Mt. Whitney Portal Store & Hostel Forums General Mt. Whitney Portal Store Message Board Do you remember your first time?

After reading the posts on: "Do people understand what they are undertaking??" I couldn't help but wonder what went through so many of the hikers minds before their first hike. We all look forward to the posts from so many of the regulars on this board and yes, we know some of the stories of their first hike up Mt Whitney. I know Bob R's incredibly fascinating story. I was on the edge of my seat for that one. And I remember Laura's great story with her dad. But in regard to the "Do people understand what they are undertaking" thread.....what about the regulars? Did you understand? Richard P, how and why did you decide and what if any were your fears before and during your first hike of Mt Whitney? wbtravis5152? Ken? + @ti2d? MC? tomcat? George Durkee? h_lankford? and on and on.

I'm certainly kind of a semi-rookie, and most know my motivation came from cancer and a new hip. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I was lucky enough to have understanding friends, wife and family. What I want to know is what went through your mind. Thanks....Joe

Nothing edge of your seat here but great topic.

What was I thinking? Hard to remember exactly but I can piece it together a little.

My wife and I had always liked camping and fishing. One day we watched a slide show of Denali. There were folks there talking about Whitney so we decided to give it a go.

We planned for a dawn start then the day before while acclimatizing at Kearsarge Pass we met a very nice woman who had to be at least twice our age and hiking stronger than most. She said she was about to make her 18th summit, something like that. She said no way start at dawn. She said use the time and start at midnight.

So that night we sat at the portal trying to nap, which of course, is impossible with all the nervous energy. Midnight arrives and we take off, with sweat pants and sweatshirts on. Within minutes of course those are off and we're in t-shirts and shorts (August). And up we went with lousy old day packs, big old Nalgene bottles stuffed in them, heavy as can be. Sweating and grunting up the trail.

We had small flashlights since we didn't have headlamps at the time. The section with trees seemed to be a dense forest and the open sections seemed to be as vast as a prairie. Nighttime hiking plays those kinds of tricks on you when you haven't been there before. On the way down we were stunned how different the scenery looked compared to what we imagined by flashlight. Yet we were also amazed how beautiful it was.

Turn a corner near trailside meadow and feel cold wind after it being so hot down lower. Sweatshirts back on. At rest stops we gazed around with the flashlights off, in awe of the stars, peaks around us. The moon had been there early on but disappeared so now it was darker but that made it so much nicer with the stars. Just kept chugging up the trail, past trail camp, into the switchbacks, barely noticing the sunrise (by this point the only thing we were noticing was the endless nature of the switchbacks). The sun baked the trail.

We hit trail crest and stopped but not for long, there was a really stiff, cool breeze. But wow, the view was amazing.

Soon we realized the intensity of that backside of the crest. That last 2-1/2 miles was brutal. Boulder hopping, toe-stubbing trudge behind the needles. It was that section where we realized that extended breaks only made it harder. Shorter breaks and an easy, steady pace got us to the summit.

I don't think we went all the way around the bottom of the summit ridge then up. I vaguely recall getting off route around the snow field and going straight up, which was very hard after hiking all night, but we found the trail again on the way to the hut. Maybe that was another trip it's hard to say.

The summit was warm and almost wind free from what I remember. We sat out on the rocks in shorts and t-shirts for about an hour talking with the other hikers. Other August summits were not nearly as kind (t-storms, freezing temps, fierce winds).

I don't remember when we decided to head down. But down we went. The backside again seeming to go on forever. Down the switchbacks, down, down, down (will this ever end?). Each corner brought a fatigued, "wow, so this is what this looks like?" as we realized what we saw at night looked different in the daytime.

Vague memories of eating, sleeping, soreness. Vowing never again. But on the drive home we laughed and said yes, let's go again. Funny how that works.

I was in college with a summer job, and a guy I worked with mentioned that he had climbed Mt. Whitney. I indicated interest and we decided to give it a try that weekend. We drove up on Friday evening, hiked up on Saturday, spent the night in the Hut, and hiked down on Sunday. This was 1971, so there were no permits, Wag Bags, etc. involved, just running shoes, borrowed pack, etc.

That sounds like a great story. Would like to hear details.

My first time?

Well, I was a sophomore in high school, and a young teacher took a shine to me. One thing led to another, and one late afternoon we found ourselves alone after class. She grabbed ...

