like to tell stories. Sometimes, I even like to write stories about things that I've seen, done and experienced. This one's a long one, so don't complain about "TL; DR" to me - you've been warned, but it is one of my favorites. I'm also happy to say that in my opinion, the story is made at least ten times better by the great photos that Calipidder lent me to accompany the piece, so go check out her site as well for more great trail reports and photos! So, without further ado, here's the story about how I avoided death-by-mountain-lion!
How to Climb Mt. Whitney
So, you’re looking to climb Mt. Whitney? If so, you’ve come to the right place. I’ve climbed Mt. Whitney a number of times – without snow, with snow, on the mountaineer’s route, on the Mt. Whitney trail, under sunny skies, and under cloudy skies with thundersnow. I’ve seen bears, lots of marmots, and all sorts of hikers, mountaineers, and climbers. While I’m not going to say that I’ve seen it all, I’ve seen a lot, and I’ve written a lot, so this is a great time to recap all of the resources that are present on this site (and off this site). So, without any further ado, if you want to know how to climb Mt. Whitney, here’s what you need to know!
The Zen of Mountain Climbing
I’ve been heading up to Mt. Whitney on a yearly basis for a while now. I’m not quite sure when it started, because I have a love-hate relationship with the mountain. Every time I get there, I am amazed, awed, and thrilled to be there. Then, at some point on the climb, the positive emotions turn negative – I get tired, I posthole for a couple miles, or something minor happens and becomes frustrating. I then vow never to go back. After about six months pass I think to myself, “I should really go to Mt. Whitney”, and the cycle starts again. This year, due to some external factors, I had to make my yearly trip earlier than usual (Last week, I talked current trail conditions here), and while I was climbing/mountaineering/hiking along, I realized that I had a tip to share about climbing Mt. Whitney. I’ve shared many tips, but the main tip, I realized as I sat under perfect blue skies at just above 12,000 feet on an icy slope, is that it is more than fine to turn around on Whitney, and in fact, turning around on Whitney, or any mountain, for that matter, can make your climb into a better experience – and not just for practical life-saving reasons.
Hear me out: I didn’t summit Whitney this year, and I don’t have a problem with admitting that, as it was one of my better climbs. I feel that this is what makes the difference between a veteran climber, and a novice climber. A novice climber feels the pressure of having to make the summit at all costs, and when they don’t, in my experience, they come up with the x, y, and z of excuses of why it didn’t happen. A veteran climber, on the other hand, simply states the obvious: that there were adverse factors, but admits that they personally didn’t get it done. To prove this theory, I need look no further than my last climb of Whitney. From two miles in, I had to find my own route; I was on ice; I was on snow; and there was a stiff, vigorous breeze that was pushing against me at around 25 mph; and in the chute, the sun partially melted the snow and slowed my progress to a crawl.
Depending on how I tell the story; any one of those reasons could be used as an excuse as to why I didn’t make the summit. But here’s the deal: I got a late start. That was on me. I wasn’t moving as fast as I could. That was on me. I didn’t bring snowshoes. That was on me. Finally, perhaps my conditioning could have been a little better, because my conditioning could always be a little better. Those external factors? Well, it’s Mt. Whitney. In 2007, when I successfully climbed it with my group, I woke up in the middle of the night at Trail Camp, and headed outside. At that point, there were 35-45 mph wind gusts ripping down the mountain. The temperature? A balmy -1. The climb? Yeah, we made it up to the summit and back down the next day in those same winds. As for snow, I’ve seen more snow on the mountain in 2002, 2005, and 2010, just to name a few times.
As for the chute, in 2010, we made good, but not great time on our ascent, and got trapped in the chute in that same molasses like snow and ice – but we still summited. To top that off, on that same climb, we had to hustle off the summit to avoid an unexpected thunderstorm. That storm also dumped snow on us during our descent. All of that happened on June 21st – the summer solstice! My point? On Whitney, like any big mountain, there’s always going to be problems. There’s just no two ways about it. This is a true story: every mountain, including Mt. Whitney is always going to throw everything it can at you. The weather is always going to be an issue. The altitude is going to always be an issue. No matter how good your conditioning is, your conditioning is also always going to be an issue. The reason these things are always going to be an issue is because mountaineering – the climbing of mountains - is challenging; namely because mountains themselves are large, immovable objects, and are inherently challenging. Mountaineering is meant to be a challenge. After all, it’s not sleeping. It’s meant to challenge every aspect of your being.
