LA’s Guide to Summiting Whitney, Part III - Food Storage: What to do about bears and your car.

It is hard to predict if you will see a bear during your visit to Mt. Whitney. On the one hand, Mt. Whitney and the Whitney Portal area, like most of the Sierras are home to many Black Bears and a lot of Black Bear activity. On the other hand, Black Bears are wild animals and as a general rule, do not like to hang out with humans. In the Sierras, Black Bears come in a variety of colors from a golden brown to a dark black. However, do not let the different colors fool you – there are only black bears in the Sierras. There are no Grizzly Bears, and no California Golden Bears; the first lives in a completely different habitat, and the second is extinct. Black Bears in the Sierras are generally not aggressive toward humans; however, some will engage in conduct known as a “bluff charge”.

In these situations, the bear will run at a person, expecting them to drop their backpack and run; the bear is then left free to pillage their bag for food. If this happens, I cannot stress the following advice enough: do not run! First, you will not be able to outrun a bear. Second, even if the bear is attacking you, you should either fight back or protect your vital areas. Third, if it is a “bluff charge”, the bear will stop before it reaches you, and then saunter off. I have seen this many times, and I have heard of it many times. As a result of these very active bears, Mt. Whitney and the Whitney Portal zone, like all National Parks in the Sierras, have strict bear food storage requirements. The food storage requirements devised by the Forest Service for the Whitney Portal area covers two areas: cars and people.

Cars: Under the law (and yes, you read that right), it is a crime to store food improperly in your vehicle in the Whitney Portal Zone, which is you will be park your car. The reason it is a crime is because it is against Forest Service regulations to feed wild animals (in this case bears). The reason the law applies to cars is because black bears in the Sierras have learned to break into cars to get food. And when I say “break into cars”, I mean that they can break into all areas of the car. Trunk, backseat, front seat, hood, and anywhere else they want to investigate.

How the bears break into cars is really quite ingenious. For the bear, it is a two step procedure. First, they hook their claws into any car window. Second, they simply pull it down. They are unfazed by breaking glass, car alarms, and just about anything else. They then climb into the car through the broken window, and then claw/chew their way into whatever other areas they are interested in investigating. In addition to totally destroying portions of a car to get at food, they also tend to use the car as their own private bathroom!

So, in order to avoid lots of property damage that your insurance may or may not cover, I highly recommend that you follow the Forest Service’s guidelines and store all “smellable” items that you are not taking on the trail in the bear lockers that are provided in the parking lot free of charge. What I mean by “smellable” items are those items that possess any sort of food type smell; such as toothpaste, lotions, sunscreen, shaving cream, bug spray, and of course food. Another reason to use the bear lockers is to avoid a ticket from the Forest Service. I guarantee that the Forest Service will ticket you for having a bear break into your car; which will leave you with: 1) a thrashed car; 2) a car that smells like shit; and 3) a large ticket for allowing the first two things to occur. This is not hype: as former national park service employee, and an avid mountaineer I have seen bears break into tons of cars, and it does happens on a regular basis, so, in short: just use the lockers that are provided.

LA’s Guide to Summiting Whitney, Part II – What to Expect on the Trail from Whitney Portal to the Summit of Mt. Whitney (Day Two)

Day Two: If you are still serious about making the summit at this point, you will definitely want to start early because this will be the day that you do the most hiking. It is approximately four miles to the summit of Mt. Whitney from Trail Camp; and from the summit it is an eleven mile walk back to the parking lot at Whitney Portal. While the descent from the summit to the parking lot is substantially easier and faster, I guarantee that this fifteen mile hike will take a lot of time to complete. One also wants to get an early start to avoid being caught in any potential weather that may develop during the day.

From Trail Camp, the trail immediately heads up the ninety-six switchbacks to the trail crest. Trail Camp sits at just below twelve thousand feet, and the trail crest at the top of the switchbacks is at just over thirteen thousand feet. The ninety-six switchbacks from Trail Camp to the trail crest stretch out for two miles. This is the section of trail that has gained the most notoriety of the whole eleven miles as the “toughest section”. I’m not going to lie to you: it is difficult (I personally don’t think it’s that bad, but that’s just me). Barring altitude sickness, or other unknown factors, this section of the climb will probably determine whether you summit the mountain or not. It is steep; it is exposed; the air is thin; and the mountain seems really far away. From the top of the switchbacks it is still two and one half miles to the summit; however, most of the terrain is a gradual upward slant to the summit along the ridgeline. The last half mile is more or less a straight line up to the summit through a series of large slabs and boulders. After that, there’s only the summit hut and blue sky, because there’s nothing higher for thousands of miles in every direction.

