Mt Whitney

Mt Whitney, at 14,505' altitude, is the highest peak in the continental USA.  Thus, it seemed a good candidate for the crowning achievement of my mountain climbing days.  I started investigating the particulars in early 1990, intending to do the climb the coming summer.  Knowing it was really just a long hike (if done in summer) instead of a climb - no technical expertise or special equipment required - I planned to invite family members to join me.

There were two small camping areas well above treeline that had a few spots cleared for backpack-sized tents.  Establishing a base camp and spending the first night in one of those areas was desirable because you could do the climb in 2 days instead of 1, and get well acclimated to the high altitude before going for the summit.   But: you had to reserve a campsite a year in advance.  Given the timing, no way was I gonna get one of those spots, much less 2 or 3 for my fellow climbers.

Whitney Portal Campground at 8100' elevation was the only other viable starting-point.   Portal/summit/Portal is 22 miles with an elevation gain/loss of 6405'.  Challenging but doable - with the fringe benefit of not having to schlep camping gear several miles uphill.  And back down again.

I sent out feelers to family members and got 3 takers: my brother Pat, and siblings Mary Kay and Steve, niece and nephew.  We set the dates, and I reserved 3 nights at Portal Campground: 2 nights to get altitude acclimated before the climb, plus the night of the climb.  I rented a sleeps-six motorhome from a private party in Las Vegas.  We'd all arrive in Vegas on the same day, Mary Kay flying in from Beijing, Pat and Steve from the Twin Cities, Patty (my ex) and I from Portland.  Patty was along for the ride, would not attempt to summit.

We arrived on schedule, took a taxi to the home of the RV owner, stowed our gear in the motorhome, and went grocery shopping before driving to Portal.  And then disaster struck: the motorhome fridge didn't work.  We returned the RV to the owner, who tried to get the fridge going but failed.  He said he'd get it fixed early the next day.  So, no choice really: spend the night in Vegas and lose a day of acclimation at Portal.  So be it.  We rented a car and a couple motel rooms, went out for dinner and, at Steve's insistence (first time in Vegas), sat through a lackluster topless girly show.

To be continued.