There I was, 3am, hiking up a 38 degree, snowy slope thinking, "If I slip, I might die." In hindsight, it wasn't as life threatening as I felt it was in the moment. Just know that as a novice hiker, Mt. Whitney felt like Mt. Everest compared to the standard 3 mile hikes I've done all my life. That said, summitting Mt. Whitney is one of my proudest accomplishments and something I think is worth achieving for any athlete.
For those that don't know, at 14,505 feet of elevation, Mt. Whitney is the highest peak in the lower-48 states. For many people, Mt. Whitney is more than enough accomplishment to cap off a hiking resume. For others, it's a mountaineering playground. For someone like me? Well...let's just say it's a challenge that I'm willing to take on.
In this post, I will explain my Mt. Whitney experience. It will be a combination of story telling and walk-through explanations. Meaning, by the end of this post, you'll have lived through my Mt. Whitney experience and know SOME of what to expect if you ever go for yourself.
If you want a more technical, professional understanding of Mt. Whitney, I recommend reading this guide: Mt. Whitney Hike by the Hiking Guy
The break down of this post is as follows:
I) Mental Prep: Committing To Summit
II) Gathering the Gear and Supplies
III) Day 1: Hike To Trail Camp
50lbs and 11 miles - UPHILL
Don't Forget Your Bear Cannister
IV) TRAIL CAMP - Poop, eat, sleep
Wag bags & lunchables
sleeping at 12,000 feet elevation
V) Day 2: Summit
The Gnarliest 3am Of My Life
"Fuck, I Might Die."
The Longest 1.9 Miles Of All Time
That Summit Feeling
GlIssading: You Want Me To What?
VI) Day 2: 11 Miles Back To Cars
mental & physical fatigue
"I think I'm close!"
the final weigh in + smiles all around
VII) Victory Pizza
VIII) The Day After - Back To "REal" Life
IX) Conlusion
I) Mental Prep: Committing To Summit
I'll be honest, I did not want to do this hike initially. The weekend prior, the group had summitted Mt. San Jacinto's famous Cactus to Clouds (aka C2C) trail. C2C is 22+ miles and over 10,000 ft of elevation all in one day. It was a grind to say the least, and we (or I) had every excuse to rest and "need more time" before doing something like Mt. Whitney on a back-to-back weekend.
In addition to the valid excuses due to completing an already brutal hike in C2C, Mt. Whitney requires technical skills that I had never used before. Skills like using crampons and an ice axe.
Point being, with lack of training and the possibility of messing up, I was scared as fuck that I might die!!! My survival mechanisms kicked in all week leading up to the hike.
Not to mention, I didn't have 90% of the gear required to do this hike effectively and efficiently. So that's THREE valid excuses.
- (1) too tired from Cactus To Clouds and need more than a week's rest
- (2) don't have enough training, might risk injury or death
- (3) don't have the gear and don't have the money to buy it
But...I knew deep down that my soul wanted summit Mt. Whitney even if my mind and emotions were tangled up about it. So...I made the decision that I was 100% committed to summit.
All that was left at this point was to gather up the gear. The gear that I didn't have and definitely was not going to buy.
II) Gathering the Gear and Supplies
Unlike your average hike, you know the 2-5 mile ones NORMAL ass people do, a hike like Mt. Whitney requires more than just a school back pack and a bottle of water. Of course, you could do it with that type of gear. However, considering that your life is legit on the line, it's wise to have the right equipment for the job, even if that means busting out the credit card to buy it(or borrow it, like I did).
My team leader, Randy, an adventure extraordinaire, emailed a list of all the equipment we'd need for this venture. Here's that list:
Besides some basic stuff like a Base Shirt, Toilet Paper, and a Sleeping Bag, I was missing 90% of the damn list. And after spending $200 on Salomon Hiking Boots and an Osprey Water Bladder for Cactus to Clouds, I was not in the mood (nor the financial place) to spend ANY MORE money on mountaineering gear.
That was one excuse I wanted to use SO fucking badly. "I don't have money for gear." Ah...but if I REALLY wanted to fucking go then I'd find a way...so there goes that.
