I didn’t want to jinx myself and start writing too soon since this was my third attempt at climbing Mt. Whitney in three years, but I began writing this post as I sat at Whitney Portal acclimatizing at 8,300 feet on a gorgeous Sunday in August.
My journey began the day before, when I made my way from Las Vegas to Lone Pine, CA, through Death Valley National Park, which had just reopened that day due to the major flash flooding that occurred a few weeks before.
Death Valley is one of the most unique places I’ve ever been, and as I wrote in my post last summer, it is otherworldly, reminding me of pictures of Mars. Although it was 117 degrees like it was when I was there last year, the landscape looked completely different. The rain turned the tumbleweed and cacti into rolling dunes of green, and the red rock was bleached bone white from the salt beds staining everything from the floods. What was also amazing is that the water flooded with such force that the sides of the roads were carved into canyons. It’s amazing the damage flash floods caused while simultaneously creating such beauty.
Notes from my phone written at Whitney Portal on Sunday, August 28 about driving through Death Valley the day before:
What made it even more spectacular was the sunset that brought out wild horses and burros. Yup, totally weird, as there is nothing around, and these animals were just meandering through the desert eating the now lush vegetation.
With the sun setting, everything looked very different, as the shadows began to cast on the sand and salt beds, giving the desert a yin and yang look of black and white. After a long day of travel, driving through all of this with no radio or cell service was a great way to kick off my trip to the Sierra Nevada.
I do have to admit though…once it got dark, all I wanted to do was get the hell out of Death Valley, as I didn’t want to be abducted by a UFO. Then again, I guess that’d be a unique experience, but I didn’t feel like being probed before my climb!
As I acclimated and wrote at Whitney Portal, I enjoyed the peacefulness of the mountains with nothing but the rush of a waterfall where I sat. A change from last year to this year is that the range in front of Mt. Whitney was totally torched from last year's fire that I experienced. Fortunately, Whitney Portal and the higher altitudes of the mountain range were salvaged where I acclimatized and was feeling strong after logging two five-hour hikes above 10,000 feet. I was now ready for my summit bid on the tallest mountain in the continental U.S.
Notes from my phone written on day one of three of my summit bid at High Camp (Upper Boy Scout Lake, 11,338 feet) on Tuesday, August 30:
A gorgeous but steep ascent on a bluebird day up to camp at 11,000+ feet. Beginning of another heat streak, so got toasted above the treeline as there was nothing but glacier-carved granite that radiated serious heat. Awesome SE approach climbing up through a canyon-like gully that pins you in on both sides by thousand-foot cliffs. Was definitely NOT expecting class 3 scrambling with 40+ pound packs while traversing along the natural cracks of the rock hundreds of feet off the ground. A bit of a mind-fuck, as we weren't roped up. More nervous about going back down on Thursday.
Hit high camp at Upper Boy Scout Lake around 4 pm. We’re already in the shadows of the summit, with the temps dropping from the 70s to the 40s in a matter of minutes. I’m feeling strong with plenty left in the tank for the summit tomorrow, no effects from the altitude.
After a great night’s sleep, day two started at 3 am with breakfast under the stars. At the high altitude with no humidity and a clear, cool night, it felt like you could touch the Milky Way. I have to say it was one of the best views of the stars I’ve ever seen. That combined with the silence from being up so high and no one else around made for a unique experience and a great start to summit day.
My guide Neil and I then made our way through the dark towards the summit. As the sun rose, you could see the summit tower over us with serious exposure as I traced our route (the Mountaineers Route) up the 2,500-foot vertical wall that now glowed orange from the sunrise.
But no big deal, that is part of the thrill and what ropes and harnesses are for, right?? Feeling really good, Neil and I scrambled our way up the steep couloir, where around 13,500 feet I began to feel the effects of the altitude, which I wasn’t expecting as I was feeling like a rock star up to that point. Physically, I felt strong and had a lot left in the tank, but I started getting that slow-motion feeling that I’ve felt in the past at higher altitudes.
