Day 172 - JMT Mount Whitney

Our day began in silence, at 315am in pursuit of the summit.  We walked carefully, looking for slick, sandy rocks and icy sections--not wanting to fall. Hiking along a cliff edge in total darkness was thrilling, vividly black and white. 

By 5am, we had reached the three mile marker and the turnoff up to Whitney summit. We removed the heavy items from our bags and set off towards the summit sunrise. The trail was spectacular, a special creation of this nation, winding from one side of the mountain to the other, going down and around one side before coming up to another, creating anticipation with each turn. Looking back, the sloping ridges caught the early sunset delicately. 

As we hiked along the two mile upper trail, the views east would open up for the narrowest of moments.  This opening was my favorite. 

14,000 foot cathedrals of nature thrusted towards the heavens at each turn. The summit was almost in sight, the highest peak in the lower 48 states nearly attained, the end of our 200 mile journey steps away.  And my six month adventure triumphantly yet sadly was moments from ending. 

And what a moment to end on. Thank you for joining me good friend Bob.  I loved every step:)

Sky, Meresh, Jess and another friend Jeremy joined us soon on the summit, along with six others. We did a dance of joy to mark the moment. I called my mother, father and sister to tell them I loved them and that I was alive. And I sent this photo to my family, maybe just maybe to brag about my current location on this planet. Hello world!!

We began the ten mile, 6000 foot vertical descent route down at about 9am, having spent one hour at the summit. The view at my favorite window-to-the-east was even better than before, with the blue misty mountains promenading below. 

Bob took this celebratory shot of me while I saluted the inner mountains ranges of the High Sierra. I felt lucky, as if the world had whispered its great secret in my ear. I was reluctant to let go, to leave. 

Yet I couldn't stay.  My mother had told me, when I had called her at the summit, to "come on home if you can."  My grandmother was gravely ill and wanted to see me. And I wanted to see her.  Despite having ten more planned days out west with Bob, including trips to Yosemite Valley and Big Sur, I knew I needed to go home now. So, as we hiked back down to civilization, we arranged for Bob to ride with Sky and Meresh to San Francisco where his aunt lived, and I would rest a night in Lone Pine and then drive back home to North Carolina tomorrow morning. 

But first, burgers, fries and beer!!!!!!!!!

We descended down the mountain like animals.  One valley came into view, we climbed down to it, another valley came into view, we climbed down. Valley after valley we went, sharing our JMT success with everyone who asked and feeling quietly sorry for the souls climbing up not down. 

After three hours of relentless decline, our knees and feet on fire, we made it down to Whitney Portal parking lot and the restaurant there. I looked back up the mountain one last time... and smiled, proud and humbled, gracious and honored, happy.

Let me tell you: a burger, fries and beer is  heavenly after 16 days of trail mix and water. Just heavenly.  But, a shower is even better. 

Sky dropped me off at the van in Lone Pine.  Bob left his heavy gear with me and we said goodbye-- a quick and unceremonial goodbye considering the magnitude of our dual accomplishment-- but Sky and Meresh had to be on, seven hours to San Francisco, life must go on. I would see Bob soon. He was still waiting to hear from his aunt. I hoped he would find a place to stay in SF. I hoped I hadn't just stranded my wornout friend. 

I checked into the hotel, taking all my hiking gear inside to sort and prepare for a marathon drive home tomorrow. I took the best shower of my life, cleaned my wounds, picked up some Chinese, ate dinner and promptly went to bed.