Luckily, an adventure friend of the group literally had every piece of gear I needed. Over 2-grand worth of gear, easily. If you've ever read the Alchemist by Paolo Coelo, this guy was one of those people on my journey who gave me something I needed in order to continue my Personal Legend. After sending him a 15 item list of expensive gear, he legit told me in what felt like nonchalant tone, "I have all of that." It was honestly hilarious and mind-blowing at the same time.
So...there I was:
- Decision To Summit - Check
- Gear For the Trip - Check
I guess we're really doing this!
III) Day 1: Hike To Trail Camp
The plan is to summit Whitney in two days. On day one we hike 11 miles to Trail Camp, or Base Camp, where we will stay overnight. On day two, from Trail Camp, we hike up a steep snow chute, along with about 2 miles of switchbacks to the summit - then back down to Trail Camp. Then, to complete the mission, we descend from Trail Camp back to the cars - another 11 miles.
About 25 miles of total hiking, give or take, with a peak altitude of over 14,000 ft!
Off we go!
50lbs and 11 miles - UPHILL
It's only 3 minutes into the hike and I'm already suffering. In order to camp overnight and successfully summit the mountain, we need all kinds of gear that weigh all kinds of pounds. In total, each member is carrying a specially designed hiking backpack filled with 40-50 lbs of gear.
This special backpack clips around your waist which distributes the weight efficiently. Although your back and shoulders are alleviated (for the most part), your hip muscles (aka hip flexors) take a beating. It took about 3 miles before my hip flexor muscles were used to the work. It took about 5 miles before my mind was 100% on board with what the fuck I had truly signed up for.
What made a MASSIVE impact in my ability to handle the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual challenges was all the training I had done the months prior to this hike. Almost every day I do a HIIT cardio workout, which means my heart is in fantastic shape and can handle the demand of Mt. Whitney. Similarly, my mind has been trained to keep pushing my body despite physical pain and the desire to take a break. Is it required to train hard in order to complete Whitney? No. Does it help and is it in your best favor? Yes, absolutely.
As my coaches say, it's when we're super tired during our workouts, and our hearts feel like they're going to explode, that we must continue to work - that's how athletes condition their bodies for peak performance.
Don't Forget Your Bear CANISTER
A bear canister is a gallon sized food container designed to keep bears from smelling camp food. If you want to avoid hiking three plus miles back down the mountain, with 50 lbs of gear on your back, then don't forget your bear canister. I repeat, DO NOT FORGET YOUR BEAR CANISTER.
Randy, in the 11 times he's hiked Mt. Whitney, never once was stopped and checked for bear canister use. Park rangers would often check on him for other reasons, but never to enforce a bear canister requirement. Welp, on the 12th time the park rangers finally did.
So, to the team's surprise and frustration, we were deemed forbidden to continue our hike unless we went back down and got the bear canisters.
Already 3+ miles up the mountain, the team bitched, moaned, complained, and contemplated possible strategies. One strategy being, "fuck the park rangers, let's just keep going." Other hikers who were in the same dilemma as us shared similar sentiments.
Ultimately, the team decided to send the two strongest/fittest members back down to retrieve said bear canisters. It was a bitch, it messed up our schedule, but we bit the bullet and followed the rules.
Later on in the day we crossed paths with the same park ranger that called us out. No words were exchanged. The day went on.
From Left To Right: Andre, Madeline, Iliana, Randy, Jazlyn, Gabe
IV) Trail Camp - poop, eat, sleep
After 11 miles of uphill hiking, stopping at two beautiful lakes, tending to our blisters, and moving forward one step at a time, we finally reached our destination for the day - Trail Camp.
Located at the base of the main summit hike, at 12,000 feet of elevation, there's a stretch of land with giant, flat rocks that make for suitable camp life. There were about 3 parties of tents when we arrived. We set up our 3-tent team midway between the start of the summit trail and our access to water.
The plan was to set up camp, eat dinner, and be in bed by as early as 8pm; tomorrow's plan is to wake up at 2am, and start the summit hike no later than 3am. Yes...3am.
Wag Bags & Lunchables
"Where do people poop?" might be a question you're asking. In typical camping situations with no public restrooms, the common thing is to dig a hole and poop in it like a cat. But, in the mountains, it is required to use what's called a "Wag Bag." Also known as a "Waste Alleviation Gelling Bag."