This challenge is also what I’m talking about when I talk about the difference between novices and veterans. In my opinion, and not everyone may agree with it, a novice makes those excuses I talked about above, because they feel like they’ve failed the challenge of climbing the mountain. A veteran, on the other hand, understands this point: that the challenge is only failed if you endanger yourself; or other people. Whether you make the summit is immaterial. The challenge is how you respond to adversity – the mountain. Sure, the summit is the most tangible example of whether one completed – and rose to the smaller challenge; but the real example in my mind as a veteran climber of whether one has risen to the mountaineering challenge is whether one made it back down safely – irrespective of whether one has “bagged” the peak.
I turned around on Whitney this year, because I knew I didn’t have enough daylight left to summit and safely descend. Sure, I had the gear; and sure I had the skills. I also knew that I was the only one on the mountain that day. If something happened to me, and accidents do happen on Whitney, I would be on my own, in a bad way. I turned around because the challenge was to get down safely at that point, and come back another day. Sure, it was easy for me because I’ve been on the summit eight times. But, I’ll be honest: as a veteran, I would have turned around even with no summits under my belt, because the mountain is always going to be there.
That’s the awareness I’d like to leave novice climbers with: the mountain is always going to be there – but you won’t. If you’re in a spot where it’s “go” – or “don’t go”, give the “don’t go” serious consideration, because you can always come back. Sometimes, when you don’t go, as well, you not only place yourself in a better position in terms of surviving, you place yourself in a better position for appreciating what’s out there, and that’s what I’d like to leave you with. I don’t know how big the mountaineering community is world-wide, but I’d be willing to guess that even with the increase in popularity the last ten years, it’s still fairly small. We, as mountaineers are a minority of the populace. We are a community that will hike, climb, and yes, mountaineer into some of the remotest spots on the planet. These are spots that most people will likely never hear about; and may likely never see. These are spots that most people will likely never experience, even if they are popular spots like Mount Whitney. Irrespective of whether a far summit is achieved, we as mountaineers have a duty to appreciate what others cannot; and appreciate what beauty there is in the world.
So, if you are on Mount Whitney later this year, or on any other peak, and your trekking poles seem heavy, or your ice axe keeps sticking, stop, look around, appreciate the challenge, appreciate the environment, and appreciate the moment. Maybe you make it up; maybe you don’t, but the important thing is that you accept the challenge of returning, and the challenge of appreciating what you, and only you are seeing at that moment.
Current Conditions, Mt. Whitney Trail, April 8, 2013
Every year, I like to take a trip up to Mt. Whitney, either to climb the mountain, or to hike around the general region, as it is stunning. This year, I had to make my trip a little earlier than usual due to a combination of factors; but also to get in some ice axe and crampon practice for my upcoming climb of Mt. Rainier, which my climbing and podcast partner, Matt Mills and I will be climbing the first week of May. If you’ve ever read my blog, you know that I always have additional commentary about things that I think about while hiking, which I’ll reserve for tomorrow; but for today, just the facts regarding trail conditions as of Sunday, April 8, 2013.
Trail Conditions: The road up to Whitney Portal is almost completely clear of all obstacles. There were some small rocks/boulders in the middle of the road; and there were some fresh rocks that fell onto the road during the day; but overall, the road is currently in excellent shape for this time of year. I didn’t get the early alpine start that I had originally planned, but I did get on the trail slightly before 6:00 a.m. At that point, it was around ~35 degrees at the portal, with intermittent wind gusts that were around 20-25mph.
As I headed up, I noticed that the trail is clear from the Portal to just before Lone Pine Lake. While there are drifts of snow in places before that point, the trail is exposed, and easy to follow. Both the creek crossings – Carillon Creek and the North Fork of Lone Pine Creek are flowing; but are not flowing high at this point, and are very easy to cross. Based on my observations and my altimeter, I’d say that what snow there is at the lower elevations is patchy coverage that starts around 8,800 feet, and it is melting fast during the day, and re-freezing at night. Other than a few drifts here and a few drifts there, there’s not really much for me to say about these lower sections, as they are in good shape.
