"So what time do you want to do Whitney tomorrow"?

Dear Friends,

The person you knew as Ben Oberhand is no longer here. Having walked 702 miles through the desert to arrive in the Sierra has brought a new person to the table. I left my desert home in order to live above 11,000 feet in the most pristine mountains in the world. The air is thin and hard to breath for most, but after being here for a while, it feels like home, and a home I don't want to leave any time soon. 

This is how it happened.

I had an amazing visit from Lindsey in Kennedy Meadows, but it didnt seem like the Kennedy Meadows that I thought it would be. It was a pretty place, but the promise of the Sierra loomed in my mind. I wanted to get going. I watched my comrades go off into the pines without me and only wondered what it was like. I finally got my chance after Lindsey and I had our farewell and bolted with an extremely heavy pack that included a bear canister and a week of food. The trail was a steady but easy climb and water was on my mind. The desert taught me so many things. It showed me the importance of strategy (survival), how to treat your body, and how to hike your own hike. I was so conditioned to the desert lifestyle that every water source i saw in the first 10 miles, I stopped and chugged a liter or two. It was my lucky day because the cicada started to scream and I just happened to read about them earlier that day. They were loud but it seemed like a beautiful thing to me, I don't get to walk into a cicada breading ground too often. The trees began to get taller and provide more shade. The mountains began to appear with snow caps and they brought joy and smiles to my face. I was alone however, I did not hike out with anybody so I had a 31 mile day in the Sierra to myself. 31 miles is a very long day, and with a heavy pack, i felt the energy coursing through my veins to get me caught up with Kitten and Busted. I found them at the end of my day, and we rejoiced as our group was back together.

Kitten then said "So what time do you want to do Whitney tomorrow?"

I paused. "What? Whitney is already tomorrow?" I asked. Kitten said it was and that we could leave at this or that time. I still had to let it settle in. We were climbing the tallest mountain in the lower 48. Its 14,500 feet to the the top. 

"We should sleep up there, wouldnt that be cool?" Kitten asked. 

This was an exciting proposition. I hadnt even considered that, just the old up down, ya know? 

We arrived at the beautiful Crabtree Meadows, the base camp for Whitney

Crabtree Meadows, Whitney basecamp

and saw other hikers coming down from the mountain with a glow in their face. I wanted to know what that was about. That mysterious glow. It was excitement and adventure that we were waiting for.

We figured that to sleep on top of Whitney, we needed all of our clothes, no tent, and some food. That made our bag lighter and eased our minds. We had been mountain climbers at this point, but this was a whole different situation. It would take 4 hours to get up. The air get thin, the sun gets intense, and its a race against time. As soon as the sun goes down, your in freezing temperatures at high altitude. We feared not, because this is what we were prepared for. I wanted it more than anything. 

The climb started with a small river crossing. I knew that when I would cross that river again I wouldnt be the same. It was 4 miles to guitar lake.  

Guitar Lake, not my photo, but a good representation. 

This was one of the most epic things I have ever seen. The water was pure snow melt. You rarely get to see this type of water in your entire life. Believe it.

There were marmots everywhere. They are probably the coolest large rodent ever made. They are my favorite animal on the trail. They seem silly, docile, and communal.

Typical marmot, they are so cool. I like to think that they have brunch on Sundays and drink mimosas. 

I got up to the top in 3 hours. The air was so thin and talking was difficult. As I approached the cabin, on the top that is used as a shelter from the elements, an overwhelming sense of accomplishment filled my mind. I just climbed the tallest mountain in the continental US. It was 15 degrees, but no wind, and the sun was setting. The oranage and pink sky reminded me of sherbert. I was covered in sweat and needed to get out of the wet clothes or I would freeze. I was so happy to be up there. The mountains below seemed like little hills with snow that you could just step on. We slept in the cabin that night, which was just a stone room with a wooden floor, no beds but I was incredibly grateful for it. We woke up at sunrise and watched the sky once again get filled with oranges, yellows, and blues. The cold air warmed up as the sun peered over the eastern deserts and shined upon the victorious hikers. I still couldnt believe where I was, so I made a cup of coffee and ate breakfast. 

We stayed on top of the mountain til 8 am, and it took us 3 hours to get back to crabtree meadows. We were no longer on the PCT, but the John Muir Trail (JMT). The JMT is full of magic and wonder. Its a trail that is a few hundred miles long but will highlight the most magnificent sights known to man. We rested a few hours and took off on the new trail and crossed various rivers with swarms of mosquitoes, more amazing meadows, and a few mellow climbs.

I slept in a rocky meadow that was littered with bear poop, but I feared not. I knew that the next day would be full of challenges, but how can you be fearful when you just slept on top of Mt. Whitney? There was two challenges however: Forrester and Kearsarge Pass. These are big beautiful mountains you must cross and a whole lot of climbing. 

Forester Pass - there was not a lot of snow but you get the idea. We cross the "v" in the middle. Its a 2500 ft. climb. 

Kearsage Pass- Unmatched beauty

I managed to get over these passes into Onion Valley and visit bullfrog lake:

Bullfrog Lake

So you can see what happens to a person when they see these things on foot in 2.5 days. You will never be the same.

I must log off for now. Back to paradise.