Oh wait a minute. You meant the first time on *Whitney*. Sorry. My bad.

My wife and I began hiking in 1987, before we were married. We hiked in Tuolumne Meadows fairly often, since it was so close to Reno.

On one of our hikes, I decided to see whether I could find a way to the top of a nearby peak I had been admiring. I had never climbed a mountain before, I didn't know the name of the mountain in question, and I knew nothing of guidebooks, difficulty ratings, etc. I just scrambled up until I was almost on the summit and decided I couldn't go any further. While I was taking pictures, I discovered what looked like a way to the top. I tried it, and found myself on the summit. The downclimb was really scary, but I was hooked. I later learned that I had climbed Cathedral Peak, and that the route was class four, whatever that meant.

A week later, we hiked up Mt. Dana together. The altitude certainly slowed us down, but neither of us had anything resembling AMS. Now we were both hooked.

We did more hiking and climbing that summer and were back on Mt. Dana again in May '88. By this time, we were aware that California had some 14,000-foot peaks and started planning to climb Mt. Whitney and possibly Mt. Muir.

We hadn't been having any AMS issues, but Whitney was higher and further than anything we had attempted so far. We did a short backpack trip in Yosemite, spending one night around 11,000 feet and hiking above 12,000 feet. We took a day off to drive to Whitney Portal and slept in the parking lot. We started up as early as we could without using the headlamps we didn't have.

It was a long, hard day. We tried to keep a steady pace, eating and drinking often. The weather was perfect. That's a good thing, since we were hiking in Levis and didn't think we needed rain gear in "Sunny California." We were tired, but doing OK at Trail Crest.

I wanted to climb Mt. Muir on the way up. I found what looked like the route and scrambled up from the trail. The climbing was nice class three, and the view was spectacular. I had climbed my first fourteener! I scrambled back down and caught up with Dovie.

The summit looked so far away. I remember seeing other climbers, some victorious and some defeated, but I can't remember any details about them. Altitude and old age dull the memory. We eventually reached the summit, signed the register, congratulated ourselves, and headed back down the trail. It felt great to have achieved our goal! We made it to the WPS in time for showers and burgers. It had taken 13 hours, and we were trashed!

I can't even remember where we spent that night, but my records show that we hiked up White Mountain Peak the next day. Yeah! We were hooked!

I knew that someone would respond to the opportunity that this thread served up.

The title of the thread was to attract attention, but it did enter my mind after I posted that it would be an interesting story if someone became a member of the 2.7 mile high club on Whitney!

But, that may have to wait for another thread.

Assuming that you were referring to this:

I had little hiking experience but was a runner in great shape, so the trip went very well. The most shocking part of the trip was meeting a couple of US Navy guys on leave after having returned from Vietnam. They pretty much destroyed my understanding of how sailors use shore leave. It also turned out that they were short on water, so I shared some of mine with them. Another illusion destroyed -- who knew that the Navy could run out of water? Great guys, though. And one of htem had attended the same college I was at.

My second trip to Whitney (which no one asked about, of course) was two years later. I was having trouble finding a willing hiking partner, but I roped in a grad student by convincing him that he needed to make a pilgrimage to the place that Mad Dog Roy Earle was shot before leaving California forever. Another great trip.

July 1996, Not only my first time on Whitney, but my first real hike.

Bought a pack from Costco (Price Club)
Slept at a motel in Lone Pine. (My bad)
No trouble getting a permit at the last minute??
Had trouble finding the trailhead. (Probably didn’t get going till 6:30)
Running shoes, cotton socks, cotton shorts, cotton shirt, cotton sweatshirt. (brought 3 pair of sox, my good)
Carried a full sized VHS video camera. (I think the wife recorded over it, it’s lost)
Was very happy to see the solar toilets. (Removed a few years back)
Got freaked out when someone told me I needed to filter the water and ran out at Trail Crest.
Totally dehydrated on the summit, begging for water and eating snow.
Filled up at the first spring on the switchbacks. (Almost instant relief)
Left my sunglasses near Mirror Lake; had to back track a half mile to get them.
Took a wrong turn at Lone Pine Lake. More back tracking..
Back to the trailhead before dark (good because I probably didn’t have a light.)
Drove home that night (my bad, should have stayed and enjoyed the Sierra.)

I’m currently 5/5 on Whitney including two roped (technical) ascents and hope to summit my 14th and 15th California 14’ers this weekend.

