Backpacking Report: Mount Whitney Trail

At 14,505 feet, Mt. Whitney stands as the tallest mountain in the contiguous United States.  Its status as such is the main attraction for thousands of adventurers who come from all over the map to hike this 10.7-mile trail that rises 2.75 miles above sea level.  This, too, is what initially grabbed my attention and sparked my interest/obsession in hiking Whitney.  After having successfully negotiated the painstaking process - initiated all the way back in February - of securing an overnight reservation, on the morning of September 26th I was westbound to lay claim to my permit and embark on what I consider The Mother of All Hikes.

View from the Eastern Sierra Visitor Center

Permits are picked up at the Eastern Sierra Visitor Center, about a mile or so south of Whitney Portal Road on Highway 395.  This is a quick and pain-free process in which Forest Service employees touch on the rules of the trail and issue Wag Bags (yes, everything is packed out - I mean, everything).  With me, the Ranger emphasized the importance of never cutting switchbacks.  He mentioned it a couple of times, which I thought was odd.  But two days and countless switchbacks later, I began to understand why he had driven this point home.  By then, a long switchback was even less appealing than another bag of trail mix.

Switchbacks weren't on my mind as I pulled away from the visitor center with permit in hand.  My excitement really began to build as I advanced toward the trailhead along Whitney Portal Road.  This was my first time seeing the Sierra Nevadas in person, and what a truly imposing sight it is to behold.  The signs along the road informing visitors they have entered into bear country added to the mystique of the moment and signaled it was time to begin focusing on the task at hand.  I was firing on all cylinders.

Whitney Portal Overflow Parking

The portal itself is nestled among tall pines in a valley surrounded by impressive rugged granite mountains.  I was there early enough to enjoy a couple of sandwiches I had packed and tour the portal grounds, including the Whitney Portal Store.  As day ceded to night, it became time to stow my food in one of the many bear lockers (a requirement) and stretch out in the back of the Tahoe.  Once I was settled in, I was amazed at how still everything seemed to get.  Because it's the furthest parking lot from the trailhead, the overflow lot is your best bet if you are in need of some peace and quiet before beginning your ascent in the morning.

Waterfall at the Whitney Portal

By 8:15 the following morning I had weighed my pack at the trailhead (48 pounds - heavy, I know) and started the nearly eleven-mile trek to the highest point in the lower 48.  Switchbacks are what I remember most about the trail, and not just the infamous 99 switchbacks above Trail Camp.  I'm talking the entire length of the trail, switchbacks are what stand out in my memory.  Of course, you have to have them - they're a necessary evil - but by the time I was coming down the mountain, I was cursing every one of them.  On the climb up, the forced march over all of these dastardly switchbacks is tempered by the freedom you feel as you inch further and further away from civilization.  Keep your feet on the trail and allow your mind to get lost in your surroundings, as there are visual rewards at practically every turn.  Sometimes it's a stream or a lake, other times it's a meadow.  On a couple of occasions there were deer feeding right at the trail's edge.  And always, there are mountains.  It is the most spectacular scenery I have ever encountered.

Lone Pine Lake

When I arrived at Outpost Camp, it was time for a break.  I plopped down on a rock adjacent to the trail and met several folks heading down, including a 67-year-old and two 71-year-olds, who had all summited.  For me, just days away from turning 47, that was encouraging.  Inspiring as their story was, they did give me fair warning that the trail between here and Trail Camp was not quite as friendly as it had been up to this point.  "But it's doable," the 67-year-old told me.  That wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear.  Still 2.2 miles away from Trail Camp, I was beginning to feel fatigued and had failed to take into consideration how the level of difficulty would likely increase as the trail approached the tree line.  I knew my only alternative to making Trail Camp was to remain where I was now, at Outpost Camp, nearly 7 miles away from the summit.  Time wasn't an issue, as it wasn't quite noon, so I put aside my doubts, got back under my pack and resumed the climb to Trail Camp.

Icy waterfall at Outpost Camp

The section of trail above Outpost Camp was a bit of a struggle for me.  I'd walk a bit and pause, walk a bit and pause.  After a couple hours of this, hikers heading down would confirm I was getting close to camp, yet camp never appeared on the horizon.  So the walking and pausing continued.  Through it all,  the magnificent scenery remained.  In particular, Mirror Lake and a little splash of green known as Trailside Meadow high above the tree line are two points along this part of the trail worth mentioning.

