Monday, July 14, 2008

Oh boy

Saturday was the big day. The day my dad duped me into joining him in a brutal, stupid, and prideful hike. I'm a little bitter. Mount Whitney is the second to last one on the right. This picture was taken at about 12,000 feet.



Here are some pictures on my photobucket if you want more: Mount Whitney

One thing that I noticed real quick is that pictures can't describe the awesomeness of these mountains. Truly, a sight to see.

Starting at Big Pine, CA, the Sierra's started getting pretty crazy. Rigid like a breadstick. They come out of the smoke filled sky like a giant from the mist. I started looking at the huge peaks and ask myself "And we are climbing the biggest one...how?" They look pretty much impossible. It was definitely beautiful, though.

We camped at 8,000 feet. At 9:00pm it had to be in the low 80's, so it was really hard to get to sleep because it was so hot. I think the last time I looked at my watch it was 2 in the am. Mind you, we are getting up at 3am to start hiking. So after a good hour of solid sleep, we wake up, pack everything and start hiking at 3:50am. By 3:55 I was wondering what we were doing and why, and praying for my second wind. It came and I survived. It felt like I was on a hike to Mordor to destroy something that was consuming me in some way. The whole way up I could only think on why am I doing this, just to say that I have? I'm pretty sure that's pride. I knew I wasn't going to enjoy the hike. I love to be outdoors, but 22 miles and 8,000+ feet in elevation gain is just for the suck. I began to wonder if indeed it was pride that was driving me up this hill. Then I began to recognize that pride was probably the number one cause for the hundreds of people on the same path I was. I wanted off. There is a section called the 100 switchbacks where I experienced vertigo quite often. I couldn't help but think of how many people could die if they exerted themselves too much on this trail. At about 10,000 feet my dad was really struggling. About every 2 or 3 minutes I would hear a faint "Dave, I need to take a break. There is just no oxygen up here." I could breath fine though.

So on the top of the 100 switchbacks, there is a place called Trail Crest. And those switchbacks really took their toll, especially for my dad. Who I was really concerned if we should even be going on at this point, but low and behold he "was too determined" (I saw pride). This is where I got pretty frustrated and about 20 people experienced me talking to my dad like a little child. Note that this the very top of a 2 mile climb with about a 15% grade the whole way, and we are exhausted, and we just got done talking about how we both got vertigo a lot on the switchbacks. I was okay, but my dad looked like he was about to fall over. So I took a picture of the Trail Crest sign that shows the elevation at 13,600 feet, I turn around and my dad is climbing this cliff so I can take a picture of him sitting on this cliff. I yelled "would you get off of there, your going to get yourself killed." I was pissed, here is my dad who I am trying to convince to really take it easy and here he is climbing this cliff just to take a picture. That was pride. And that's what got me thinking for the rest of the hike.
Here is the picture. You really can't tell, but that rock is poking out of the ground at an angle and underneath it is about a mile of air. It makes me feel ill just looking at the picture.




There were clouds brewing once we could see the other side of the range at Trail Crest. And my dad and I both vowed that the first sign of lightning we are turning back immediately. This is because we are on the tallest mountain around, with 50 people or so on the top carrying metal lightning poles, I mean walking sticks. Many people die at the top because of lightning. So I decided to go at my own pace to the top. I left my dad with about a mile and a half to the top. In my mind, if I got to the top and turned around, my dad would say, "at least one of us made it" and it would be easier to turn him around because of the clouds. At 11 o’clock I hear the first crack of thunder. I ask someone coming down about how much further to the top and one says 15-20 min, and another says 20-30 mins. I knew that there was a building at the top. I just wanted a picture of the building to show my dad and I was done. I got there in 11 minutes. The last two people I passed, had passed us at 12,000 feet, and they said, "you set the pace and we'll follow you." I agreed and they were right behind me for about 100 feet. I looked up saw the building, took a picture and turned around. They tried to tell me "you have to go further than that, your almost there." Bull. I was there, and I'm not going to risk my life just to bask in my prideful endeavor. When I turned around I saw all the people I passed still coming up the hill. As I ran (literally ran) past them on my way down, I couldn't help but think of all the reasons why this was not worth it, and there were many.

I came to the conclusion that there are three groups of people who hike things like this:
1) They love to hike and love the outdoors (those are the ones that passed you with a smile on their face)
2) They want to hike because it's a trail they haven't been on before and it's another great experience (those are the ones who take a break next to you and seem to be interested in your life, I think they also hike to make new friends)
3) They hike because they enjoy telling their friends what they're doing and hearing "Man, you're crazy" (these are the ones who look like death, but keep climbing up)

I fear my dad and I were in group 3. Along with many others I'm sure. But I don't want to be in that group. I'm done. Anything over 3 miles better have some dang good fishing at the top. I love the outdoors, it reminds me of how beautiful life is, but 22 miles is evil.

7 comments:

laura said...

I just have one thing to say...
Man, you're crazy!!!!!

Murdoc said...

13 hours. I can think of a better way to spend 13 hours. Some of it involves sleep, coffee, a bagel, and air conditioning.

digapigmy said...

but did you get to the road at the top? you know, the one you can see from where you're staying? that's what most of my hikes seem to be about.

jami said...

does your wife know your this insane?

Señor H said...

My wife loves it.

Matty C. said...

Still a pretty cool achievement Dave.

I think you could be in group #1 but discovered your limits.

13 hours of little oxygen doesn't sound so fun, it's sounds like an asthma attack.

Erica said...

Hubbies family is in all 3 categories. Once in a while is fine for me and just because it is crazy/ physical suicide but it has a great view doesn't make it fun in my eyes.