The Sofiechan Mount Whitney Expedition

Posting is fun, but the higher life is primarily physical. A couple weeks ago a few of us took on mount Whitney. At 14500 feet of pure Californian granite, it's the highest mountain in the continental United States, and a serious challenge even for strong hikers.

We drove down the day before, discussing political strategy, philosophy, business, and the marvels of precision bunker busting as the grassy California hills rolled by. We pulled into the parking lot in the late evening and calculated that we could sleep for about three and a half hours before it would be time to march.

At 2:30 am, we began the long trek up the switchbacks. The parking lot was at 8500 feet or so, where already you feel the thinness of the air. But the air was not so thin yet as to prevent working up a good sweat. We strapped on our headlamps and I set a steady pace of quick but never anaerobic progress. On the flats we jogged to keep the heartrate constant, but on the inclines the thin air forced us to slow way down to avoid burning our muscles or gasping for breath. We could see lines of other headlamps way up the side of the valley ahead of us, winding through the gap into the alpine.

As we got up to 10000 feet, the sky began to lighten, painting the clouds and cliffs with a palette of deep purples, pinks, and blues. The lights went out and we began to be able to see the bare rock slides, boulders, and glacial lakes scattered in the valley between huge cliffs. Up ahead, mount Whitney towered another 4000 feet above us.

A series of concussive shockwaves echoed through, making us wonder about rock falls until we remembered Edwards AFB and figured they must be on their morning bombing test runs. Fighter jets thundering overhead later confirmed that this was aerospace territory.

Above 10000 feet, the air gets too thin for exertion alone to maintain body temperature, so the pace sloweed down and sweaters had to go back on. We could feel the nausea setting in as we shuffled like zombies to avoid overtaxing ourselves.

By about 11000 feet, I was puking regularly and struggling from altitude sickness, but we kept on. But at the high base camp at 11500, I realized it would not be possible for me to continue. The hundred switchbacks up to the ridge had not even begun and I was already a wreck. I urged my comrades to go on without me and meet me back at the bottom when done. Pic related: the view from where I got to.

As I retreated back down into the atmosphere, I was surprised by how far we had come. I could see a beautiful little lake perched in the crook of the valley far below that itself had seemed high out of reach from the parking lot. Thousands of feet is no joke. Neither is altitude sickness. I made my way for the lake but I didn't stop puking until I was back below 9500 feet.

I feel asleep for a bit by the shores of the lake. When I woke I was greeted by many fish. The lake was even warm, being not on the main snowmelt stream. I would have gone swimming but I was not feeling well enough to jump into a lake. The rock one would jump from was perfect though and very tempting. Instead I wandered around absorbing the beauty of nature and recovering as I slowly worked my way back down to the parking lot for thicker air. I slept on a rock at the parking lot for another few hours, still feeling quite sick, until my comrades returned.

They had made it. The climb was successful. They reported getting quite woozy themselves at the top and even seeing hallucinations from the thin air up on the ridge. They were worn out, but victorious. They will have to fill in their half of the story if they choose.

It was a great trip overall, despite the altitude sickness. Unfortunately if you aren't acclimatized, it can get you like that. Next time I will ask that we not go above 10000 feet. But the alpine is a beautiful place well worth the occasional struggle.

There will be more. I grew up mountaineering and would like to do more, especially as a regular activity with the bros. You in for next time, anon?

>>3704
I was one who summited. Anon started very strong but rolled the unlucky snake eyes with regards to altitude sickness. I haven't ever gotten it myself, but it looked brutal. Seeing his perseverance from 11000' to 11500' was good inspiration for the remainder of the vertical gain up to the top.

I grew up in the Rockies and have done 30 or so peaks with summits above 14k, including Mt. Elbert which is the second highest peak in the lower 48. Whitney was a different sort of beast. Being acclimated to CA sea level when you start hiking is one part of that, as is the ~6600' of vertical gain over just 10.5 miles, which requires a very early start to avoid getting zapped like a bug by afternoon thunderstorms on the exposed portion of the trail above treeline (same dynamic holds in the Rockies). We all approached the physicality of it with a sort of quiet disregard that I believe is required to surmount such trials. Thinking too much about the minutiae of these things will generally send you down the wrong path more than the right. You have to trust in your ability to overcome emergent problems and know when to tap out if you're in a bad way.

