.

The snow that tormented us all night.  Frigid.

I got down to Brandon and Jason.  Brandon was struggling with classic symptoms of altitude sickness, he wasn't able to warm up, had slight headache, couldn't feel his hands or feet.  We got him some aspirin, fluids, and calories and waited to see if he would feel better.  I sent Jason up the mountain and waited with Brandon.  After 10 mins or so and some encouragement from me, we started at a slow pace up the mountain.  Moving would help Brandon warm up and the sun above would really help.  I took Brandon's pack, carrying both of ours, as we trudged along.  I felt really good and slowly Brandon began to regain strength.  We reached the sun and Brandon really picked up the pace - it was clear he had fought through the altitude sickness and we were going to be fine.  He took his pack back and we continued up to meet the others just before the Trail Crest at 13,600 ft.

Gene at the Trail Crest.

At the Trail Crest, we took a break.  Here we were only 900 vertical feet from the summit yet still about 2 miles away.  Two miles at these altitudes is no picnic but very achievable.  From the Trail Crest I put it into high gear.  We were on the backside of the mountain and tip-toeing along icy loose rocks.  I passed the 3 "windows" with views back to the front side of the mountain and below valley.  The backside views were of the Sequoia National Forest; we could see the John Muir trail cutting up the ridge to meet the Mount Whitney Trail.  The last couple of miles ticked off and finally I saw the Mount Whitney hut as the trail flattened to the summit.  I was there and threw off my pack.  Whitney had been more of  a challenge than I'd anticipated but at the end we would all make it to the highest point in the continental United States at 14,506 feet, just a hundred feet higher than Mount Rainier.

That's my boot!  Victory!

Traditional victory summit beer!  The highest bud light consumed on that day in the Continental US!

A lot of happy faces at the summit

The rest of the group trickled in and we enjoyed lots of snacks and of course some traditional victory beers.  We were behind schedule so we did not linger too long.  Down the mountain we went.  Between the summit and the trail crest, I had to make a bathroom stop which proved to be most satisfying, my first experience with a wag bag.  It was all downhill from there as we made good time down the mountain to our camp and got all the gear re-packed.  I hung out with Gene and Jason on the descent as we fell behind Rick, Gary, and Brandon.  I snapped a lot of pictures and enjoyed the sun on my face and increasing oxygen as we descended.

Third 14,000+ ft. summit under my belt.  Also, an 'E'.

Back to the vehicles by 5:30, we headed to Lone Pine for our victory meal.  Old fashioned milkshakes (with the metal cup) and hefty burgers were consumed, recovering our calorie deficits.  A 6 hour drive awaited Brandon, Gary, and I; we would arrive back in Folsom just before 1 AM.
What a trip.  We dealt with considerable adversity yet overcame.  It was great to introduce 4 new hikers to some serious climbing.  I was challenged more than I thought mainly because of a lack of sleep and colder than expected temperatures.  Since the hike, I've bought more cold-weather gear for the next adventure.  The down jacket is a piece of gear one should never be without.

Our group was awesome.  So many laughs shared and grit shown when things got tough.  I wouldn't have it any other way; well, except for maybe those howling winds, unexpected snow, and frozen sleeping bag.  Now, which adventure is next ...  stay tuned.

Many more pictures on Picasa.
https://picasaweb.google.com/115426733602360079088/MountWhitneySummitSeptember2013?authuser=0&feat=directlink

Pyramid Peak and the Scatter-brained Hiker

My friend B-dub and I decided to hike Pyramid Peak in Desolation Wilderness one fine Sunday afternoon in August, 2013.  Pyramid Peak is the highest peak in Desolation and stands at 9,983 ft.  We hit the trailhead from Lyons Creek parking lot just off Wright's Road.  It was a 5 mile windy drive off the main highway and out of cell phone range; but with ample free parking.

Just a quick day hike was the agenda and B-dub and I made it happen.  The first five miles are a breeze paralleling Lyon Creek, passing the turn-off to Lyons Lake; we made short work of that section of trail.  After a short break at Lake Sylvia, we started the most difficult part of the climb, a scramble over massive rocks up a steep slope followed by more loose shale and steep inclines.  That continued for a good mile or mile and a half until we reached the shoulder of Pyramid Peak.  Amazingly there was still snow in the shadow of Pyramid Peak even though we were in the latter half of the Summer.  After a quick re-group with B-dub, we put the final section behind us and enjoyed lunch and vast views at the summit.

Pyramid Peak from the final approaches - Snow in August still!

"This hike is a piece of cake, what could possibly go wrong?"  Aloha Lakes in the background.

We made quick work of the descent, stopping once so I could get our a portable radio about 20 mins from the Summit.  Back at Lyon's Lake, we stopped again for a quick snack.  A few minutes out of Lyon's, B-dub realized he forgot his sunglasses; I waited while he ran back to Lyon's and grabbed them.  Every hike has a little wrinkle ... unfortunately for us there was another much more painful wrinkle waiting to rear its head.

"I am all that is Man!"

We made it back to my car in the late afternoon; awesome hike.  Celebratory high fives were exchanged and the feeling of completion and accomplishment started to sunk in.  Until ...  I rummaged through my day pack and didn't find the green dry bag that contained my keys and wallet.  Rummaging frantically now, I asked B-dub if he is messing with me; did he snag the bag at one of our stops on the way down?  He didn't have it; and of course he thought that I was messing with him.  A sick feeling came over me as I pulled everything out of my bag and clearly the most important items (the keys!) were missing.

