Outside Magazine

At 3 a.m. on June 10, my brother-in-law Dan and I started walking uphill from the Whitney Portal trailhead. Our goal: the top of California’s 14,494-foot Mount Whitney, three hours north of Los Angeles, at the southern end of the Sierra Nevada. It’s the tallest peak in the lower 48, and the grueling 11-mile hike gains more than 6,000 vertical feet on its way to the summit. I’d scored a hard-to-get permit through the Forest Service’s online lottery in March, paid my $15, and spent the past few months training with long runs and high-elevation hikes. For years I’ve wanted to stand on that peak, and finally the pieces were coming together.

I’d read online that the trail wasn’t entirely melted out and that the steep section of the hike known as the Chute, at about 12,500 feet, was still covered in snow and ice. Crampons and ice axes were required to ascend it. I’m not a veteran mountaineer, but I’ve climbed a dozen or so 14ers. I had the necessary gear and experience using it.

It didn’t take long to realize, though, how significantly unprepared other hikers on the mountain were. While picking up our permit at the ranger’s station the day before the hike, I overheard a couple chatting with a ranger. “You need crampons and ice axes and to know how to use them,” the ranger said. “We do?” the guy asked. “Where can we get some?”