Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Highpoint #40: California


The Highest Point in the Lower 48 States!!


After hiking to the highest point in Nevada, I went up to Mt. Shasta for my next climb.  Sadly, the top of Mt. Shasta is not the highest point in California though it is a spectacular climb in its own right.  The reason for the deviation was that I thought it would be a good opportunity to review my crevasse rescue skills and have another glacier climb under my belt in preparation for Denali (the highpoint of Alaska).  This is definitely something I need to start thinking about more seriously as I near the final stretch of states to highpoint. 

My Shasta climb consisted of spending four days on the Hotlum glacier which was technically challenging and wonderful -- it was a great summit for me!  My guide from SWS was very capable, and I just had a great experience out there.  With two summits in the bag and the technical climbing portion of the trip out of the way, I was feeling pretty good.  All that I needed to do now was just drive down to Lone Pine, CA for a hike up the Whitney trail to the top of Mt. Whitney to wrap this trip up.  Of course, the devil is in the details. 

Mt. Whitney is a beautiful mountain in its own right and worthy of a climb.  More than beauty, the mountain has other attractive features.  For one, its summit is the highest point in the lower 48 states.   Also, at an elevation of 14,505 feet, it is a California 14er, making it part of a coveted list among climbers.  For thru-hikers, the summit is the southern end of the John Muir Trail.  It is also nearby the High Sierras Trail.  More than that, it is simultaneously located in a National Park and a National Forest.  For all of these reasons and more, this mountain sees MANY would-be hikers; in fact, too many.  As such, a very strict permitting system is in place. 

The permit system is conducted as a lottery.  Back in February, I registered online for a selection of dates and passes (both overnight and day use only).  I crossed my fingers a few weeks later when they determined who was lucky enough to climb this year and who was not.  Certain particular dates saw literally hundreds of applications.  The result?  None of my selections was approved for a permit!  I was dumbfounded.  I avoided weekends, and I picked dates that were not so popular the year before (they have historical data on their website) and still no success.  Fortunately, I remained persistent.  A few days later, I was able to snag a date in late August that had just opened up on their website.  With a guaranteed permit, I cashed in my airline miles and booked a set of flights.  It is hard to believe that a day hike could take several months of planning, but that just shows how popular this mountain really is. 

Day-Use Permit (Overnight Permits are Blue)
Since I had a single day permit, I was required to pick it up the day before my hike at the Eastern Sierra Interagency Visitor Center, no later than noon.  I made the early morning drive down to Lone Pine, and I was able to secure my permit within a matter of minutes from the office.  I now had the rest of the day to kill, since my hike could not technically begin until midnight. 

The Trailhead:   Many Hours Before Midnight = Long Wait

The Trail Starts Off Gently...

























After a quick lunch and a stop to pick up spare batteries for my headlamp, I drove up the Whitney Portal road.  Nearly every single parking space leading up to the trailhead was taken by hikers and climbers currently out on the mountain.   Fortunately, I was able to snag a fairly decent parking space that someone just left.  I still had most of the day to wait through, so I decided to better acquaint myself with my surroundings.  This mostly consisted of me verifying the location of the trailhead and visiting the excellent store located right next to it which has all of the last minute gear needs, souvenirs, and food that one could want.  I read for a while, had dinner at the store, and took a nap.


Something to Consider as Midnight Approaches


I woke up at 1am, prepared my daypack, and made my way to the trailhead for a 1:30am start.  I had a 22 mile hike (roundtrip) ahead of me with more than 6000 feet of elevation gain.  This was going to be a demanding day!

Hike is Underway!  Crossing Lone Pine Creek

Of course, the “day” portion of the hike was still a few hours off from this ungodly hour.  What I had before me was a hike by the light of my headlamp.  There were two hikers some distance ahead of me, and eventually I noticed a group of hikers some distance behind me.  Given the wide spacing, for all intents and purposes, I was hiking in solitude which was not something I was expecting with all of the demand to climb this mountain.  So a good tip for the would-be hiker, start earlier than everyone else!

The Only Thing to See at Night is the Signs
There was not much to see in the dark.  I just kept following the trail which persistently led upwards.  I crossed a couple of streams, made my way properly into the John Muir wilderness, and even negotiated a series of logs set up as balance beams.  There is nothing like a test of balance in the early hours of the night! 

Only Those With Balance May Pass
 
I finally made it into the Whitney zone.  I would need my permit from this point onward; though, as you might imagine, there was no one around to verify if I had a permit or not.  Sometimes it just comes down to the honor system with this stuff. 


Where's the Park Ranger?


From this point, I still could not make out much about the trail, though it did seem to be a bit rockier.  I also was making my way around very large rock features, and occasionally the “trail” was not so obvious.  A few times I would double back and try to see if the route I was on was slightly more plied than any of the alternatives.  I lost a little bit of time doing this, naturally, but that’s how it goes under the cover of night. 


