Mt. Whitney

Last year, before I knew we'd be leaving Webb, I filed with the National Park Service for permits to hike Mt. Whitney with a group of students.  At 14,508', Mt Whitney is the highest mountain in the continental U.S.  And permits are so in demand that the Park Service has jettisoned its typical permit process and instituted a lottery.  Even with steep odds, I had to try: most of these students had hiked several 10,000 foot peaks and seemed ready to stretch their outdoor adventures to new heights.  Additionally, the timing was right. Because Whitney is often covered in snow well into June, the hiking season doesn't really start until July or August, and it just so happened that most of the hiking crew was not graduating. I studied when people apply for permits, trying to maximize our chances by applying on less popular dates (the Park Service publishes a document of how many people applied for permits for each calendar day in the previous year, and also updates the current year's applications weekly). When the Forest Service announced permit recipients later that spring, we were delighted to win the maximum number of permits for October 5.

Our group of twelve enters the John Muir Wilderness.  Spirits were high, even if our altitude wasn't.  We started from Whitney Portal, elevation 8,500'.  From left: Ms. Dahlstrom, Mr. Dahlstrom, Johnathan, Alan, Ray, Susan, Robin, Danielle, Adrian, Alvin, Brooke.

We immediately walked into autumn.  Though I applied for several September dates (denied) to avoid possible October snow, we ended up with perfect weather the entire way, and fall colors to boot.

There are still a few (very few!) places in California where water flows.

A reminder that this whole hike started with a bit of luck

There is no elevator.  No escalator.  Just your feet.  And you are going there. Actually, higher.  Because the peak is behind that.

Lone Pine Lake

In case you were lost...

The marshes of Mt. Whitney?  Why not.  The mountain seemed to have everything else.

Mirror Lake, a perfect spot for lunch.

The trail rose steeply (again) after Mirror Lake, climbing well above tree line to a landscape dominated by granite.  Below, if you can find Susan, you'll get a sense of the scale.  Click to enlarge.

Robin, Brooke, Alan, Ray, and Johnathan above Consultation Lake

We camped just past Consultation Lake, at another, unnamed lake (elevation 12,000'+).

Sunset...

...and sunrise, reflected in the lake.

After some nice warm oatmeal for breakfast, we began the climb to the ridge.

Alvin and Ms. Dahlstrom rounding one of the many switchbacks, with Consultation Lake far below.

This is the only spot along the trail with cables.  The mountain is so steep here that the trail seldom gets sunlight, resulting in ice nearly all year round.

And the switchbacks kept coming.  From our campsite to the ridge, there are 98 in all (we counted, twice).  The photo above, and the next few, are testament to the calf and quad power of our determined group.

Johnathan, Brooke, Ray, Alan, Adrian, and Robin take a break at switchback 96.  It was impossible not to be distracted by the deep blue skies as we wandered ever upward.

Finally, at Trail Crest, the end of the switchbacks, elevation 13,777'.  To the northwest are Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks, where John Muir spent some of his best wandering days.  The Muir Trail leads down from here and goes 200 miles north to Yosemite.  This is also where the Whitney Trail connects to the Pacific Crest Trail, a 2,600-mile path stretching from Canada to Mexico, through Washington, Oregon and California.

The west side of Whitney is rough and ragged.  The trail drops several hundred feet and then climbs again to reach the peak.  On the way, you jumble over and through rocks that somehow hold together to form a mountain.

If you click to enlarge this photo, you'll see some of our group wending their way through the rocks before rounding this spire.  The monolith in the far background is the peak.  

At the top is an old hut. I brought the prayer flags from Nepal.  Though they will eventually dissolve in the elements, on this day, we were fortunate to hike with clear skies and no wind.

Above and below, vistas from the peak.  We spent about a half hour, but couldn't celebrate too long.  We still had 10.5 miles to hike down before dark.

Susan and Danielle on the way back.

Somewhere in this rock field, Susan heads back toward Trail Crest.

And now on the switchbacks, with most of our group well below my shadow. 

What a hike.  Thanks to the Dahlstroms for jumping through all the hoops necessary to take such a trip, and especially to the students for their unflappable spirits the whole way.  Happy trails!