Country Mouse and Shadow's Travels: Mt. Whitney

Our victory lap includes climbing Mt. Whitney. The highest peak in the Lower 48s. The trail from Forrester to the Whitney side trail is a section we know well. We have hiked it North in a snow storm full of anticipation, then South after a storm in defeat, and now South again full of piss and vinegar.

A short 11 miles day put us at Guitar Lake (10,500 feet), 4 miles from the peak. This is a major staging point which we were not aware. There are more hikers here than we have seen in a day. Everyone is enjoying the last piece of the Sierras. Shadow is fishing and I am relaxing near the lake in the grass.

The last couple days we have woken to the smell of smoke. Other hikers have told us about multiple wildfires in California. Two are on the PCT. One in Big Bear and one near Tahoe. There is also one just outside the Sierras. Looks like this could be a challenge as the Summer continues.

Being that we have been on the trail for 9 days, it's normal to be craving "real food". Shadow said last night that he wants a big juicy cheese burger with fries and onion rings. Beer too, of course. I would be content with the bigger jar of Nutella and a spoon, but a steak topped with blue cheese and a glass of red wine would work too.

At 2:30am we woke like everyone else here at Guitar Lake to climb Mt. Whitney. I imagine Mt. Everest to be similar, on a larger scale. Except that you can poop on Everest. Here you have to poop in a bag, then carry it out. This will be our last climb because we are taking the bus back the Chester, Ca (halfway point) to continue North to Canada. Technically you need a permit to descend the East side (town side) of Whitney. For us we didn't know what date would be here. To avoid any problems a park ranger wrote a hall pass on the back of our permit just in case we were stopped on the way down.

With nothing but granite below and stars above we began our 3,500 foot climb to the highest peak in the lower 48. The morning's first light was a beautiful sight. By sun rise we had made it to the ridge line walk to the historic hut at the summit. This was the highest I had ever climbed and wasn't sure how the altitude would affect me. 700 vertical feet from the top my brain and body felt like they were working in molasses. A little bit of hypoxia was setting in. Every movement slowed down similar to the practice of Tai Chi. We grabbed a snack and shot some photos before beginning the long hike down to the portal (road to town). Good thing we got a hall pass because less then 10 yards down the trail was a ranger checking permits. "I've got my permit, my bear box, and my turds sir." Is what I wanted to say but didn't.

It was only 9 miles down, but felt like eternity. All I wanted was real food and to talk to my family. Everything was on empty, our belly's, our strength, our hydration. It was time for a couple days off.

At Guitar Lake last night we met two guys hiking the JMT. We hit it off with them and saw them again after we choked down our cheeseburger, fries, beer, and soda at the portal store. They were nice enough to give us a ride into town. Like Shadow says, "Sometimes you meet people that speak your own language." This was the case with Harry Malamute and Comrade Mike. I had talked up my blue cheese steak and they were up for a celebratory dinner that night. Turns out Loran was in town as well. So he joined us too. It's so nice to come into a new town and have friends.