The gist of the Wag Bag process is that you poop in a small trash bag that's filled with a kitty litter type substance, then once you're done, you roll that up and store it in a hefty zip lock type bag.
Photo Credit: https://outsideed.wordpress.com/category/mt-whitney/
"Where do you put that bag?" There are no trashcans on the mountain. You have two options - leave the bag up there like a jerk, or carry it down the mountain with you in your backpack. I opted to store the Wag Bag in the side pocket that's meant for water bottles and stuff. I figured if it were to leak or explode, it's best to save the stuff inside the backpack and have it leak...on me? I guess...
Totally personal decision in terms of your Wag style. One of our members opted to avoid going number-two entirely. Don't know how he did it, especially cause the altitude prompts your body to expel waste in the form of burps, farts, and well, poops!
As for the food part...be like my well-prepared team members and not like me. My team members brought dehydrated food packs that are designed for camping. Think of stuff like easy mac, but more nutritious and hearty. Don't be like me...bringing a total of 7 Clif Bars, 2 packs of Lunchables, and 6 packs of energy gel blocks. If it's not apparent, I'm new at this.
You're going to be climbing a big ass mountain, asking a lot of your body and mind in the process. OVER PACK on food and water. That's my advice. This is no the time to run out of food. Be like Randy and pack a big zip-lock of straight up MEAT. Have 2-4 packs of REAL meals. Have tons of snacks. AND HAVE A WATER FILTER. Anyways, haha.
Sleeping at 12,000 feet Elevation
View from Trail Camp. Snow chute is on the left side.
At Trail Camp, as one would imagine, it gets pretty effin cold at night . In order to prevent our water, electronics, and summit clothes from freezing over, we all slept with most of that stuff IN our sleeping bags. The heat from the sleeping bag and our bodies would suffice.
Otherwise, our water containers would have possibly been unusable, our clothes wet, and our radios and phones dead! No bueno. We prepared accordingly. All was well the next morning.
V) Day 2: Summit
"Oh shit." I had almost slipped traversing the snow chute. In retrospect, even if I had fallen, I would have likely been 100% fine. In my mind though, I felt like death was a real possibility if I didn't keep my balance.
Summit day was Sunday, 6/3/18. The plan of attack was as follows:
1. Wake up at 2am, have breakfast
2. Leave for summit trail at 3am sharp
3. Climb up 1,000 ft snow chute with crampons and ice axe
4. Hike 1.9 miles to summit
5. Hike from summit to top of chute
6. Glissade down chute (butt sledding)
HERE WE GO!
The Gnarliest 3am Of My Life
If I examine the type of things I've done at the hour of 3am over the span of my life, most of what you'd find are activities like "eating a hot pocket" or "smoking weed" or "doing not much of anything." At best, I think I've done a full body workout at the odd hour of 3am. Or maybe been at the airport for some weird red-eye flight.
On this day, the title of "Gnarliest Thing I've Ever Done At 3am" would be captured by summit hiking Mt. Whitney!
In my opinion, the snow chute was the scariest, the most technical, and ultimately the most awesome part of the entire hike. Between Trail Camp and the start of a 1.9 mile hike to the summit, one must trudge up a 1,000 ft high snow chute. This requires crampons, which turn your snow boots into cleats, and an ice axe for both stabilization and a tool to save your life if you start falling.
The other parts of this hike are fairly "easy", meaning the worst of it is really your own physical conditioning and some mental complaining. What made the snow chute hike so scary was the nature of feeling like you might die.
It's kind of like if you never heard of skydiving before and decided that you were going to do it. At some point you'd be like, "I think this is a stupid idea and I'm not down."
Climbing up this snow chute with crampons and an ice axe, like skydiving, is actually more safe than it is risky. But, because of how we're wired, and the nature of the situation, it feels A LOT more risky than it is.
HOWEVER, unlike tandem skydiving where a professional is controlling the situation, safely hiking up this snow chute is on the individual. If we fall, we must use our ice axe to "self-arrest", which is a term for sticking your axe into the mountain and stopping your fall. Luckily for the everyone on the team, nobody fell. We all made it to the top of the chute.
It was GNARLY!!
"Fuck, I Might Die."
Throughout this write-up I've already hammered home the fact that my brain was constantly tripping out that it might die. This part of the blog is dedicated to that whole experience.