I recommend that from Trail Camp to the summit on the second day one only carries the bare essentials – water, food, and extra clothes. Most people leave their tents set up at Trail Camp, and if you store your food in bear canisters (discussed later), you won’t have to worry about marmots chewing holes in your gear. By carrying less gear you save energy and give yourself a small advantage while completing the most strenuous part of the hike. After summiting, you can pick up your gear at Trail Camp, and rest for a little bit if necessary. After that you can walk the rest of the way downhill to the parking lot which should seem like an easy stroll at that point in the day! Once you reach the parking lot, it’s great just to relax and make crazy promises about never walking or climbing mountains again.

LA’s Guide to Summiting Whitney, Part II – What to Expect on the Trail from Whitney Portal to the Summit of Mt. Whitney (Pre-Day One, and Day One)

Most people request a permit for the traditional, tried and true Whitney Portal ascent to the summit. If it is not winter, this ascent involves one thing and one thing only: walking (or if you prefer the fancy term, mountaineering). The trail leaves from the parking lot at Whitney Portal at eight thousand feet and ascends eleven miles to the summit at 14,496 feet. From the summit it is, again, eleven miles back to the parking lot for a grand total of

twenty-two miles and around twelve thousand feet of elevation gained and lost if one reaches the summit. It is perfectly possible to do the hike in one day; I have done it twice, and while it makes for a long day, it is still a fun experience. The nice thing about doing the hike in one day as compared to an overnight trek is that you get to carry less weight. However, from Whitney Portal, people do the hike in increments of one to three days, and possibly more. The trail is the same no matter how long you take, but I guarantee the longer one takes, the more weight one will carry!

With those points in mind, a sample two-day hike to the summit should roughly look like this:

Day Pre-One (Before the Hike): As most people have to travel to Whitney to climb it, my main suggestion is that if you are planning to climb the mountain, you arrive as early as possible the day before you are supposed to leave. For example, if you are planning to hike Whitney on a Saturday, arrive at the Whitney Portal as early as possible on Friday. This allows one to acclimatize as much as possible, which is a large bonus during the hike. As an added benefit an early arrival gives you the opportunity to select one of the better campsites in the Backpackers camp at Whitney Portal!

Day One: I like to get an early start on the trail. It allows me to hopefully get in front of any large groups on the trail, and it allows me take my time, should I require it during the day. I don’t consider the hike to Trail Camp a long hike at approximately six and one half miles, but another advantage to leaving early is that I arrive at my destination sooner, which allows my body more time to rest, recuperate, and acclimatize. The trail to the summit leaves directly from the Whitney Portal parking lot/campground area. The first three miles of trail loops around mostly tree covered switchbacks. At around four miles, the trail arrives at Outpost Camp.

On a personal note, I don’t recommend camping here on a two day trek, because that means one has to walk eighteen miles the next day to summit and return! If you’re considering this as an option, what I would recommend is just summiting Whitney in one day, because its only four miles more, and you will have to carry a lot less gear! Outpost Camp does have one of two composting toilets on the trail, and good access to water. From Outpost Camp it is roughly two and one half miles to Trail Camp, where I suggest spending the night on a two day climb. Almost immediately after Outpost Camp, you will pass above the treeline for the rest of the hike; according to my map and memories, this is somewhere around the five mile mark.

From Outpost to Trail Camp the trail heads upward through a series of steps and switchbacks. At Trail Camp the trail briefly levels out next to Consultation Lake. Trail Camp is roughly six and one half miles up the trail, and good spot to camp because it’s next to a reliable water source (Consultation Lake) and a good spot to acclimatize (Trail Camp is at around 12,000 feet) for the final push to the summit on Day Two.