Just past the trail junction for Lone Pine Lake, the snow goes from patchy coverage to what I would call 75%-100% coverage. From the junction, there is a snowfield that is present heading up the slope toward Outpost Camp. Enough people have passed through this area that the trail is readily apparent; although there are some “false” trails that head off to other areas at this point. However, once you enter the meadow that Outpost Camp is located in, the coverage drops substantially and there are plenty of spots to camp. It was at this point that I encountered the only two people I would see all day, who were just waking up. I spoke to them for about five minutes; but unfortunately didn’t get any great information out of them, other than that they had tried the Mountaineers Route the day before, and said that it was “too sketchy”. Unfortunately, they were very reticent to share any other details than that with me about the route, including the particulars of why it was “sketchy”, so rather than risk unknown problems, I elected to keep heading up the main trail.
From Outpost Camp, the switchbacks heading up to Mirror Lake are partially covered with snow, but the trail is mostly exposed. Again, enough people have headed up through this area that the trail is readily apparent. At the base of Mirror Lake, the trail is completely obscured, but there is a clear path through the snow past the lake. When I passed through, the lake was completely frozen; but in the afternoon, it had partially unfrozen. From Mirror Lake, the trail is harder to find; and I basically blazed my own way up toward the top of the granite block. As far as I could see, this seemed to be the stopping point for 99% of most day hikers, and a good portion of climbers not familiar with the area. From the granite block/treeline area toward Trailside Meadows, there was near total coverage of solid snow/ice. So, for anyone keeping track at home, I would say that if you are wondering where the real snow/ice is an obstacle, I would say exactly at treeline – between 9,500 – 9,600 feet. While there was snow before that as I noted, it was nothing that really slowed or hindered my progress. From this point, to Trailside Meadows, I was able to follow the “trail” based on a couple of markers; and my knowledge of the area. While there were not too many tracks, I left a clear set heading up.
At Trailside Meadows, I elected to head pretty much directly up the drainage toward Trail Camp; and while I did follow some of the trail, overall it was more expedient for me just to head over the snow/ice in this area as it was very solid in the early morning. It is worth noting that I wished that I had brought snowshoes, which I did not have, as they would have definitely helped my pace in the early going, and been a huge asset on my descent in the afternoon. Atop the drainage, I was able to pick up the trail heading into Trail Camp; and had some great views of the fully frozen Consultation Lake. As far as I could tell, there were no tracks heading through Trail Camp, so, unless it snowed Sunday night, mine are basically the sole set heading up toward the switchbacks. While there are some spots that a tent could be pitched in Trail Camp, overall, the snow coverage was pretty good.
Once past Trail Camp, I could see that while portions of the switchbacks are slightly exposed, the overall trail is still impassable due to the snow and ice that remains. Based on this, I elected to head up the chute next to the switchbacks, which I have done many times before. Slightly past Trail Camp, I put on my crampons, and was using my ice axe, which I would say are absolute necessities if you are attempting this traverse within the next six weeks. It was at this point, when I was heading up the chute that the lack of an alpine start came back to bite me in the butt. Despite the intermittent 25-35mph wind gusts coming from the West, the direct mid-morning sun on the chute made it an absolutely brutal slog. I made it approximately 75% of the way up the chute; and I imagine that had I not had to make it back to the Portal by a certain time, I could have made it to Trail Crest; but, I would strongly suggest that if you are attempting to summit via this route anytime soon, that you get an alpine start to avoid this problem.
At that point, due to my time constraints, I elected to turn back around, and was able to glissade part of the way back down the chute in uneven snow conditions; some slushy; some solid. I made good time back to Trail Camp; but from Trail Camp to about Lone Pine Lake, I was stuck in bad snow conditions, where I was postholing step after step. Again, this is where a pair of snowshoes would have really helped me out. Due to the soft snow, and frequent postholing, it took me a fair amount of time to cover this short distance that is not technically challenging or dangerous. While this portion of the climb was a little frustrating, it was a great hike/climb under mostly perfect conditions for this time of year. I was surprised to see so few people on the mountain; but this is something that I am sure will change quickly.
Summary of Conditions: patchy snow from 8800 feet on up; mostly total coverage from 9600 feet on up. Snow is solid in most places during the early morning, turning into soft/slushy bad conditions in the mid to late afternoon. I expect there will probably be one late season storm that rolls through, but overall, the melting season has begun, and the trail is starting to clear for what will no doubt be another busy summer!
In Ice Axe We Trust, March 2013 Recap
Ahoy-hoy listeners and readers! If you’re not listening to In Ice Axe We Trust (“IIAWT”), you are missing out! March was a great month of podcasts for IIAWT, and we had three fantastic guests, @jesthecc (Her website here), @jenniferwoods (Her website here), and Jonathan House (his website here). We discussed two big peaks - Mt. Humphreys and Mt. Hood; and had some fun debates along the way, including to trekking pole, or not to trekking pole - a timeless and eternal question.