I've NEVER, EVER, faced potential death that many times for a prolonged period of time. There were at least 10 instances where if I was not careful, I could slip and fall off a cliff. Was it difficult in terms of physical ability, no - not at all. In fact, if there wasn't a 200 ft drop off to my right, then it would just be a walk in the snow.
BUT, because there is a 200 ft drop off to the right, it's a LITTLE bit more than just a walk in the snow.
As a helpful word to those doing Mt. Whitney soon, know that despite my fearful thoughts, I did not die - not even close.
Point being, your MIND and your EMOTIONS will say one thing, but the RESULTS say another. It's quite a fascinating experience - to move your body with focus and deliberation despite contradicting thoughts and emotions.
You will not die. You will live.
At the top of the snow chute, jazzed to be alive.
The Longest 1.9 Miles Of All Time
Once the snow chute is topped, all that's left is a 1.9 mile hike to the summit. However, you're now at 13,000 feet of altitude, making things a tad more difficult than a 1.9 hike done at sea level.
Long story short, with your body and mind fatigued, a 1.9 mile hike felt more like a 7 mile hike at this altitude.
But, alas, after much time and work we finally reached the summit!
That Summit Feeling
There's something about hard work, patience, conquering self-limitations, and a little bit of suffering that makes long-term gratification so rewarding.
At the top of Mt. Whitney there are four things every person wants to do.
1) sign the registry that only those who SUMMIT ever get to
2) push the "That Was Easy" button right next to the registry
3) take pictures with the "Mt. Whitney 14,505 ft" banner
4) REST
Along with those four, there's one thing every person who summits Mt. Whitney will be able to say, "I hiked up and stood at the highest peak in the lower-48 states!" The lower-48 states are all U.S. states except for Hawaii and Alaska. This is also known as the Contiguous United States.
Although being at the top was a beautiful experience, both inside and out, it was the journey of getting there that made being at the top so worth it. We set out a goal to hike up 14 miles with 50 lbs on your back in order to summit Mt. Whitney. It was fuckin hard and we did it!
After about hour at the summit, we finally made our way 1.9 miles back to the top of the snow chute. Which, then begs the question, "How do we get down the chute back to Trail Camp?"
GlIssading: You Want Me To What?
When we got back to the top of the snow chute, there were a couple parties of people chilling there. However, it didn't look like they were just resting, they looked like they were...a little stuck. The scene kind of felt like a cat stuck in a tree situation. "We got ourselves up here...but how do we get down?"
Luckily for us, Randy had done this over 10 times and was certain in our exit strategy - GLISSADING.
Glissading is a term for body sledding while using an ice axe as a tool to brake and control the speed. For many people, this is the best way to get down the snow chute. For others it's the most risky. Randy was on the "best way" camp. Some of the people stuck at the top, including myself were leaning toward the "most risky" camp.
Watch the video below to see what Glissading down Mt. Whitney is like:
What DIDN'T help was that the night before, on Day 1, a man had lost his ice-axe while glissading and had to use his ARMS as his brakes. He arrived back at camp with bloodied and bruised forearms. He even exclaimed "I could have died!" Safe to say, some of the team members and I were...even more sketched out to glissade than we already were.
After 10 minutes of resting, the six of us started to glissade down the chute one by one. As I was fixing my gear to go down, I could hear Randy coaching the others with glee and delight - the opposite emotions I was feeling at the time.
"Nice! Yeah! See! It's super easy! Just like that!" were the things I heard as I was finished up my gear situation. I figured to myself, "Hm, well it sounds more like a controlled, fun slide than it does a drop-to-my-death free fall."
By the time it was my turn, 95% of my irrational fears had subsided and I felt like I was in a water-park waiting my turn to go down the water slide.
"3, 2, 1 - GO!"
"Oh shit, oh shit. Oh...oh cool! Ooooohhh. Okay yeah!" was my monologue for the first 100 feet, which were the most uncertain.
"WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" was all I kept shouting the rest of the way down.
The whole glissading bit took about 1 minute max - probably less. It looked similar to the experience seen in this video:
We all made it down safely and with smiles on our faces. It was a nice uplifting segment of what was otherwise a grueling morning.
By noon we were back at Trail Camp resting, eating, and sleeping. We'd take down camp at about 2:30pm. We'd set out for the 11 mile trek back down the mountain by around 3:30pm.
