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had eyed Mount Whitney for

years, but my aversion to crowds and

permits had kept me from attempting it

during the summer climbing season. Its

reputation for being a mob magnet for

weekend mountaineers eager to step on

the highest point in the lower 48 is notwithout justication.

Mount Whitney is the most frequently

climbed peak in the Sierra Nevada, if not

the U.S., according to the National Park

Service.

Each year more than 15,000 people

attempt to top out on Whitney, 14,496

feet. Its no easy physical feat to be sure,

but with a 10.5-mile trail from parking lot

to summit, its a non-technical climb thats

within reach of decently conditioned

hikers.

To thin the herd, the Forest Service

employs a quota system from May to

November, limiting the number of people

on the trail to 60 overnight backpackers

and 100 day-hikers. Thats a good thing.

Imagine the trafc jam on the infamous

97 switchbacks without it.

With so many other attractive mountains

in the Sierra within easier reach of mySan Francisco home, Whitney just never

seemed worth the hassle. Until, I learned

about the backcountry skiing potential of

the peak. Overnight I became xated on

some day arcing turns down its steep, lofty

anks.

Window WatchingThroughout the winter of 05, I tracked

conditions in the Eastern Sierra, looking

for a decent weather window. In earlyMarch, it arrived. In classic weekend-

warrior style, I loaded my Suby with

gear and made a bee-line for Lone Pine

well, as much of a bee-line as one can

make exiting the Bay Area on a Friday

afternoon.

Trapped in my car, it

dawned on me that I

had chosen perhaps the

furthest destination in

the state, at least during

winter when the moresoutherly passes over the Sierra are

buried in snow. I couldve driven up to

Mount Rainier in the same amount of

time. With stops for gas and In-N-Out,

it was early the next morning when I

reached snowline on Whitney Portal

Road, about two miles shy of the trailhead

parking lot at 8,360 feet.

Even more ecstatic that the nine-hour

car ride was over was Mingus, my Chow

Chow-Golden Retriever. An ever-ready

mountaineering buddy with a powder

hounds love for snow, Mingus has been

my faithful partner on many backcountry

skiing adventures. He even carries his own

food in pooch panniers.

On The TrailAfter snoozing for a few hours, I geared

up and started skinning up the road in

pitch black. I put a headlamp around

Mingus neck so I could keep track of him

and call him back if he wandered off.

My plan was simple: Go as high as I

could, keeping a close eye on snow andweather conditions, play it safe, and enjoy

the descent. Prior experience had taught

me that so many things can derail a 14er

summit attempt that I was skeptical of

success. Its all a crap shoot when so much

depends on weather and snow conditions.

Soft, Succulent Types NotRecommendedSki ing Whitneys Mount aineers Route in a Day

By Yu Kuwabara

I

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Under a new moon, the darkness was

unchallenged by the points of light above.

Once I cut over to the North Fork of

Lone Pine Creek, where my route diverged

from the standard Mount Whitney Trail,

I habitually checked my GPS to make

sure I was heading in the right direction.

When the sun came up, the alpenglow on

the snow uncovered two tents pitched on

Lower Boy Scout Lake. I dont think there

is a weekend where you wont run into

other climbers on this popular peak.

Fishermans Peak?The rst recorded ascent of Mount

Whitney was claimed by three

shermen on August 18, 1873, justa few weeks before Clarence King, one

of the pioneering mountaineers of the

Sierra, climbed it. In honor of the rst

ascent party, the residents of Owens

Valley wanted to change the name of

the mountain to Fishermans Peak. In

fact, a bill was introduced into the state

legislature to change the name. The

governor vetoed the bill, keeping the

original name Mount Whitney, after the

leader of the California Geological Surveyteam, Josiah Whitney.

Despite being tested by several steep

sections, I was able to skin up all the way

to Iceberg Lake (12,600 feet), where I left

Mingus pannier lled with his food and

water, along with some extra snacks and

water for myself. From here, I put the

skis on my back, crampons on my boots,

and started up the Mountaineers Gully, an

obvious couloir of snow leading up the

right shoulder of Whitney.