Time to make a new plan.  We had our phones but no service, not that there was anyone who we could call who could solve the issue of me not having the keys easily.  Tow truck services were probably an hour away even if we could call and my spare key was just as far away; getting service would be a few miles walk down the road.  We were out of water and food.  We both just hiked 13 miles and covered about 4,000 vertical feet; we were just a bit tired!  It was 4:30 PM on Sunday; we would have light until about 8 PM.  We both worked on Monday morning; B-Dub started at 7 AM.  I thought that certainly left the bag with the keys at Lake Sylvia, 5 miles back up the trail.  A decision had to be made.

This situation called for one thing - a Feat of Strength!  I decided I would run the 5 miles and 1200 vertical feet up the trail and retrieve the keys.  B-dub insisted that he come too although I wanted him to stay.  Off we went, leaving our packs hidden under some scrubby bushes near the useless vehicle.  Fueled by fear and wanting to atone for my mistake, I made fairly quick work of the trail.  As B-dub begain to lag behind I told him to take his time; there was no way he would be able to match my stamina with the motivation I had harnessed.

I passed a couple hikers smartly leaving the wilderness at this time of night.  They certainly were confused at why I was running in my hiking boots and heading up the trail as we started to get into the late evening.  I asked them if they had seen the bag I sought.  Nobody saw anything.  Miles 4 and 5 were a real slog as the trail steepened; I slowed my pace.  Finally, I arrived up at Lyon's Lake; surely I would find the keys.  I looked around hastily trying to remember exactly where B-dub and I had stopped 3 hours prior.  Nothing.  Nadda.  Disaster.  I talked to hiking group (older couple and I presume their 30's something daughter) we passed on the way down who were camping at Lake Sylvia.  I will call these people The Onlookers.  They saw nothing.  They offered me water and I sucked directly out of their Camelbak because I was ridiculously thirsty.  Party foul on my part but ...  I was parched and not really thinking very clearly!

Ok, new plan.  B-dub was probably a mile behind me and twilight was upon us.  We had to get out of the woods (literally) and into cell service range to get a ride.  I turned back around and started on the section of the trail for the 4th time that day; shortly I met B-dub who also couldn't believe that the keys weren't recovered.  Mentally, we were fragile.  Not quite yet broken but on edge.  The helplessness of the situation continued to sink in.  We were racing daylight now; we walked quickly and regained our mental composure.  Soon we ran; we made good time going downhill.

Back to the car, we quickly retrieved our bags as we heard a car slowly approaching from up the road.  B-dub flagged them down and explained our precarious situation.  The couple in the white truck with camper were really nice and offered to give us a ride down to the main road so we would be able to make a phone call and get help.  We pulled ourselves into the cramped extended cab, happy to be off our feet.  I would have been happy on the dirt floor of a prison in Mexico; I was that exhausted.  Terry, the driver, must have seen the hopelessness on our faces; we told him that we live in Folsom.  Since they were heading right past Folsom on their way to Sacramento, he offered to drop us off.  Wow, awesome guy.  Gladly we accepted their offer and slugged out the long ride home crammed behind Terry, his wife, and young daughter or granddaughter.  Terry was a chatter box and all I wanted to do was drink water and go comatose in the back.  Luckily B-dub humored Terry with some light conversation as I tried to ignore my stomach which was tied in knots and my painful physical exhaustion.  Finally, we reached Folsom and the valet service right to my door.  I really hope good karma has found Terry and his family because he saved our day.

The next day, Monday, I made a bunch of calls to the ranger district and Tahoe Police to see if any identification or keys had been turned in.  No luck; it was a longshot anyway.  I kept having this lingering thought that maybe I forgot to put the bag with keys and wallet back into my pack at the first stop down from the Summit, higher than Sylvia Lake.  Maybe it would be worth checking since there really isn't a trail up there as it was more of a scramble and there certainly wouldn't be many hikers on a Monday.  I still had to retrieve my car anyway (I had the spare key now), but my body was exhausted.  I prepared for the Pyramid Peak Feat of Strength Part II!

I was set on making another retrieval run.  After work, B-dub dropped me off at my car at 5 PM.  Equipped with running shoes, a hydration pack and sheer determination, I once again started the run up the hill, again fighting daylight.  I made quick work of the trail and reached Lake Sylvia in just over an hour.  I talked to The Onlookers.  They searched around the lake but didn't find any trace of my missing bag.  Onward I continued.  Up the complicated scramble I went higher up towards Pyramid Peak.  I looked back and noticed The Onlookers watching me eagerly.  I disappeared over the shoulder of the ridge and continued upward, hiking briskly and sucking air as running was not possible on this incline and altitude.  Then, a sight for sore eyes -- there is was sitting unassumingly near a scrub pine perfectly propped up.  It was my green dry bag with keys, wallet, first aid, etc which I'd left 30 hours earlier when unnecessarily retrieving a radio out of my pack.  It was a very happy reunion, we embraced and I think one of us cried.  :)

With 2 of the 3 onlookers and their dog at Lake Sylvia; celebrating the unexpected recovery.

Riding an emotional high, I zoomed down the hill in record speed to Sylvia where The Onlookers were amazed that I had retrieved the bag (and that I was still physically able to stand after the last 36 hours of activity).  They snapped a photo and actually sent it to me on FB later (shown above).  I zoomed down from Lake Sylvia to my beloved Acura TL and she fired right up.  35 miles and 7000 vertical feet after I started, the hike was finally over.  Pyramid Peak was conquered, almost twice!

More pictures on my Google Photos account (Picasa).  Be careful who you trust the car keys to!

I'm happy the way things turned out the way they did.  I was tested physically and mentally perhaps more than I'd ever been before.  What would you have done once you'd realized back at the car that your keys were somewhere on the trail?