Summer of 1981, on my second backpacking trip in the Sierra with my uncle and cousins. We went in at Onion Valley and exited at the portal. On the way out we took the side trip up the the summit. I still remember the amazing view down the Kern canyon from atop Forester Pass, the clouds of mosquitoes at Wallace Lake (so much so that we relocated our camp to get away from them). Back then we were still hiking in jeans (had the dirtiest jeans contest at the end of the trip) and using rented backpacks.

After camping at Guitar Lake I remember the ascent up to the trail junction and noting how fat the setting moon looked in the western sky on that crystal clear august morning. I recall getting excited as we approached the summit and signed the log.(yes that first whitney entry included a "Go Gators".
The view from the Whitney summit was an amazing panorama. We summited just as a group was topping out on the east face. The group popped a bottle of champagne and shared it with us.

After summiting we trudged back down to near that great underwater (hi Laura) spring in bighorn park to camp before exiting the next day. We didn't pay much mind to the store that time. I don't think Doug and co were there yet.

After gorging on pizza at the LP pizza factory it was back to Laguna to recuperate. Good times.
Didn't get back to Whitney again until 1987, though there were plenty of trips to the Sierra in between.

Sorry about my "no longer a virgin" reply. Couldn't resist.

My first Whitney experience: I was 11 years old in the Boy Scouts; ancient backpack that was, first and foremost, a torture device; carried WAY too much for my 100-pound body; drank NO water; tried to keep up with the older boys, hence I rushed up the mountain.

Incredibly, I made it up to Trail Camp, but crapped out about one-third of the way up the switchbacks the following day. By the way, my father, brother and I stayed in orange plastic "tube tents." Remember those??

High school, late 60's, think it was the summer of my sophomore year - one of the brothers (Catholic Prep school) was a hiker and organized the MUIR, broken down into 6, 1-week sections. There were maybe 10 kids and 3 adults per week. The parents all paid ~$75 per hiker for community food for the week, the school provided packs (Kelty Tiogas) and sleeping bags; we had to get our own boots.
BTW, we all slept two to a red tube tent.

Anyway, after the first week - Reds Meadows, when it was time to pass on the packs and sleeping bags to the next upcoming group, there were 3 or 4 "no shows"...Go figure.

Since the food was previously bought and already pre-packaged up for 12 - 13 people, they asked around if anyone from the first week wanted to continue on for another week - free. I said sure.

Second week same thing, and I tagged along again. 6 weeks later I was atop Whitney and hooked. My very first backpacking trip was the JMT. I had never even considered backpacking before, and now I was a seasoned veteran.

I want to hear the rest of Bigfoot's story !!!!!!!!!!!!!

The memory fades... and the photo album disappeared a long time ago, but here are a few comments about my first Whitney summit:

- Sometime in August 1972. I was sixteen years old.

- About two months prior, I had fractured my spine in several places (multiple weeks in the hospital; several of those days unconsious) in an off-road motorcycle accident.

- A good family friend who was older and knew that I had the gear from my time as a Boy Scout asked me to climb Whitney with him.

- He carried my pack and most of the gear. I placed a few personal items in a cloth sleeping bag that I rolled up length-wise and tied across my shoulder. (I couldn't carry a pack as I was still wearing a full back brace.)

- We camped overlooking Consultation Lake. I barffed a few times that evening due to AMS.

- I felt OK the next morning, so we headed up to the summit.

- The 99 (at that time) Switchbacks felt like they would never end!

- I was deathly afraid of heights (The main reason why I took to rock climbing shortly after the climb. I needed to conquer the fear.) and crawled on my hands and knees across at least one of the windows.

- I don't recall seeing a register on the summit, but there were soot stains on the ceiling of the Hut, so we scraped our names and the date up there.

- We celebrated and recovered at Diaz Lake. I found a bra in my sleeping bag the next morning and have no idea what had happened.

- My partner wanted to continue on with the adventures and tried to talk me into going to Denali. I read up and the stories of cold and death caused me to decide that it would be the first mountain on my "Do Not Climb" list. He never went either, and as far as I know, he only returned to Whitney one more time, with his son, a few years ago.

- Considering the above, I'm sure that there were plenty of experienced climbers wondering "what the heck is he doing?"

- Of course, my parents didn't hear about it until well after the trip happened...

Last week I climbed Whitney for the first time again.