The Last Adventurer's Guide to Summiting Mt. Whitney - Introduction and Permits

I developed this guide to help out my group of greenhorns from Pizza Port who were still interested in climbing Whitney after a couple months had passed. Since I knew that the bulk of the group didn’t have much mountaineering experience, I developed this list of things to provide them with the information they would need to be prepared for the hike. Since I’m a modest guy, I think that this list is a pretty good guide to climbing (or as some people would say, “walking”) the mountain from Whitney Portal in two days anytime from late spring to late fall, when no snow is present on the trail and conditions are otherwise good. Someday, I’m sure I’ll post an article about climbing the mountain technically, and in snow, and the particulars needed to accomplish those climbs. (For a preview, check out this series of blogs: http://www.lastadventurer.com/last-adventurers-firering/winter-climbing-mt-whitney-2005-style-part-1.html) But for now, I’ll stick to this plain vanilla guide of things an average hiker needs to know when planning to climb Whitney.

Also, there are two things people should be aware of before utilizing this guide. First, this guide is based off of my personal experiences on the mountain. If you’ve never read any of my blogs before, let me just say that I’ve been mountaineering for a very long time, and I’ve been to Whitney four times in all sorts of conditions; and summitted it three times. I do know what I’m talking about, especially when it comes to hazards and the general route of the trail. But like all things in life, things change, conditions change, and above all else, everyone has their own unique experiences in the wilderness. This brings me to my second point: be prepared. Check the weather before you go. Carry foul weather gear. Be ready for the unexpected, because in the wilderness, anything can happen. While my guide can – and will help people, it’s just a starting place. Everyone’s summit bid is different, and should be treated as such. Above all else, make it your own experience, and enjoy it!

Part I: Obtaining a Permit

Mt. Whitney is the highest mountain in the continental United States at 14,496 feet. As such, it is one of the most popular climbing destinations in the United States to climb. There are a variety of routes; both technical and non-technical to the summit. Every year, thousands of people attempt the climb to the summit. All of these people have one thing in common: they had to apply for a wilderness permit to enter the Mt. Whitney Zone. Because of the high traffic entering the area the Forest Service requires permits for both day-users and overnight use. The permit system runs on a “Lottery” system, although from my experience, I would call it more of a “first come, first served” type of system. Of the four times I have been on the mountain, I have never had trouble obtaining a permit. For this fifth trip, our group had a little difficulty obtaining a permit as we had eleven people. The obvious piece of advice for the permit system is that if you have a large group, apply for a permit earlier, and have backup dates available, and be aware that during the summer season and holiday weekends, it is more difficult to obtain a permit. More information about permits and the permiting system can be found here: http://www.fs.fed.us/r5/inyo/recreation/wild/mtwhitney.shtml .

Drinking only provides more harebrained ideas.

Even though I thought the crowd noise would cancel out “the idea”, as I later came to call it, (even though it was more of a proposal and less of an idea) I wasn’t worried. I wasn’t worried because it was the Pizza Port crew. For some of the regulars, the most activity they engaged in was a pickup game of volleyball and a night of lifting pint glasses. (But to be fair, there were some people that made up the crowd that ran marathons, competed in triathlons, and leaped tall buildings in their spare time).

So, when someone enthusiastically followed my off-the-cuff suggestion with a hearty, “Let’s do it!!!”, which was then echoed by several other voices, I nearly slopped beer all over myself in surprise. After everyone had finished laughing, I looked at the table of people who now “wanted” to climb Whitney. Everyone had a glass in their hands, and aside from Lumonox, no one seemed worried. I figured it would be rude to laugh at the proposal as people appeared to be taking it seriously – or as seriously as one could take ideas or proposals after several drinks. Diplomatically, I tried to explain the climb in detail – twenty two miles of hiking; large amounts of altitude gain and roving, hungry bears.

But, despite my description, only two people decided that they were no longer going to attempt the climb. The matter, however, was put off by Lumonox, who, having turned around on the trail before, knew what I was talking about. Despite “the idea” being tabled, I found myself put upon to start an “exploratory e-mail list” and look into obtaining a permit. Much later, when I arrived at home, I laughed at “the idea” as I got ready for bed. I told myself that it would never happen, and rolled over and went to sleep.

The next day, in good faith, during my lunch hour, I sent out the “exploratory e-mail”. Within the next few hours, I realized just how wrong my opinion had been as I had received around twenty or so replies of “very interested” people to my e-mail. Since it wasn’t the first time I had been way off, I took it in stride – a disbelieving stride – and moved on. That Thursday, I was there to answer questions about Whitney, and the next Thursday after that as well. For a short while, it was all people wanted to talk about. I took that in stride too. I figured it was just the latest Thursday fad, and sooner or later, my list of twenty would drop to a list of one (myself), and then I could call the whole thing off, as I had already done it before and had no reason to go do it alone again.