The 99 switchbacks section after we parted ways with OP was the most grueling part of the whole thing. It is about 1,800' of gain over 2 miles, which is hard enough at sea level, but particularly fun in the thin air at 11500' when you've already done about 3000'. You really start to feel the altitude. If you go too early in the season (we were right on the margin), there are some pretty gnarly snowfields along the switchbacks that it would be very bad to slip on. This is made sketchier by the tiredness that you've accumulated in your legs, especially on the descent.

After that section, you meet up with the John Muir Trail (JMT) and the people around you start looking a bit more haggard. A friendly Nepali man offered me a cigarette, which gave me a good second wind. Nicotine hits a bit harder at 13000'. From there it's relatively smooth cruising up to the summit. Sparse on vegetation, lots of rocks for company. Somehow there is cell signal at the top, so got in a few FaceTimes to remember, then a knee-busting trudge back down to the parking lot to meet up with slightly recovered anon. The descent always subjectively feels about 10x longer than the ascent because you can see everything you missed in the early morning darkness.

You do these things half for the sake of brotherhood and half for the sake of witnessing the beauty of Nature. Being in the alpine domain frees the mind and puts one in a state of ultimate peace and unity with God, which can be surprising the first time you experience it given how difficult the physical portion is. Very highly recommended. Open invite for the next summit.

Meditation on Mountain Peaks has some great passages that your ascent made me think of:

>In the struggle against mountain heights, action is finally free from all machines, and from everything that detracts from man’s direct and absolute relationship with things. Up close to the sky and to crevasses—among the still and silent greatness of the peaks; in the impetuous raging winds and snowstorms; among the dazzling brightness of glaciers; or among the fierce, hopeless verticality of rock faces—it is possible to reawaken (through what may at first appear to be the mere employment of the body) the symbol of overcoming, a truly spiritual and virile light, and make contact with primordial forces locked within the body’s limbs. In this way the climber’s struggle will be more than physical and the successful climb may come to represent the achievement of something that is no longer merely human. In ancient mythologies the mountain peaks were regarded as the seats of the gods; this is myth, but it is also the allegorical expression of a real belief that may always come alive again sub specie interioritatis.

>In life—as has been pointed out, since Nietzsche, by Simmel—humans have a strange and almost incredible power to reach certain existential peaks at which “living more” (mehr leben), or the highest intensity of life, is transformed into “more than living” (mehr als leben). At these peaks, just as heat transforms into light, life becomes free of itself; not in the sense of the death of individuality or some kind of mystical shipwreck, but in the sense of a transcendent affirmation of life, in which anxiety, endless craving, yearning and worrying, the quest for religious faith, human supports and goals, all give way to a dominating state of calm. There is something greater than life, within life itself, and not outside of it. This heroic experience is valuable and good in itself, whereas ordinary life is only driven by interests, external things, and human conventions. I use the word experience, because this state is not connected with any particular creed or theory (which are always worthless and relative); rather it presents itself in a most direct and undoubtable way, just like the experiences of pain and pleasure.

>This profound dimension of the spirit, which perceives itself as infinite, self-transcending, and beyond all manifest reality, is reawakened and shines forth—even though not entirely consciously—in the “insanity” of those who, in increasing numbers and without a specific reason, dare to challenge the mountain heights, led by a will that prevails over fears, exhaustion, and the primitive instincts of prudence and self-preservation.

>Truly, the enormity, the silence, and the majesty of the great mountains naturally incline the soul toward that which is greater than human, and thus attract the better people to the point at which the physical aspect of climbing (with all the courage, the self-mastery, and mental lucidity that it requires) and an inner spiritual realization, become the inseparable and complementary parts of one and the same thing.