While the true first time was 1996, this time I was solo, but not solo.

I was accompanied by my late friend and hiker buddy Larry who died suddenly 2 days before I flew west. Larry's spirit accompanied me, and was in full force whenever I was tired, or the way became steep. Thinking of Larry, of Larry on the JMT (twice), and especially of Larry 'not here', just made my legs churn faster and my lungs breathe harder and harder and harder until it no longer hurt.

Larry, Rest in Peace. Harvey



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Thank you. After reading these, it looks like friends are the most important thing about the hike. God Bless Larry.

My first time was not that fun, actually. I was so paranoid about safety that I overpacked. I think I must've brought close to 30 lbs. up to the summit. In addition to that, I was so concerned with storms rolling in that I tried ascending as fast as I could. Once up top, I couldn't enjoy the summit because I was so concerned about getting down before dark that I immediately went down. On my way home to Illinois, I looked back at the hike and realized that I didn't enjoy the experience at all. Therefore, I returned a month later and had a blast.

-F

My 1st hike up Mt. Whitney

From childhood on, I was lucky enough to experience a wide variety of outdoor sports. However, I did not hike until my late 20’s... Unless you count my epic of El Capitan when I was 16 years old. No, not the one in Yosemite... the one near Lakeside, CA. It was 1973. I was looking up at that majestic mountain from El Monte Park and thought... I could just hike up to the left of the summit and then traverse the ridge to the top. My friend and I headed straight up (x-country style); we were wearing shorts and tanks, had no pack, no water and no food. We ended up getting stuck in a ravine while darkness came upon us. My friend would not budge from the bottom of the ravine. I literally pushed her up the embankment and in the dark, we crawled under brush making our way back down. Just before the horse coral, across from El Monte Park, we came upon a tall outcropping of large rocks. I jumped from one of the rocks to the ground. Unfortunately, I didn’t see the barbed wire fence below. Cut my stomach but made it to the Park Ranger’s house around midnight so he could open up the Park gate to retrieve our bikes. I would love to go back and hike El Capitan (also known as El Cajon mountain). I just looked up the stats: 12 miles R.T. and 4300’ elevation gain. What was I thinking? Teenagers...

When I was 28 years old, my good friend Jim Howat started organizing weekend backpacking trips out of Sunset Beach, CA. He would type up a synopsis of the mountain we were going to hike (pre-internet), the history of the area, the flora/vegetation, miles R.T. and elevation gain. He gave me an old, army external frame pack and a version of the ten essentials; I was off and hiking...

We hiked numerous peaks in the San Gabriel, San Bernardino and San Jacinto mountain ranges; averaging two backpacking trips a month. When Jim mentioned Mt. Whitney, I was on board. He set the date for late October 1987. I was definitely a rookie; packed a quart size glass bottle of fruit juice and a glass jar of shrimp cocktail along with oranges and papayas for that trip. I have always enjoyed fresh foods/drinks and didn’t mind carrying the extra weight back then (didn’t do freeze-dried foods; thankfully, fdf have come a long way since the ‘80s)... This Whitney hike was just before my Mountain Training Course through the Sierra Club; I did not have any mountaineering skills. Luckily, the weekend Jim chose (late October 1987), was unusually warm, no snow... in fact I wore shorts on the summit.

Left to right: A fellow hiker, me and Jim Howat

I did understand the necessity to acclimatize and had hiked San Gorgonio via Vivian Creek trail just prior to Whitney. We camped at TC on a Saturday night and set out early Sunday morning for the summit. Out of approximately 10 in our group, only 3 of us made the top. I felt great. I will never forget the moment I stepped onto Whitney’s summit. It was very spiritual for me. I walked over to the edge of a slab to have some time alone, basking in the beauty that surrounded me. This was the moment that the Sierras stole my heart. The rest, as they say, is history... one mountain at a time.

I met a 91 year old man named Robert on that trip. He would pass me, then I'd pass him and so on. We met up at the summit. By that time, we had become very good friends and I've never forgotten him. I vowed that day that if I'm lucky enough to be alive and walking at 91, I will hike up Mt. Whitney.

I am forever grateful to Jim Howat. Btw, he used to fly a kite from every summit we tagged. Lost touch with him shortly after the MT course through the Sierra Club. We were scheduled to climb Pico de Orizaba but he got married, had a child and stopped climbing as far as I know. I’d like to let him know what he started...