I Can't Imagine the Labor to Build This Trail


I eventually made it to a large clearing.  The slope was noticeably gentler for a little while, and I passed by a lake and a motley group of tents (presumably the high camp).  On the other side of the lake, I reached the mountain range.  Now I began climbing up the side of the mountain via a feature known as the “99 Switchbacks”.  A well-named feature, it was.  Back and forth, back and forth, without relent, I made my way slowly up the mountain. 


What a View!


About a third of the way up, the sun began to rise.  The early light slowly draped the landscape before me, making the lake fully visible and prominently bringing into relief the sharp lines of the surrounding mountains.  As the foreground came into focus, the background of stars soon disappeared.  I managed to take a picture right at this transition point that really captured the beauty of the place that I was exploring. 


The Only Section of the Trail with "Railing"


When the sun rose, light flooded into every corner of the mountain range.  I could now see the challenge of what lied ahead for the first time.  Fortunately, I was most of the way up at this point, so it was not so overwhelming. 


Trail Crest!  Close, Yet Not So Close
I kept pushing onward without any breaks, and after the 99 switchbacks I found myself at the “Trail Crest”.  My elevation was 13,600’, and I was now entering Sequoia National Park.  At this point, I worked my way around the backside of the mountain.

View On the Other Side

Just to be cruel, the trail quickly loses a bit of elevation on this backside until one reaches a sign indicating that the summit is a mere 1.9 miles away. 


Sign Gives False Hope that One is Close to the Summit
Let me just say for the record that this is arguably the longest 1.9 miles I have ever covered in my life.  I wasn’t tired from the effort at this point, but making my way through this stretch did feel unending.  It was quite rocky and quite winding.  The circuitous route just kept updating my direction, so many times so, that I was no longer sure which peak around me was the true summit. 


 

Where is This Path Taking Me?

The Summit is Straight Ahead; the Path is Not











































Continuing on, I did see the outline of the summit hut in the distance.  I trudged on more quickly and made my way closer and closer to the objective.  Of course, the path was not direct, and, sure enough, I found myself working around the backside of that peak as well before making my way up the final stretch to the summit. 

Final Approach to the Summit Hut
I walked past the summit hut, to a plaque commemorating the trail.  Amazingly, the entire trail was built in just two years! 


The Highest Trail in the United States

Just beyond the plaque, I found the USGS markers marking the highest point in the lower 48 states.  And just beyond that, I had the most magnificent views of my entire trip.  There were blue skies in every direction and not even the slightest trace of wind.  Wow!  After seven hours of effort, the landscape had changed dramatically.  I really basked in the grandeur of this place – it was just so beautiful!

Is There a Bad View Up Here?

I Think Not!





































After the reverie, I got down to business.  I sought out the different geological markers.  There were two markers from 1928 with a simple line across the middle. 

USGS Benchmark Marker U43 (1928) 


USGS Benchmark Marker K72 (1928)



















There was another marker from 1950 with the triangle in the middle (a benchmark marker).  Finally, I saw a 4th marker that was all but destroyed. 

USGS Marker with Triangle (1950)

Yet, Another USGS Marker





































I took the benchmark marker from 1950 as being the true highpoint since it was placed later in time, and I took a vanity shot beside it.  Why does this place have so many markers?


Vanity Shot at Summit Marker (One of Many Markers Apparently)


I also made my way around the summit hut, and I signed the register in front of it.  This was my 40th state highpoint!  There were two doors to the hut, but only one of them is open.  The room inside is quite basic, and it just serves as emergency shelter for the hiker who perhaps did not plan so well. 

View Inside Summit Hut
This summit was not one that I was quick to leave.  After even more reflection and a proper food break, I steeled myself for the unending descent that lied before me.  Of course, now everything was quite a bit easier.  I was literally bounding down the trail, covering that endless section of 1.9 miles in no time at all.  Sure enough though, I had one uphill section to contend with to reach the trail crest.  From there, I was nearly skipping down the 99 switchbacks.  Amazingly though, my right boot found one piece of ice that was still remaining, and I nearly took a spill.  So even in August, you still must be mindful of the conditions. 

On the Descent, Past the Switchbacks and the Lakes
I made my way past the lake and down into the valley.  The sun was becoming intense, so I started shedding some layers.  What I was amazed by though was just how different this trail seemed in daylight.  The path definitely seemed more rugged now, and the landscape was less featured than I expected.  It looked like a hard slog, but, again, I was descending at this point, so the hard part was truly behind me. 

I Missed Some Great Stuff Hiking Up in the Dark
I finally made it back to the trailhead at 3pm.  I made my way over to the store again and picked up a t-shirt and a coffee mug to properly commemorate the trip.  I walked down to the car, deposited my pack, took off my boots, and I already had someone waiting to park in my parking space.  This place is popular!  I drove slowly down the Whitney Portal road to the town of Lone Pine reflecting on just how amazing this hike was!  What a memorable day and it could not have been more perfect.  This strange hobby of mine is really taking me to some amazing places.  I like that.   With this trip over and 3 summits in the bag, the question is where I should travel to next?     

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