GOOD NEWS: Our backpacks are only 35-40 lbs now!
Exhausted and ready, the team started back down the mountain the same way we made it up - one step at a time.
VI) Day 2: 11 Miles Back To the Cars
Once we were back in Trail Camp, the most stressful part of the hike was over. The 11 miles back to the cars, although we're exhausted, had felt like it would be "easy". Why? Well, it's almost all downhill and there are no perceived threats of death. Compared to the rest of the weekend it should be cake!
...Right?!
mental & physical fatigue
At this point, the team was pretty spread out location wise. As there were no more technical parts to the hike, and a practical one-way trail back to the bottom, it was on each team member's discretion to choose what pace they'd hike down.
In my own words:
Randy and Jaz chose the "let's just get off this fuckin mountain already" pace.
Madeline went for a "I want a nice brisk pace, but not Randy-mode" pace.
I went for a "I want to get off this mountain too...but I'm tired as fuck" pace.
Iliana went for a "I want to get down the mountain too, but imma do my own thing" pace.
And Andre, who wishes he was going FASTER than Randy, chose the role of caring leader and supported Iliana at her pace.
Each of us had walkie-talkies. As we spread out, we'd communicate our situations. The things we'd share were a mix of positioning details, singing, and complaining. All of which were a way to stay connected despite being physically separated.
The team's spirit was still high despite feeling done with this hike 6 miles ago.
"I think I'm close!"
Other than, "oh shit I might die", the other string of thought that played the most tricks on me was "I think I'm close!" After crossing the 3-mile bear canister marker, I truly felt like I was close. In hindsight, what my tired mind was unable to do was realize that 3 miles is still 3 miles.
One thing is clear, when a person is exhausted, both time and distance become disproportionate. Meaning, the ability to accurately measure the distance and time back to the cars, from any spot on the hike down, was messed up.
Like an illusion in the desert, I had started to think that the end of the trail was just around the corner even though I was still miles away from the bottom geologically. After awhile, thinking I was close when I was actually not started to needle at my spirit.
Eventually, after accepting that I was not in fact close to the bottom, I chose a strategy that made most sense - just keep walking.
At this point I was alone and at my own pace. My walkie talkie began to sound off. It was Randy.
Randy: "We finally reached the bottom."
Me: "Dude, when the fuck does this thing end?"
the final weigh in + smiles all around
By about 7pm, all six of us were back at the parking lot in full health. Randy and Jaz led the pack. Madeline arrived 9 minutes after them. I was 6 minutes after her. Andre and Ily just 2 minutes after me.
I weighed my backpack at the bottom of the trail: 40 lbs.
As a group, we shared our gripes and groans along with our success and joy. Randy handed out beers, I retrieved some extra food left at the nearby bear boxes, some of us went to the gift shop, and each of us threw away our glorious Wag Bag.
Relieved and achieved, we completed some final logistical tasks and headed out for our traditional team meal: "VICTORY PIZZA"
VII) Victory Pizza
1 Pepperoni, 1 BBQ Chicken, and 1 Cheese Pizza just for us. After two days of extreme adventuring, the savory reward of pizza was what we all needed. After rationing my 2 Lunchables packs, you best believe I had five slices of pizza! Blistered, bruised, and nothing much left to give, we shared our highlights of the trip.
"Dude, that guy that almost died glissading?! Are you kidding me?!"
"I swear to GOD that 1.9 miles felt like 5 miles."
"Yeah, I should have packed more than two lunchables."
"It was tough but it was so worth it!"
Little did the other customers in the pizza joint realize what we had just accomplished, which is both cool and perplexing to think about. Also humbling. At the end of the day, we were sitting in the same pizza joint as the rest of them. AND, we had no idea what they did that day or what they're going through.
After about an hour or so of pizza scarfing and memory sharing, the group said their final goodbyes. It was still a 3 hour drive home for most of us - give or take.
Tired but satisfied, we had officially conquered Mt. Whitney.
VIII) The Day After - Back To "REal" Life
A weekend like this is obviously unique in itself. But what was eye-opening is just how different Mt. Whitney life and regular life is. Rather, how different the agenda is. Let me explain.
