- Today’s miles: 15.5 miles
- Ascent: 3,914 ft
- Descent: 6,560 ft
- Total Miles on Trip: 225.1
Beep! Beep! Beep! I hear the alarm clock on my watch piercing through the dead and cold silence of the night. I take a look and it reads 3:17 A.M. For a second, I forget why I set an alarm at this ungodly hour. Ah yes. It’s the last day of our hike and time to climb Mt. Whitney. The early start should have us all the way to the top of the mountain (14,505 feet) by mid-morning.
With a full moon, a headlamp is hardly necessary as I stuff my belongings into my pack. The air is cool but warmer than I anticipated. I face the difficult decision of filling my water bottle at the nearby creek before leaving. Go thirsty or numb hands? The rationale part of my brain wins out and I dip my water bottle into the creek. Sure enough, I can’t feel my right hand as we leave camp.
Kevin leads the way with a headlamp as the moon shines brightly in exposed areas. I turn off my light and allow my eyes to adjust. It’s eerily silent at this hour and I think of how accustomed I have grown to the background noise of nature. Birds singing, rivers flowing, insects buzzing have become the norm to my ears. None of those exist right now and all I hear is the shuffling of our feet.
We reach Guitar Lake at 4:45 A.M. Often if people are hiking Mt. Whitney from our direction, they will make camp at Guitar Lake the night before. Although we don’t see any tents currently at the lake, we see headlamps bobbing up the mountain. These hikers may have the chance of seeing the sunrise from the top of Mt. Whitney. Kevin and I begin the only path that is available to us- up. I hear the first of chirping birds a couple of ticks before 5 A.M. and shortly after the sun begins to rise. I feel strong and hike at a good pace, stopping intermittently to take a swig of my protein coffee.
The day begins to warm and I see a sign in the distance. We haven’t reached the summit of Mt. Whitney already right? No, the sign tells us the summit is another 1.9 miles. I count seven packs, some old some new, that are neatly tucked away patiently awaiting for their owners to return. It’s an out-and-back to the summit of Mt. Whitney from here and Kevin and I consider ditching our packs with the rest. I don’t know what I’ll need or want at the top and they are so light right now what’s another few miles? Also, I think, my pack deserves to see the summit. I wonder not for the first time if it’s possible to develop separation anxiety with an inanimate object such as a backpack.
The mountain makes a couple of hairy traverses with nothing but rock and a fall to the side of us. We do our best to avoid the large icy patches of snow, maneuvering off trail when needed. There’s not too much left by now, early July, but enough to keep you aleart.
At last, I spot a square shelter in the distance. The top of Mt. Whitney! Kevin and I walk past the shelter where we can see for what feels like forever. Face one way and you see other mountains that you would swear are as high as Whitney. Turn around and you are treated to desert terrain, with the small town of Lone Pine in the horizon. So this is what 14,000+ feet feels like, I think.
After taking in the views, Kevin and I high-five and embrace in a bro-style hug. Because this marks the end of our trip right!? We did it- hiked the John Muir trail! According to whoever decides these things, the top of Mt. Whitney marks the end of the JMT. However, it neglects the whole getting off of the mountain part. It’s another 11 miles down from the top of Mt. Whitney to Whitney Portal Road, the closest point that can be accessed by car. I’m curious why the climb down to Whitney Portal Road isn’t considered part of the JMT, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. What is the Shakespeare quote? “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” It doesn’t really matter where I think the JMT ends- we still need to get to Whitney Portal Road.
There is no rush though and I enjoy the first cell service I have had in over a week. I call my parents and let them know we made it to the top, and a host of other text messages flood my phone. It’s just myself, Kevin, and another hiker named Randall at the top of the summit for the next hour, and I’m amazed there are not more people around. Randall takes our picture and shares some of his knowledge about the surrounding neighboring peaks.
The wind picks up and it seems there is nothing left to do but begin the descent down. We soon reach an area called “99 switchbacks”. Kevin vows to do 99 spin moves, one at each switchback, and stays true to his word longer than I expected. Maybe he keeps spinning but I cease noticing even though he is right in front of me. It’s hot and rocky as we descend down the exposed terrain. We soon come behind a man who looks to be hiking with his son and we inquire if they know anything about the shuttle that runs from Mt. Whitney to Lone Pine. “Sorry guys. I don’t think it’s running,” the man says with a look of sympathy on his face. Kevin’s parents won’t be here until tomorrow so we need to figure out how to get from Whitney Portal to Lone Pine, where we can crash in a motel.
