Mt. Whitney 14,496'

When viewed from highway 395, 14,496′ Mt. Whitney and neighboring Day and Keeler Needles hardly stand out amidst their neighboring peaks.  In fact, from some places the surrounding peaks look higher and many passersby would never know that this jagged chunk of granite is the highest peak in the lower 48!  Nor would they know that it’s got a rich climbing history and two classic Sierra Nevada rock climbs scale it’s massive east face.

To be honest, Whitney first hit my list because it was just one of those “It’s in my backyard and it’s the highest in peak in the lower 48 so I might as well do it” climbs.  I’d heard the stories of the crowded summit, the lottery and trail quota hassle, and the trail to the top and it just didn’t sound like my kind of climbing.  However, as the winter snows fell, feet got strapped back into their plastic cocoons, and I started reading up on the peak I started to get intrigued.  Betcha the crowds don’t climb it in the winter.  Betcha the skiing in the Mountaineer’s Route is good.  Wouldn’t it be cool to climb the East Buttress and then ski corn snow back to camp?  Those thoughts coupled with my buddy Jake being eager to get a climb in before we headed back to Alaska got the ball rolling.

First, some history.  During the 1860’s and 1870’s folks were confused about which peak in the Sierras was the highest.  Clarence King thought he spied it while surveying with the California Geological Survey, and set out to climb it.  When he topped out, he was disappointed to realize that he had climbed the wrong peak.  A second attempt resulted in failure, but finally on his third attempt he believed he’d made the first ascent.  Imagine his disappointment when a couple years later it was discovered that he’d actually climbed Mt. Langley which is a few hundred feet lower and 5 miles to the south of the summit of Mt. Whitney.  He raced out west from New York to reclaim his achievement, but he’d been beaten to it.

By the late 1920’s the mountain had a pretty good trail to the summit and was not a lonely place on a summer day.  All ascents to this point had been via the easier south and west sides of the mountain with one exception (that lasted for half a century).  John Muir climbed a narrow gully just north of the sheer eastern face in 1873.  Upon completing the climb Muir warned that “soft, succulent people should go the mule way”.  This route is known today as the Mountaineer’s Route and is actually a popular descent route off of the mountain.

The sheer East Face of the mountain was never even considered as a climb until 1931 when organized roped climbing made its debut in California.  It was then that some big names in early California climbing history scouted out and climbed the classic East Face Route.  In August of 1931, Robert Underhill, Jules Eichorn, Glen Dawson, and Norman Clyde scouted and climbed the route in a stunning 3 1/4 hours.  A time that is rarely equaled today.  Along the way they named the famous “Fresh Air Traverse” which in Clyde’s words was an area that “proved to be one requiring considerable steadiness, as the ledges were narrow and there was a thousand feet of fresh air below.”  Glen Dawson returned to Whitney in 1937 and with his brother Muir, Robert Brinton, and Howard Koster, became the first to climb the classic East Buttress route on the mountain.  This was a more sustained route than the East Face and Dawson was glad he’d worn tight fitting tennis shoes on the route.

Basecamp

So, setting out in the footsteps of some of the greats, Jake and I made our way to our base camp on the mountain.  It was fun to read the history of the area and try to picture ourselves back in the ’30’s contemplating climbing this chunk of rock for the first time ever.  As we ascended the Mountaineer’s Route, I tried to picture John Muir, his horse tied up in a meadow below, picking his way solo through the scree and boulders as he made his way up.  Upon reaching the summit, we found a different sort of history in the old Smithsonian Institute shelter; where researchers had been stationed to determine if there was any water vapor in the atmosphere of Mars. All in all a beautiful summit day and enjoyable climbing.

The day following our first ascent, we decided to climb the mountain again via the East Buttress Route.  It’s a classic Sierra climb.  1,000 vertical feet.  11 pitches.  Great exposure.  Great rock.  Rich history.  As I placed my cams, smeared with my ultra-sticky 5.10 rock shoes, and belayed with my kern-mantle dynamic climbing rope, I couldn’t help but think back, with huge respect, to the guys who first climbed this route with tennis shoes and hemp ropes, only placing 4 pitons on the entire route.  I clipped one of their pitons as we climbed by to honor their achievement.  Jake and I reached the top as the sun was dipping low in the sky and felt elated with completing the climb.

As we drove away, Whitney faded back into the surrounding mountains.  Our experience, however, won’t fade away for a long time.  With the spectacular setting and great climbing we were pleasantly surprised and I’m sure we’ll return some day.  Maybe the Fishook Arete on neighboring Mt. Russell…….

Topping out on the East Buttress