When a body of water I recognized as Consultation Lake came into view, I knew my destination lay just ahead.  Back at the Visitor Center, the Ranger had suggested I find an established site outside of Trail Camp in order to avoid the large population of marmots living there and known for being a nuisance.  I also did not want to be disturbed in the middle of the night by noisy campers prepping for their pre-dawn summit bids.  With this in mind, when I spied a level piece of ground neatly tucked between a pair of rock walls just below Trail Camp, I knew instantly this is where I would pitch my tent.  Now eight minutes past two o'clock, it had taken almost six hours to travel nearly six miles on the trail.

Mirror Lake

Trailside Meadow

My tent was close to a small tarn, perhaps a tad too small to be considered a prime source for drinking water.  I had read remaining active at camp was a recommended strategy to avoid the effects of altitude sickness, so I walked down a bit to the edge of Consultation Lake to filter water.  This is another noteworthy feature of the Mt. Whitney Trail.  I understand trout are in this lake, and at least one fish was actively splashing about while I was there.  The water here is clear, cold, and refreshing.

Consultation Lake

Campsite - small tarn is barely visible in the distance

Back at camp I visited for a while with a gentleman who was taking a breather by the trail before his final, short push to Trail Camp.  He was carrying 70 pounds of gear and equipment on his back to complete what sounded like a fairly complicated musical compilation project on the summit the following day.  My heavy pack was light in comparison, though there was certainly room for improvement.  This experience taught me that next time I do not need to carry so much food.  I didn't eat half of what I brought due to the suppressive effect high altitude has on appetite.  There is little doubt I entered into a caloric deficit on this trip, but I just wasn't hungry enough to consume the amount of food I should have.

The weather at 12,000 feet on the morning of my summit was beautiful.  The sun was out, the winds were calm, and the water in my backpack wasn't even frozen.  I was on the trail at 8:30 a.m. with a day pack and trekking poles.  I never owned trekking poles prior to this hike, but these things sure turned out to be a Godsend - not for hiking but for leaning against when I wasn't hiking.  Straight out of Trail Camp, hikers are ushered up the mountain via the 99 grueling switchbacks.  As I zig-zagged up the mountain, I wasn't too concerned about my pace.  The name of the game here is to simply keep moving.  It would not have served any useful purpose to calculate the effect these switchback were having on mph or estimate how many vertical feet remained.  On the 99s, it's simply a matter of left right, left right until you reach Trail Crest.

The views from Trail Crest are stunning

Peeping through one of the "windows" along Trail Crest

At sea level, hiking Trail Crest would be a piece of cake.  Approaching 14,000 feet, however, I found the going was slow and laborious.  I spotted the roof of the shelter on Whitney's summit, but I was unenthused, as it was still far off in the distance.  While resting trailside a little later, a passing hiker asked if the altitude was getting to me.  Maybe it appeared obvious to him, but I was quick to answer, "No."  I didn't consider that a lie, as I was experiencing no symptoms of altitude sickness.  I was, however, pushing myself to my physical limitations, and I believe the thin air was the primary contributing factor.

About the time I thought I would never get there, I glanced up from the path to see the shelter and several hikers milling about the summit in full view.  The feeling was indescribable.  Still minutes away from actually summiting, this particular moment was the highlight of my whole summit experience.  I relate it to the feeling you get when you leave work on a Friday afternoon.  The anticipation of the weekend is in many cases better than the weekend itself.

Finally!

Looking back at Trail Crest from the summit

Hiker signing the register at the summit of Mt. Whitney

After 30 minutes or so on the summit, it was time to begin the descent.  My permit was good for one more day, but I had been toying with the notion of packing up my belongings and continuing to the portal so I could sleep more comfortably before my nearly 8-hour drive home the next day.  Doing so would also give me an earlier jump in the morning and hopefully have me in my driveway ahead of the Friday afternoon Phoenix traffic. So I hurried down the mountain, now using my trekking poles with nearly every step to unburden my aching knees and calves as much as possible.

I know rushing back down the trail to the parking lot detracted from my overall experience, and I wouldn't recommend doing this.  The takeaway is that if I am fortunate enough to get back to Whitney next year, I will take full advantage of the third day and slow down to have a look around at some of the sights I breezed past, such as Lone Pine Lake.  The Mount Whitney Trail, I learned, is not just a one-trick pony.  It offers so much more than a summit, and it's a real shame to deny yourself any of what this glorious trail has to offer.

The beauty of the Mt. Whitney Trail is a faithful companion