“But I’ll tell you what. If you guys get down there and it’s not running, we can help you out. My wife is waiting down there to pick us up and we can drop you in Lone Pine.”
He gives us a description of the car and Kevin and I thank him enthusiastically. Whoo-oo! The offer lifts my spirts as Kevin and I continue our trek. So close! I debate whether I want to get food down at Whitney Portal (we heard there is a small restaurant) or wait until we get to Lone Pine. Ah, the tough decisions.
As Kevin and I get closer and closer to Whitney Portal, the number of day hikers increases exponentially. An elder man gives us a long and detailed description of an osprey he saw at one of the nearby lakes. After a few minutes of hearing him talk, I lose track of the story. Is he now talking about a different time he saw an osprey? He is still talking when Kevin and I politely wave and begin hiking away. He doesn’t seem to mind as he just increases his volume as Kevin and I walk away. Kevin makes a few polite grunting noises and soon we reach a turn, which marks the end of the man’s voice.
Kevin and I reach a ridge where we can see the parking lot of Whitney Portal. Now it begins to feel real that the hike is ending. Ah! I can’t tell if the time during our trip feels like it has passed by incredibly slowly or quickly. Areas like Mammoth seemed to have happened decades ago, and yet I feel as if there should still be more trail left. We can hike more, I think! But no. This is the actual ending of the trail and trip.
Kevin and I grab a beer down at the restaurant and ask the man behind the counter if the bus is running to Lone Pine. The answer is no. No sweat, we say. Kevin and I choose a picnic table that gives us a good view of the parking lot, and we keep an eye out for the vehicle that the man described his wife as driving. After sitting for half an hour or so, I see an exact description of the car pull into the parking lot. I walk over to the vehicle and ask the lady behind the wheel if she is picking up her husband and son.
“Yes,” she says eagerly. “Did you see them?”
“Ya. I saw them a few hours ago descending down. They should be here soon.” She is very happy to receive this information and thanks me profusely for letting her know.
“One other thing,” I say with hesitancy. “He also offered a ride to my friend and I as we are trying to get to Lone Pine.” It goes without saying that’s a bit awkward telling a woman you have never met that her vehicle is being offered up for a ride.
“Oh dear,” she says with wide eyes. “We are also picking up these hikers over here,” she says pointing to a pair of hikers a hundred yards away or so. “My car only has five seats and that’d be six people.”
I try to hold back my surprise and tell her no worries. “Well, let me talk to my husband when he gets down here,” she says. “Maybe we can put you guys in the bed of the truck?” I tell her sure and point to where Kevin and I are sitting.
Another hour goes by and still no sign of the man and his son. Kevin and I discuss our options. What if when they finally do make it down they can’t give us a ride? We decide to split up and try to bum a ride from another kind person. Kevin works magic and waves down a guy with a beat-up Subaru who is about to leave the parking lot. The guy agrees to give us a ride to Lone Pine and I run over to tell the lady the news. “We got a ride from someone else. Good luck to your husband and son!” I think she’s a little relieved and waves a good-bye.
Kevin and I get dropped off a Best Western in Lone Pine and I slip the guy a $20 for gas. In our hotel room, the first thing I do is take a shower and watch the dirt and grime of being on trail slide off my body and into the drain. Kevin and I agree upon Mexican food for dinner, which turns out to be a mile walk from our hotel room to a food truck. I get a gigantic steak burrito and a side order of nachos to take back to our hotel room. The food tastes amazing and after finishing most of it, I lay down on my hotel bed. The air conditioner runs noisily and I feel a familiar impulse to check my phone. Ah, back in civilization, I think. My time on trail was nothing short of amazing and yet it feels good to be laying down with old comforts surrounding me. No reason you can’t have both right? Time spent in civilization and time spent on trail makes me appreciate the other. To have the option and luxury to slip out into the woods for a night, a few nights, or a few weeks is something I wish for everyone.
Also, special thanks to Kevin’s parents who picked us up the following day and gave us a ride back home! They brought us a cooler full of snacks that beat anything I had eaten over the past 3 weeks, town food included. The drive home was a feast of cold cheeses and meats, fresh fruit, chips and salsa, eclairs, and other delicious things I have since forgotten. They also brought a scale to see if and how much weight we lost on trail. Kevin lost 9 pounds on the JMT. I lost half a pound.