For a while, I felt that this second theory was sound. I kept reminding people that I would eventually have to get a permit for the trip, and they would have to pay fifteen dollars for their share of the permit. This financial disincentive shaved the list in half. I was then left with a list of a “solid” twelve people, along with some peripheral players who lived out of state and who supposedly were also really interested in attending. As summer faded, people from the dozen (or the “Dirty Dozen”, as I liked to call them) started to give me cash. I realized that I would have to make the reservation for the permit. Since the deliberations to go had taken a whopping eight or so odd-weeks, our window for climbing the mountain had moved from late summer to early fall.

Finding a permit was complicated by two factors: we had a large group, and we were going to do the climb over a two day period. Despite my continued warnings, I had been unable to lower the group below twelve. Based on my previous experiences, I knew that the group as a whole could not do the climb in a single day. I also didn’t want this climb to turn into some sort of prolonged multi-day multi-summit attempt debacle, so I wanted to keep our timeframe short and simple. As a result, I had strongly suggested that we do the climb over two days, a motion that had been ratified by the rest of the Dirty Dozen. With these parameters, the best permit I could get before winter fell was for the weekend of October 19-20, 2007.

Since I had the money in hand, and the trek had been delayed by the group’s indecision for a long time, I decided to place both feet and hands in the fire, and made the reservation. The next week, when I brandished the reservation at the table, half the group was thrilled, while the other half looked decidedly nervous. As I answered questions from the half that appeared to care, or at least had a passing interest in surviving the climb with all their appendages intact, I realized that whether I thought it was a bad idea or not, and whether I wanted to or not, I had unofficially been selected to lead the first mountaineering expedition that left from Pizza Port.

A good conversation is a hard thing to find…

Once my nerves had settled down over a multi-week period, and I had finally established by my place as at least a quasi-regular, I began to enjoy the conversations of the Thursday night Pizza Port sessions almost more than the food. Don’t get me wrong – there was nothing bad about having a cold pint of stout in one hand and a slice of wheat crust pie in the other, but the downside was that those only provided brief – but filling comforts. The conversation, on the other hand, filled my soul for the later part of the week. It provided me with emotional sustenance after the daily grind where meaningless phrases were bantered around at work. Sometimes, the conversation even provided mental leftovers to ponder on the drive home or tidbits that I could relate to other parties later

The conversation was absolutely free-flowing and completely random. It was always peppered with questions from far sections of the table as people had to deftly maneuver their ears to hear exactly what was said over the general ruckus of the crowd. Inevitably, the conversation was punctuated with raucous laughter, derisive, sarcastic comments, and good natured banter. It was the ultimate stream-of-consciousness creature, morphing from the elephant of sports talk (always about the Padres or Chargers, of course) to the serpent of work related news, or to the white rabbit of philosophical questions. There was also plenty of time spent admiring the brightly colored birds that were the stories of recent trips people had taken, spiced up with entertaining personal reminiscences.

That week, whatever week it was, at some point in the mid-summer of 2007, when “the idea” arose, the topics had already been all across the board. If I remember correctly, and I might not, we had already discussed the merits of the fifth spot in the Padres rotation – Greg Maddux or David Wells; various types of cheese from California to Wisconsin; the philosophy of Ayn Rand as it applied to gaming, and several other items. I was seated next to Nutsmatic, who was relating one of his short long stories when something he said made the person – whoever it was – on my other side ask me some type of question about mountaineering.

Somehow, my answer attracted the attention of Lumonox, who was sitting across from us. I didn’t quite catch what he said at the beginning of his statement, but at the end he most definitely said, “…and I went to Whitney, but it was really difficult and my Dad I just didn’t make it to the summit”. Just as I was about to nod sympathetically and say, “Yeah, Whitney is a really hard climb; I’ve done it a lot”, E-Rock jumped into the fray, and casually mentioned how he had always wanted to climb Whitney. The person next to him wanted to know who was mountain climbing, and across from her, someone asked what we were climbing, which in turn caused Nutsmatic to pause his story momentarily and smack me on the shoulder and ask why he hadn’t been invited to climb the mountain with everyone.

