A Cautionary Tale of Death on Mt Whitney

Probably the last thing on 60-year-old Yukio Kato's mind when he woke up last Sunday was his own demise.  However, that's exactly what happened when Mr Kato fell 200 feet to his death from the Mt Whitney Main Trail on September 1.

According to a member of his party, Mr Kato suffered from altitude sickness for about 90 minutes before  the accident and fell on his way back from the summit.  Published accounts report he fell over a "cliff" at an altitude of 13,500 feet approximately one mile from the summit.

View of trail approximately 1 mile from the summit

Unfortunately, something in this description doesn't match up. The altitude one mile from the summit is approximately 14,000 - 14,200 feet.  It would be impossible to fall 200 feet downward at that location because the relatively mild talus and scree slope prevents a long fall.  There is no cliff.  If the altitude is correct, that places his location just past the junction with the John Muir Trail  where it narrows to four feet wide in spots with a lot of air off your left ear.  My calls to the appropriate agencies for confirmation of the fall location went unreturned so we lose an opportunity to understand exactly where this incident occurred.

The Main Trail at 13,500 feet approximately 1.9 miles from summit.  More trail visible on the sunlit midground outcrop.  Note steep dropoff.

Details are sketchy regarding the exact circumstances surrounding Mr Kato's death.  However, the trail is extremely narrow with exposure in this area because crews hewed it out of solid rock.  An altitude-sick climber like Mr Kato could simply wobble off the trail and suffer a fatal fall.  Thomas Rockwell, a Bakersfield businessman, sat with the body until relieved by Park Service personnel summoned by his personal locator beacon. 

In this article on the website bakersfieldnow.com, Mr Rockwell calls for better cel phone service on Mt Whitney in hopes of saving lives.  I will disagree respectfully with Mr Rockwell.  As my colleague, friend, and respected mountaineer Tony Yeary says, "Find safety between your ears, not in your backpack."

Nobody wants to see the backcountry studded with cel phone towers as well as the infrastructure required to service them.  The wilderness is what it is; a wild place preserved as pristinely as possible for the plants and animals living there and for future generations to get a sense of what the country was like before man put his stamp on it.  The wilderness is not an amusement park.  Therefore, we ourselves take responsibility for preparing physically, mentally, and materially to assure the safest journey possible.

I shudder to think about the other consequences of greater cel service.  People don't pay enough attention here in town already.  Imagine someone walking off a cliff while texting, "I'm having a great ti......."

We must also listen to our more sensible side because many of us suffer from what degreed professionals call "non-productive persistence."  Despite our deteriorating physical and mental condition we struggle onward, fixated on achieving our goal.  Unfortunately, we reach a point where we can go no further.  Yet we are still short of our objective and farther from home than ever.  So all we did was place ourselves in more jeopardy and turn a tough day into a potential rescue situation.

Given the sketchy information we have regarding the circumstances, Mr Kato may have pushed through several warning signs of altitude sickness in his desire to summit but did not leave enough reserve for the trip home.  Know this:  80 percent of all mountain fatalities all over the world and throughout history happen on the way back down. As Ed Viesturs so aptly put it, "Getting to the top is optional.  Getting down is mandatory."

Find the latest copy of  Accidents in North American Mountaineering.  The publishers assemble and print a new one each year.  Note how few injury accidents or deaths are due to faulty equipment.  Most injuries and fatalities occur because equipment was used improperly, used past its proper life span, or the users did not have the experience to attempt what they were attempting.  These are all preventable.  Some simply by the addition of experience.  In other words, learn to fix solid belay anchors from seasoned climbers and much practice in less dire circumstances, not from your smartphone while hanging off a cliff.

Even if you never plan to climb class 5, experience and training are important.  Learning how your mind works at altitude under stress cannot be overstated.  We all lose a few IQ points up high.  Knowing that about yourself and making good decisions is a skill acquired with practice.

Rather than more cel service, let's all acquire the skills, knowledge, and experience necessary to ensure our safe return.  The best way to signal a rescue is avoiding the need for one.

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Be Here Now - Part II

In my previous post, I wrote about finding the motivation to prepare properly for a Mt Whitney climb.  I also wrote about relating one’s mountaineering experiences to those not inclined to prepare in an effort to light a fire under them.  This is my story.

My fourth grade teacher kept a lifetime's worth of National Geographic magazines on the windowsill.  If we finished our assignment early, we could pick one out to read while waiting for the others.  While thumbing through the mag, I came upon an image much like this minus one stepdaughter. 

Trail Crest  2012 with Natalie

The view is west from Trail Crest at 13,600 feet.  The article was either about Mt Whitney or Sequoia National Park (the issue was probably from the '30s) but I can't remember.  What I do remember is thinking I'd see that place someday so my relationship with Mt Whitney began very early. 

As outlined in an earlier post, I prepared for Mt Whitney by creating a climbing list of ever-increasing difficulty (The Dirty Dozen) and augmenting the climbs by running 32 to 40 miles a week.  My climbing partner Cory and I spent a few days at Whitney Portal and set out climbing at 4:00 am.  Since we were both in shape and well-acclimated, the usual challenges didn't present much of an obstacle.  We climbed the switchbacks in just about an hour.