John Muir, who was a remarkably t

mountaineer in addition to being a poetic

naturalist, rst climbed Mount Whitney

from the east via the Mountaineers Route,

on October 21, 1873, two months after

the rst ascent. His take: Well-seasoned

limbs will enjoy the climb of 9,000 feet

required for this direct route, but soft,

succulent people should go the mule way.

Climbing the GullyI dont know about succulent, but Idenitely dont consider myself soft. I was

ready to put my well-seasoned limbs to

the test. Having kicked steps for endless

hours on Shasta, Hood, Rainier and other

mountains in the Sierra and the Cascades,

I found my rhythm quickly, assisted by

The White Stripes egging me on via my

girlfriends iPod, which I managed to

discreetly borrow for this affair.

From Iceberg Lake, the MountaineersGully appeared deceivingly short, but

it took several hours to climb. Once

you reach the top of the gully and are

thoroughly exhausted, you are just a few

hundred feet from the summit.

But take a minute or two here and really

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think about continuing on: thesketchiest section of the entire

climb lies ahead. The difculties

involve a few easy fourth-class

moves. But with telemark

boots and crampons, as I

was wearing, the challenge is

greater and the consequences

severe. A slip here would result in a 0-60

slide off a 100-plus foot cliff.

As you enter the John Muir Wilderness onyour way to the peak, the Inyo National

Forest put up a sign a few years ago in

big red letters, PEOPLE DIE HERE.

Think of that sign on this section if you

are feeling the altitude, weary from fatigue,

or the weather is deteriorating. A few

days after my summit, a solo climber fell

to his death when heavy weather moved

in and he slid down the gully and off the

precipice above the Mountaineers Route.

Since Mingus is still an amateur

mountaineer (soft and succulent?), I left

him near the top of the gully in safety,

where he was more than willing to bunk

down for a quick snooze.

Going truly solo for the last couple

hundred feet, I was greeted at the summit

of Mount Whitney by the summit hut

(built in 1909 by the Smithsonian Institute,

after the rst recorded death on Whitney

in 1904), and the highest toilet in the

lower 48. The day turned out perfect,

winds were minimal, even at the summit.

After snapping a few summit pics and

squeezing some Gu down, I started back

down.

The PayoffThe difference between mountaineering

and ski mountaineering comes at the

summit, where the fun starts for theskiers, while its usually the long slog home

for the pure mountaineers. Sure, I have

to carry more gear and hike in clunky ski

boots, but its all worth it when I carving

buttery turns past the glissaders. After the

long ascent, you strap on your skis, and in

a

little

over an hour of skiing, you

can nd yourself next to your car, looking

up at the mountain you were just standingon top of far in the distance, with a snow-

cooled beer in hand.

The Mountaineers Route was rst skied

by the late photographer Galen Rowell in

1974. A game but admittedly poor skier,

Rowell used extra short skis to pick his

way down the steeps. I had my normal-

sized skis and found the gully in good

skiing condition, stable but soft. Making

short tele turns down the gully, I quickly

reached the gear I left at Iceberg Lake. Idiscovered crows had started devouring

Mingus food. After waiting for Mingus

to eat what was left, I packed his gear in

my bag he would be hard-pressed to

keep up with me on the way down and

harvested beautiful late-winter corn snow

for the majority of the descent.

After a quick nap, I pigged out in Bishop,

soaked in some hot springs and called

it an early night at Twin Lakes, nearBridgeport. For an encore, the next day

I planned to attempt Matterhorn Peak

to top off another ne weekend in the

Sierra, sans summer crowds.

Editors Note: For a detailed

description of skiing Mount

Whitneys Mountaineers Route, see

the book 50 Classic Backcountry Ski and

Snowboard Descents in California (The

Mountaineers, $17.95) by Paul Richins Jr.

When not being the ultimate we ekend warrior,

Yu Kuwabara puts his Masters degrees in

Environmental Engineering and Public Health

from UC Berkeley to work for the California

Department of Health Services.

_ . . : :

ASJ