After a break at 14,000 feet, some food and water snapped me slightly out of the high altitude funk, but then I realized I was staring at the most technical part of the climb. Apparently the last 500 feet of the route, you have two options. One is an easier but longer approach that wraps around to the Western face of Mt. Whitney; the other is the direct, technical approach on the North Face, which goes straight up the 500-foot ledge with 2,500 feet of exposure. My guidebooks only spoke of the Western access and not of the direct route, so let’s just say I wasn’t prepared for the North Face option.
But of course, this was a guided climb, so we were climbing the cold, shadowy, difficult North Face with some class 5 moves. As we roped up to scale the last 500 feet to the summit, I started getting inside my own head, letting the altitude and technical aspect of the climb play mind games with me, which is never good in technical climbing situations.
At 14,000 feet, having to do the most technical moves made for some scary moments. Being roped up and on belay helped, but at that point being exposed and a bit foggy from the altitude kicked the mind games into overdrive, making me think to myself, Why the fuck am I doing this?? This is crazy!! Is it ever going to be over? Holy shit…you mean I have to come back down this??? If I slip, I’m done…I'll flop through the air for god knows how long! Those kinds of thoughts aren’t good, as they had me second-guessing everything I did, killing my confidence and flow when pulling off a move.
In climbing, these thoughts are dangerous, because when you hesitate, you make mistakes and can die. Weirdly enough, despite having these negative thoughts, there was no doubt in my mind that I was going to summit. Thankfully, less than an hour later, I was standing on top of Mt. Whitney, the tallest mountain in the contiguous U.S. at 14,505 feet.
Mt. Whitney proved to be a challenging climb, but it provided phenomenal views of one of the most unique mountain ranges I’ve ever climbed. The entire Eastern-facing side of the range has massive pillars standing thousands of feet high, providing awesome views of the world literally dropping off below. For the entire climb, you are surrounded by these huge ledges, leaving you no option but to ultimately climb up them in order to reach the summit. Top that with perfect weather making for perfect views of the surrounding 14,000-foot peaks.
Although the views were phenomenal, by the time I got to the top, the altitude had hit me pretty hard. Feeling sluggish and in a bit of a fog, it was hard to enjoy my accomplishment of summiting Mt. Whitney, which had taken me three years to reach. Plus, I began playing Jedi mind tricks on myself with regard to descending the technical part we just climbed up.
Looking back, I wish I would have enjoyed my time on the summit more, as the views were beautiful and it was a heck of an accomplishment. The good thing is that I was physically fit and strong for this climb, but I wasn’t as mentally prepared as I should have been regarding the technicality and exposure at the higher altitudes. I know better, and I know the dangers of second-guessing and/or hesitating, especially on the higher, more technical parts of a mountain. It disappoints me because I feel the mental aspect robbed me of truly enjoying my celebration on the summit.
With the combination of the climb, weather, views and three days of being fully disconnected, Mt. Whitney was just what I needed to reset. It provided a good litmus test as to how off-balance I’ve been, especially from a mental aspect. It was clear I haven’t been my true self due to working too much and therefore not clearing my mind and maintaining balance.
I know this because if I had been balanced, I would have been better prepared mentally and would have performed better overall on my climb, avoiding hesitation and negative thoughts. In fact, as I look back, not living a balanced life impacted me in all aspects of my life, not just mountaineering. It was clear my work and life in general had been suffering as well, due to burnout and not being as sharp and focused as I could or should have been, which meant not putting in my best effort.
This then leaves the big unanswered question at the end of my journey in the Sierra Nevada mountains: How do I effectively achieve that balance?
Some things I can control and some things I can’t, so how do I avoid the rinse and repeat cycle of work and life? I talk about balance and being the “Best Ben” possible, and then I come home from a climb and within days, I’m back to the normal grind of work, which is why I’m writing about this adventure four months after my summit.
These days, I know I’m not the only one in this situation, as it seems like everyone I talk to feels the same, no matter their age or job. So, other than retirement, what is the secret sauce to achieving that true balance in life in order to become the person I used to be? I still don’t know the full answer, but I do know that with each expedition, I gain greater awareness of myself and have learned how to decompress and reset, which maybe one day might lead me to identify the “secret sauce” that will help me achieve true balance.
Until then…I guess I will have to continue my journeys until the mystery is solved!
Climb On!
Check out the Gallery for more photos of my 2023 Mt. Whitney climb!