On the mountain, our responsibilities are to get to our destination at a decent time, eat, rest, manage our ailments, hydrate, and care for one another. And most of those things you do without trying - like eating, drinking, and resting. Point being, we had a very narrow focus on the mountain.
Furthermore, everyone else on the mountain had the same agenda. And, in terms of social culture, everyone said "hi" and often shared a conversation or two.
Back home, the first thing I was shocked by was how many fucking things I was juggling. THERE ARE SO MANY DEADLINES, both real and imagined. Clothes to be washed, house to be managed, clients to contact, videos to create, blogs, social media, family, clean my room, eat healthy, fitness regimen - on and on and on. Compared to the mountain agenda, I was overwhelmed with how much shit I had on my mind. Paralyzed in fact.
Along with the agenda differences, I could FEEL how disconnected the culture was when I was out in public back home. Unlike the mountain, where everyone is up to the same stuff and doing the same things, I felt like each stranger I crossed paths with back home was... very much engulfed in their own life - and really their own mind.
I mean this very objectively, without judgment. Each person had their own stuff going on, and each person's stuff was very different from another person's stuff. It was so different than the mountain vibe.
On another note, despite the physical demand of the weekend, my body was already strong enough to play pick-up basketball the following day. I will say this though, there was a strong desire for me to just do nothing - and I did.
In hindsight, I may have needed only half a day of nothingness. Instead I took 4 days. I used the justification of just having done a ridiculous hike to be a lazy slob - lol. Meaning, I smoked some weed, ate some chips, and laid on the couch.
Is this wrong? No. BUT, it's not who I am anymore. Moving forward, I'd say one day of full on nothingness is reasonable (and dare I say practical). But, really, I think I would have preferred to get RIGHT back into my routines and rituals the day after.
All good. Lesson learned.
IX) Conclusion
If you are physically prepared and have experience with crampons and an ice-axe, OR are travelling with experienced people who can teach you, this is a BLAST of a hike to have on your resume.
If you are NOT physically prepared or don't have the ample training to successfully and safely tackle the technical parts of the hike, DO NOT DO IT.
I had been training my heart and physical conditioning for 3 months prior to doing this. Furthermore, I had completed two comparable hikes prior to this one. The first hike being Mt. Wilson at 4,800 feet of elevation, the second being Mt. San Jacinto at over 10,000 feet of elevation.
Said another way, you wouldn't run a marathon if you didn't train or complete a shorter running event. Could you do it? Yes. Have people done it on a whim? Yes. Is it smart? No. Your choice.
In terms of my own experience, "I climbed the highest peak in the contiguous United States" is cool to say I've done and tell a story about. It is a validation of who I am and developed myself to be. "The Old Gabe" would not say yes to Mt. Whitney and all the decisions that eventually led me to complete it. "The New Gabe"? Well, he moves his body up a mountain even when his mind tells him he might die.
I want to be SO CRYSTAL CLEAR that my pride comes from overcoming my own limitations, not in being better than others. It really did take A LOT of growth in order for me to do this. With that I acknowledge my own awesomeness and appreciate any positive comments that come from others.
That said, ANYONE can do this. And not just in regards to Mt. Whitney, but in regards to growth and accomplishing things on the next level (according to you).
One thing I deal with on a daily basis is my ego. At times I gas myself up like I'm some super awesome, remarkable, 'others can't even do this', type of person. But, that always makes me feel icky and disconnected from the love and respect I have for others.
If you're reading this, and you're someone who has their own version of "Mt. Whitney" to climb, but you're not actualizing that version of you, I promise that version of you is just right there around the corner.
It is part of my mission to help people be the version of themselves that climbs their Mt. Whitney. I'd like to think most of us believe we are capable of so much more than we tend to demonstrate. And, as someone who played victim and felt insecure in his past, and still deals with it despite public displays of success, I want people to live their best life and feel on-fucking-fire.
Or, really at the foundation of all that, is the desire to help people have ACCESS to their own greatness as a function of their own doing, as opposed to some outside force (be it me, a movie, a seminar, or a book). To teach people how to fish, not just give them a fish or a fishing pole. I digress.
All in all, Mt. Whitney was fucking dope and I've grown to a new level because of it.
Hope you enjoyed reading and are inspired to conquer your Mt. Whitney!!
CHEERS!
Much Love,
Gabriel Santos
