being there

by josh marcus

Whitney's back door

IF I WERE to compare the experience of hiking up Mt. Whitney, the highest mountain in the continental United States, to traversing the Bay Bridge during Friday rush hour with an overturned tractor-trailer in the right-hand lane, you'd think I was crazy. Yet the fact is, both experiences are grueling, tedious, likely to make you sick, and lacking in much wilderness appeal.

Whereas motorists can wait for the bridge traffic to subside, would-be Whitney hikers have to apply for a permit months in advance through a lottery system. Some wait years to ascend the summit. And of those who go, many hike the 22 miles (and 6,000 feet of elevation gain)round trip in one day, preferring the risk of altitude sickness and physical exhaustion to dealing with the throngs along the trail and in the campsites.

Don't be discouraged, though. As two friends of mine (who'd never been on an overnight hike) and I recently discovered, an alternative, four-day route allows you to avoid driving in permit bureaucracy and reach the peak via a winding trail through spectacular and rugged wilderness, virtually alone.

We spent our first night in Onion Valley, a mile above Independence, the closest town. Though steep and windy, the road up is well paved and offers a fascinating transition from the Owens Valley desert to the precipitous flank of the eastern Sierra. Despite being above 9,000 feet, occasional sagebrush, which feeds the pronghorn antelope, mixes in with the pine trees, which cool and protect the black bears.

The initial climb the next day through manzanita slopes quickly drenched us with sweat. Soon, though, the trail gradient lessened, and we followed wildflower-lined Independence Creek up to its sources, a series of pristine lakes. After that, the landscape transformed into a moonscape of rock, snow, and ice. At nearly 12,000 feet, with spectacular views of the Owens Valley and High Sierra, Kearsarge Pass is the lowest part of the Sierra crest in the area. That and its gentle grade made it a trading route for the Monarche and Pauite hundreds of years ago.

We descended to the Kearsarge Lakes and Pinnacles, met the John Muir and Pacific Crest Trail, and by evening were in Vidette Meadow, along Bubbs Creek. Our dinner consisted of rice and beans mixed with mosquito carcasses, and we slept (rather unsuccessfully) on a tarp to the tune of bzzz in our ears as our flesh was picked at through our clothes. (Recommendation: Camp above the meadow, where nighttime temperatures are cooler and there's less standing water.)

Early the next morning we began the long, gradual, enticing climb to Forester Pass – a border between two national parks, Sequoia and Kings Canyon, that provides an expansive vista of some of the country's most rugged land. Only near the top did it steepen and fill with snow fields. I managed in sandals, but I certainly wouldn't advise it.

The next 12 miles alternated between treeless, panoramic ridges and high alpine forest. To the east were the highest mountains in the lower 48; to the west, Kern Canyon, one of the deepest in the United States. The mosquitoes were less abundant and the daytime temperatures perfect for hiking.

The John Muir Trail separates from the Pacific Crest Trail here, and we followed the former east toward Sierra Crest. Near the treeline the Whitney massif uncloaked itself, rearing its impressive and daunting face. We camped above Guitar Lake among rocks, grasses, marmots, and melting snow. Soon after the sun retreated, the full moon appeared above Whitney, absorbing nearly all of the sunlight and exposing, in the absence of clouds, wind, or trees, the dynamic play of light and shadow.

The next morning, too cold to wait for my friends to pack, I climbed the switchback alone. At Trail Crest a marmot was going through some hikers' bags, a sign I'd now joined the Whitney highway. My friends arrived, and we began the two-and-a-half-mile jaunt along the crest to the top.

I won't describe the peak, nor the rest of the hike down to the Whitney Portal. It's been done often, and you're better off experiencing it yourself. I will predict, though, that you'll be thrilled you also experienced the trail less traveled.

Josh Marcus (jdmarcus@gmail.com) writes about sustainable development, culture, and travel.

Trip planner

The hike is about 47 miles and can be done in four days. At least one person in the group should have significant backpacking experience; everyone should be reasonably fit. I used Tom Harrison's "Mt. Whitney High Country" map as my primary guide.

September is a perfect time to go, as the days tend to be clear and crisp, and the unusually deep snowpack this year will have had more time to melt. For more information go to the Inyo National Forest site at www.fs.fed.us/r5/inyo/about/index.shtml.