King of California

"The most divinely inspired mountains..."

This was our second trip to the Sierras. Our first journey was to hike the JMT. This trip was about finishing what we started last year. On our last day on the JMT, we were barred from the summit of Mt Whitney by a lightning storm. We walked off the crest and down the mountain with our heads held high and spirits ready to rest. With over a year past since our JMT hike we felt our desire to stand on top of Whitney had laid dormant long enough. Only this time, we wanted to climb her east face.

The East Face as seen from Whitney Portal

Mt Whitney is a stunning mountain from any angle. Driving from Death Valley, we were fortunate enough to witness the sun steadily creeping over the back of the mountain. We wanted little more than to start our climb after coming from a retreat off Castleton Tower so we decided to get our permits and hike to the base.

It's hard to capture the full beauty of this valley

We were both acquainted with the area enough to know our way around the mountain and its foothills so we paid little attention to specific directions to the start of our climb. We assumed that our climb started from the base of the ridgeline that leads to the summit. Any glance at a map and a logical mind could have figured this out so we trudged on up the trail into the night. We reached the base of the ridgeline at around 10pm and made camp.

A view of Alabama Hills at dusk

A view of the big dipper with Whitney's spine in the background

I didn’t sleep much that night. I was too excited about the anticipation of standing on the summit. I tossed and turned until the sun started to come up. As I stepped out of the tent that morning the view reminded me of how much I love the Sierras. I was able to capture this panorama of our campsite.

 

We got an early start to our day knowing full well the importance of haste in attempting big climbs but in our morning duties we failed to fuel ourselves properly. My mind reverted to our previous year’s jaunt in the mountains but my body could not keep up. We had gone from Death Valley, below sea level, to 13,000 feet in only a few hours. After several hours of grueling talus and low fifth class approach we realized our heartbreaking mistake. We were over 12 miles off course and at the same time, only a valley away.

Resting at a water stop on our approach to Thor Peak

Our navigational error had spawned only 1 mile into our trek when we failed to take the correct trail that led up the east face drainage. This trail was unmarked and as we found out later, not talked about much in online climbing resources. By 10am we stood on the spine of Thor Peak, just one spire over from the east face of Whitney. We were so close but our goal was blocked by a 500 foot rappel and another talus ravine that would have forced us to leave behind gear. With no energy or will to leave our expensive friends behind, we once again decided to throw in the towel.

On our climb down Thor Peak, I said to Taryn “I’m disappointed in myself for jumping into this but if ever there was a place to be disappointed, this is it.” In all my excitement of reaching the summit, I neglected to look around me and take the beauty in. Now was the time.

We hiked down the mountain unwilling, at least then, to make the difficult trek up the correct east face drainage. We wanted food and our nose bleeds to go away. On our decent we talked with a ranger who informed us of the correct location of the east face drainage trail. He said that we were the second party he spoke with that day who made the same mistake we did (only they corrected their mistake sooner). He also informed us that we did what is called the “Pinnacle Ridge Traverse”. In our post trip research we learned this ridgeline seldom sees traffic due to its out-of-the-way location. I thought that was pretty cool! After good conversation and company we parted ways with our new ranger friend and went to the first McDonald’s we found. Junk food always tastes better after days at altitude

We decided to move our focus to the Lake Tahoe area near Sacramento where we planned to meet a friend in a few days. This gave us a chance to climb big rocks without the debilitating effects of altitude that takes time to adjust to. Much like the main character in the song “King of California” our ambitious plan crumbled when faced with reality. It seemed my brother’s adage about nature never failed us on this trip.