Mt. Whitney at Sunrise

The first rays of morning light hit the High Sierras.   We woke up in the middle of the night at Guitar Lake and packed up to hike the last miles up to Mt. Whitney for sunrise.  When we looked up the trail in the darkness, we could see dots of headlamps snaking their way up the mountain and strings of headlamps could be seen below us too.  We weren't alone in our quest for the sunrise on Whitney.

"Day 17, 2:30AM, alarm sounds, headlamps on, camp wrapped up, and on our way following the line of lights zig zagged up the canyon walls into the darkness, where hiker lights and stars merged into confusion. Dropped bags at Trail Crest 13,650 ft., when black sky turned to dark blue. Scampered on rocks along the ridge passing window crevices between the jagged rocks, looking out east to the neon lines on the horizon. Just two miles but almost a lifetime as we made our way up to the icy cold of Mt. Whitney. Standing on the cliffs edge, looking out in all directions on top of the world as the sun's first rays graced the earth. Underdressed and light headed, soon ready to get down to normalcy even with the brief comfort of pushups and Whitney hut." - Taun Taun

Wondrous Beauty

J Bear, hands in pockets, nearing the top

All of us on top of Mt. Whitney, the highest summit in the contiguous United States at 14,505 feet high

Hugs all around...

Going up to Mt. Whitney was a glorious climax to the John Muir Trail section of the PCT.  Strolling up Whitney was probably the highlight of all my backpacking trips.  And being able to share the epic experience of going that high and walking through such magnificent rocks with such dramatic views with my brothers and friends was an amazing blessing.

The Trail Crest junction below the summit

"Rich ripped his shirt off. Brujo and Khaas celebrated. I popped round pills wishing myself grace through 8 final miles of sweet, sweet pain. Smiles graced our faces as we whipped by the miserable folks hiking up 6,000 feet to Whitney. Looking down on the Alabama Hills the way the Hebrews looked down on Canaan when coming from 40 years of desert. Climbed a gorgeous valley down to Whitney Portal beers and burgers. Climbed the peaks of awareness of the natural world. Climbed up the heights of pain and human strength. Climbed 205 miles and 8 mountain passes over 17 days. Cuz what else are we gonna do, but keep on climbing." 

- Taun Taun

Forrester Pass to Guitar Lake

Atop Forrester Pass, the highest point (over 13,000 ft) along the Pacific Crest Trail 

Looking South

Phyzio + Deepak Chopat embrace.

"Richard and I got the early start that morning after our ritual morning water pump. Enjoying the valley views and colorful characters. A burly middle-aged fella named Paint Yer Wagon let us know of every beer-carrying store and bar between Lone Pine and Mammoth. Learning of our Oklahoma contingent, he recalled his time doing construction in rural OK building a pizza inn, and an ex-con in his crew words on jail: blood on my knife or shit on my dick. Very well, we'll be on our way. Up and up, Rich took the lead as Phil and I meandered on to 13,180 feet. I wouldn't be fooled this time, when we got to one peak, knew it was still aways away. Clop, clop, clop, 1, 2, 3, 4 all the way up to 957 when i jump aboard Forrester Pass, our last and highest pass of the trip. Whitney becoming real, it's faint slanted mesa-like silhouette in the distance, tallest point in the lower 48, yet blended into the landscape. Found a site on Tyndall Creek 12 miles in, quickly crowding as the novice weekend warriors pile in with their fat bellies, fancy gear and petty concerns." - Taun Taun

J Bear and El Brujo

Me (Fire Belly)

The further north we traveled along the John Muir Trail section, the more the landscape looked Martian.

Phyzio, probably resting on his laurels after an amazing victory in our stick race down a creek.

"We'd make base camp at Guitar Lake, last developed sites before Whitney up through the barkless gnarled trees in Crabtree Meadow. Curved our way past the point of no return, picking up Wag Bags to store feces in case our will power not to crap caved in. Turned burners on full throttle boiling up all the cous cous and macaroni and wonton loading up for the final ascent. " - Taun Taun

Upper Rae Lakes and Glen Pass

"Hit stride, with only some days to the finish line. Good timing for our big 17 miler, down the valley, across the Indiana Jones suspension bridge, up passed the curious trout in Dollar Lake. Up through the heavenly Rae Lakes before the evil Glen Pass. Oh Upper Rae, with your sandy white beaches, clear turquoise water surrounded by soaring granite peaks, a cool wind across the water—that complimentary meal of your choice before getting fried in the death chamber—switch, back, switch, back, shit. I could've sworn that was the top, but now whole 'nother mountain endlessly rising. Bitch, groan, and gripe to the top finally upticking the sides of my lips in an exhausted smile. Better enjoying the view 11,978 feet, amidst rants of some drunk Alabaman named Som' Peach extolling his sexual prowess and Crimson Tide dominance. Tumbled a couple thousand feet down the dry rocky mountain in the later afternoon sun, settling down at Vidette Meadow." - Taun Taun

Itchy atop Glen Pass

J Bear on top of Glen Pass

Going down the other side

Over Mather Pass and Pinchot Pass

On top of Mather Pass

"Finally feeling some peace of mind, sprung up bright and early for a double pass day. A quick jaunt got us up to 12,100 feet atop Mather Pass then down along the South Fork King River, the land changing more Martian-like at the higher elevations. Passed Bench Lake where the infamous Ranger Randy Morgenson had lost his mind, us also with screws loose but not quite crossing that line. A swim break on Lake Marjorie giving just enough mojo to get up pinche Pinchot Pass at 12,130 feet. After some aching and complaining and photo shoot, made it 15 miles on the day down to Sawmill Junction for the usual camp candor, lentils and ramen and...jokes." - Taun Taun

The group thaws out in the sun after shivering most of the night.

El Brujo investigates his broken hiking pole.

See the switchbacks?

My brothers heading down the south side of Mather Pass

Phyzio hugs Pinchot Pass

On Pinchot Pass