March 13, Episode 5: Humphreys Peak, Arizona.: the IIAWT How-to climb guide. I previewed this episode here a couple weeks ago, but on it, we had two great guests, Jes and Jen, and we discussed all things Arizona, including its highest point. Catch it here, or on iTunes. (Update! Read to the bottom to learn how to make your own homemade Larabars, courtesy of Jen!!)
March 27, 2013, Episode 6: Mount Hood, Oregon: the IIAWT How-to climb guide. We were lucky to have a great guest, Jonathan House, who shared his story of how he climbed Hood just last year; and in case you missed it, you can listen here, while viewing his fantastic photos here. This show had a great discussion of the considerations that go into roping up, and more importantly, which Oregon team you should root for in collegiate sporting events. Don’t believe it? Listen HERE, or on iTunes.
Coming Shows: We will be back on the air on 04/10/13 with another mystery guest or two, and we will be discussing thepeakseeker's climb of Mt. Hood, my time on Mt. Whitney, and our upcoming climb of Mt. Rainier. Stay tuned to us on Twitter to find out who or whom!
Giveaways/Sponsors: On March 27, 2013, we had a winner in our COLD giveaway, and it was WalkSimply, with her great story about encountering a snake on Sitton Peak. While we're not sure what our next giveaway will be, you can be certain that it will be interesting! If you’re interested in entering any contests or sponsoring the show, contact myself, or thepeakseeker, and be sure to tune in!
Recipe for Homemade Larabars:
Homemade Lärabars: Mango Lassi Bars
Ingredients:
1 1/2 cups unsalted almond or almond pieces (raw or toasted/roasted)
1 cup medjool dates
3/4 cup dried mango
1/4 cup unsweetened coconut (shredded or curls)
1/4 teaspoon cardamom powder (use up to 1/2 teaspoon if you love cardamom)
pinch sea salt
Line an 8x8 square baking dish with parchment or waxed paper. First, pulse the almonds in a food processor (or a blender should work) until they are finely chopped (but not so much that you’ve created a nut butter).
Pour nuts into a bowl.
In the food processor (you don’t have to clean it out) add the remaining ingredients and process until you’ve created a uniform paste. If you need to add tiny splashes of warm water to get it to come together, feel free to do so. If your mixture has turned into a ball, turn the machine off and use a spoon to push the mixture back down into the blades.
Add back the nuts and then process until it’s a uniform consistency again.
Press the mixture into your baking pan so that it’s even. Dipping your hands into a bowl of water helps tremendously here. Place the pan into the refrigerator for at least a half an hour to make it firm up enough to easily cut into bars.
Wrap in a cloth, or squares of parchment or waxed paper and take with you for your adventure on the trail.
Botanical Trail, Elfin Forest Recreational Reserve
From the trailhead, the trail winds along the Escondido Creek, and there is a small area near the beginning that has great views of the creek. At this point, it is definitely worth noting that this trail is interactive – the reserve has placed markers along the trail that can be followed in one of two ways – by the paper trail guide that is present at the location, or online via this link HERE. This is a great way to learn about Southern Californian plants, and the local ecosystem of the reserve, and personally for me, I think that it’s great that this can be accessed on your smartphone while hiking – it’s a great way to be outside and learning all at the same time. After a short distance, the trail crosses over Escondido Creek, which, depending on the season, may be flowing high or low. Once you are across the creek, the trail passes through a grove of Coastal Live Oak, before heading uphill. While this section of uphill is not as steep as the nearby “Way Up Trail”, it will definitely get the blood pumping.
Lawrence Welk Caves a/k/a the "Hidden Meadows Caves"
If you’ve ever read this blog, or stumbled across this blog, you know that I’m always up for an adventure and always up to explore something new. This last weekend, one of my alert followers asked me if I’d ever heard of the “Lawrence Welk Cave”. I was initially skeptical, because my memories of Lawrence Welk and the terrain surrounding the Lawrence Welk village were something like this; and while that is wholesome and fun for 1960, it doesn’t exactly scream adventure, unless we’re talking one of those creepy adventures where everything appears normal, but actually isn’t. Nevertheless, I’m always willing to admit that I’m wrong, and after a little internet research, it did appear that I was really wrong, and that there were some awesome caves there.