>Those who are irresistibly attracted to the mountains have often only experienced in an emotion a greatness that is beyond their understanding. That which appeals to them and moves them is the powerful inner message that is directly evident in everything in the mountains. The mountain can be destructive and is awesome in its greatness, its solitude, its inaccessibility, its silence, the primordial nature of its storms, its immutability through the succession of seasons and the constant formation and dissolution of the cloud banks

"Summiting is optional, coming back is mandatory." Very happy to hear that there are other Whitney enjoyers here and that you were able to come away with a positive experience.

You guys should have been there last month. The 99 Switchbacks were snowed over and because they always get filled with cornices that way, you have to get your crampons and ice axe and start trudging up the snow chute that goes from Consultation Lake (the one right before the switchbacks that OP saw fish in) to the trail crest. You glissade down as well, which is terrifying at first but is one of the most memorable parts of the climb. Took 20 hours rather than 15 due to a combination of altitude sickness and helping a scared girl on the trail crest learn to glissade, which slowed our descent considerably.

This was my fifth summit--first one was when I was 13. This one was definitely my favorite, as I'd previously only done it in the late summer but I love more technical climbs. Everyone on the trail was super friendly and it was a pleasure to chat with strangers when I would otherwise not be keen to do so.

It was also nice to see that the grandfather of the Mt. Whitney climbing community, Doug, is still alive and kicking at the Whitney Portal store, which he built from my understanding.

OP: For your next climb, if you're intent on doing it in a day, try to take Diamox a few days before to speedrun the acclimitization process. It's definitely possible to summit without it but it's needless misery that takes away your ability to enjoy the moment. The appetite loss from altitude is difficult to overcome, but if you're intent on taking on altitude wthiout acclimitization you probably need to x2 your food and water intake. On our most recent climb I felt sick to the stomach looking at the fruit and pizza we brought up, and I was only able to eat bite-sized brownies and bite-sized beef jerky. I always know I haven't eaten enough when I start hallucinating toward the very end of the descent.

>>3708
Excellent reference and beautiful selection of passages. What is there left to say? Evola has communicated the ecstatic truth of that portion of my life better than I could ever hope to myself. I hope everyone reading this heeds the call of the wild when it stirs in them.

>>3714
Great suggestion, will keep in mind for next year. Doing that section with some winter gear would been good fun. We eyed the glissade chute from the top (see photo) and saw a few too many rocks poking their heads up so opted out, even though it would've saved the knees. Speaking of, in high school we called hiking poles 'pussy poles' because they look lame and imply physical weakness, but man was I glad that another friend brought a set of pussy poles. 6600' is a lot of repeated impact.

>>3715

Yes I've never liked the aesthetics of hiking poles. Or most hiking clothing for that matter. A lot of the aesthetics of the outdoor """industry""" are pointlessly stuck on this concept of synthetic technological superiority even as the rest of the fashion industry has moved on, even though they could probably make just as much money selling high quality wool. A lot of the improvements of modern hiking gear are completely marginal, not to mention the people who get addicted to buying ultralightweight high-tech gear with the best reviews and never end up using it.

On my last climb I kept thinking about how John Muir did these sorts of treks with hobnailed boots, canvas jackets, bread as his only food source, and of course no pharmacological assistance. And he looked all the better for it!

All that being said when it comes to performance you have to be agnostic about the lame-cool factor of your toolset. Hiking poles are useful for making shelters, water crossings, self-arrest if you don't have ice axes handy, stretchers, balancing on slippery slopes, and yes preventing impact. The thing is, the instinct to just use a damn stick has been bred out of Americans.

>>3714
Thanks for the thoughts! Fwiw it was lone pine lake not consultation lake where i napped and saw the fish. I thought about hanging out at consultation lake but it was too high still. Lone pine was just below the lower camp in the crook of the hanging valley where i had stopped throwing up.

On food strategy, i ate an enormous dinner to charge up the night before, but couldn't keep anything down day of so eating became pointless. I’ll look into diamox.

So true about gear. I always just wear my normal clothes and shoes (the guys were skeptical about my flimsy low top leather flats) but i basically never have gear problems so i dont see the point in going fancy. The best gear to go to war with is the stuff you know in and out from using it every day, IMO. My only gear regret was that i should have brought long pants.