All I could do was laugh. It was a bad telephone chain all over again. It had happened that evening for the tenth time, and for the sixty-seventh time that month. I then tried to explain that it was a difficult climb and that, as far as I knew, no one was planning to climb the mountain. But, for some strange reason, I felt compelled to leave the option to climb the mountain open with the group, so I said, “but we could do it, if we wanted to”. I wasn’t sure why I said it, but I was sure that no one would ever follow up on that floating concept, as it was probably lost among all of the other words that were destroyed in all of the general competing Thursday night conversations.

There are only so many ridiculous excuses one can make before an appearance is necessary.

It was easy to find the bar because I had been there before. Back in the day, it had been the only location on the coast that showed surfing videos or live surfing footage all day, every day, irregardless of what other people wanted to see, or what else might potentially be on the television. It didn’t matter if it was Game Seven of the World Series, final two minutes of the Superbowl, the State of the Union, or anything else. All one would ever see on the big screens there was one righteous curl after another. I had never had a bad time there, but nothing memorable had ever happened either. I expected to go in, have a quick beer, shoot the breeze, and head out, probably all within an hour – or less.

Fifteen minutes after arriving at the bar’s location, I hadn’t found a parking spot on the coast highway. My circling, however, was giving me a great opportunity to curse repetitively. Eventually I found a spot, and headed past the throngs of people seated outside, and stumbled through the wooden doors into the bar, into a teeming, chaotic mass of people. I must have looked completely dumfounded. For some stupid reason, I had thought that the place would be pretty much empty. Since I felt completely out of my element, I did what anyone would do in a similar situation: I sidled up to the bar and tried to act normal. By the time I found a place on the bar, I had managed to get in the way of three people in the beer line, and one waitress clearing tables. It was obvious that I was blending in with the crowd like a person wearing black socks with shorts.

Just when I was about to start crying into the unknown beer I had ordered and be branded as the creepy bar outcast for that Thursday night, I felt the familiar tap on my shoulder, along with the distinctive words, “Hey cool guy, glad you could make it!” I smiled, relieved that I was not going to be the bar pariah, and glad that Lumonox had found me. From there, it was all downhill. He led me back to the endless wooden picnic table benches that I remembered, and introduced me to ten or so people that I had never met before and whose names I forgot in about five minutes. But, over the din of several hundred concurrent conversations going on, I started talking, and before I knew it, it was four hours later, and our group was closing down the bar.

It took me a couple of days for the whole experience to fully distill into my bones – maybe it was the wheat crust on the pizza or the good micro-brewed bear, but since it was such a good time, I came back the next week, and the week after that, and while not the week after that, I came back the week after that. Soon, I was blocking out the space on my calendar; and after that I was dragging along other friends of mine to come join the crowd. It was only after the summer volleyball season prior to bar time had ended that I really could fully grasp what was going on at the bar.

What was really going on was that Lumonox and B-rad had created was Cheers. It was Cheers, but with one exception. It was a thousand times better. The obvious reason that it was better was that it was real life, and neither I – or anyone else that was there on a weekly basis had to fantasize or critique about how we would act in a similar television show! What lay beyond the obvious is what made and makes it special. For starters, there was the constantly changing cast of characters. Sure, there were the regulars there every week – from Lumonox on down to Long Story-Short (“LSS”). But there were also the newcomers – people that other people brought, or other people that just were sucked into whatever heated discussion we were having that night. There was always someone new to meet, something new to discuss, or someone to catch up with.

The more I thought about it, it became clear to me that what they had created was an actual network. Not one of those ethereal, “I have hundreds of surreal friends” networks, and not one of those serious business networks. What it was a flesh and blood, from thin-air varied conglomeration of people passing through life and sharing the experience with others. It was something that could only exist at this moment and yet keep going forward indefinitely. It was something that would never succeed with any definite rules or regulations, but was full of inside jokes and laughter.

It made me think of two things I had read but never appreciated as a college student. It made me think of Alexis De Toqueville talking about how such interconnected groups was what made America unique over two hundred years ago. And it made me think of how Nietzsche described the act of creation and the created work as beautiful. But most of all, it made me feel incredibly lucky that I was a part of something alive and real. So despite my skepticism, and despite my hatred of Cheers, the reader knows where to find me every Thursday – pizza and beer. I’m the one at the end of the picnic table with the loud laugh and the outrageous stories. So, as Lumonox says, “Pizza Port – this Thursday!”. We’ll plan on seeing you there. And if not, I encourage you to find your own Pizza Port – because chances are, its already out there waiting for you.