Our readiness also allowed us to absorb all the sights and sounds.  The line of headlamps snaking out of the Portal (Hi ho!  Hi ho!  It's off to work we go!)  Log crossing Lone Pine Creek in the dark.  The early stirrings at Outpost Camp.  The ghostly beauty of Mirror Lake in the moonlight.  The granite walls turning pink with the rising sun.  The sublimity of Trailside Meadow.  Hanging for a bit with the Trail Camp residents we met a couple of days earlier at the Portal.  Turning east and seeing The Light while blasting up the switchbacks.  None of that prepared me for what happened next.

The switchbacks end with one last long one.  A sign announces your entry to Trail Crest and Sequoia National Park.  Turn the corner and WHAM!  There it is.  The View.  The grainy flat picture from a long-ago Nat Geo living in my head for 35 years now had intense clarity, immense depth, a wind-driven soundtrack, and glorious Technicolor.  I just sobbed.

 Cory asked if I was OK.  My heart pumped pure joy but I told her about the picture so she didn't think I was nuts.  The rest of the climb was one big Whitney Love Fest.  I had a bit of vertigo on the narrow trail blasted out of solid rock but that was more weirdly fun than it was disturbing.  We made our way through the talus and scree, then held hands in a gesture of mutual accomplishment for the final pitch.

Did you ever notice the moment when the view goes 360 degrees on a summit?  One moment you have a faceful of mountain.  Suddenly, as if someone pulled back a curtain, you're conscious of a whole world opening up around you punctuated by your breathing and the crunch of your boots on the granite.  I live for that moment.  Anyway, I cried again.  On this summit, the sensations were almost too much to absorb.

The mountains are what make my heart beat.  Well, the mountains and my wife.  After all, I did join the two by climbing Whitney with my girlfriend and coming down with my fiancée.  I proposed on the highest mountain for 1,630 miles so my deceased ancestors could get a good look at the woman I would marry.

Trail Crest 2004 with Natalie's mom (Robin DeCapua photo)

Think more about what climbing Mt Whitney means to you.  Think less about what it might mean to others.   Discovering what motivates you provides the impetus for preparing yourself physically, mentally, and materially.  After all, wouldn't you want to do something you love as often as possible?  Hopefully you'll find that spark that brings it all home for you.  If after all this introspection you can't find anything to love about mountaineering or the backcountry, those of us who do will respect your choice if you back out.  In fact, we'll applaud you for it. 

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Be Here Now - Part I

Can you appreciate this or do you just want to finish?

Why do you want to climb Mt Whitney? To experience incredible sights and sounds? To satisfy that gnawing need-to-know feeling in your gut?  To feel closer to your maker?  To accomplish a long-held goal?  Or to brag about it on Facebook?

Do we pay enough attention to the journey?  Or do we fixate completely on the result?  If we ignore an opportunity for an experience to change us, do we diminish it or is bragging about the end result enough?

We can split Mt Whitney climbers into two camps.  Some climb because doing so is important to them.  Some climb because doing so is important to someone else.  Therefore, the climber may not care all that much about the process.  Generally, these are the folks who shortchange their preparation or remain willfully ignorant of the hazards or both.  They're climbing Mt Whitney because the accomplishment brings them a certain cachet within their group.  So why should they spend time preparing for something they really don't care enough about themselves? 

Are you especially motivated to prepare for tasks you don’t care about?  Maybe that’s true about your job but someone pays you to be there.  Ironically, most of these folks don't realize their true motivation.  Or they do, but fabricate some smoke screen so explaining it to others won't make them sound like a total tool.

Many climbers wish for a litmus test to separate the purists from the poseurs as a prerequisite for permission to climb their holy place.  Unlike Mt Everest, which requires certain technical skills, there couldn't be a fair exam.  Besides, who would implement it?

Here's a revolutionary idea:  What if those of us who love the mountains with all our hearts imbued the nonbelievers with the same fervor?  Attendees at my Whitney clinics respond and connect with the more personal aspects of the presentation.  I guess I seem less like Mr Climber Guy and more like someone moved by incredible life-changing experiences many people crave.  

Talk about the stuff that moves you, motivates you or scares the living daylights out of you.  Help these people feel it the way you do.

The next installment will be my attempt to do just that.

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Acclimate: The Final Four Days (Multi-Day Climb)

Solid high altitude training means climbing high pointy places like this...

 Underestimating altitude and its effects remains the most prevalent mistake made by inexperienced Mt Whitney hopefuls.  Diminished performance in an atmosphere 62 percent of sea level density represents only part of the problem.  Coping with neurological changes, blistering headaches, appetite loss, and nausea while your "engine" gets smaller and smaller complicates matters greatly.

...looking down 10,200 feet like this...

Yet, a large percentage does almost nothing to prevent symptoms of altitude sickness.  People expect to jump out of the car and summit.  Believing you are the one single soul on Earth capable of 10,000 - 12,000 feet (3048 – 3,658 m) altitude gain in one day (with the the help of your vehicle) and staying there without ill effects is either foolish or arrogant.  The only difference between the two being total ignorance or knowing it's a fool's errand and doing it anyway.

....hanging out with beautiful people like this...

There is no substitute for altitude training.  Yes, I know not everyone has the opportunity to do so but, if you really want to enjoy a successful climb, you have to make it so.  This will be discussed in the future.  In the meantime, here's an acclimatizing approach to help one "seal the deal" towards a successful, enjoyable multi-day Mt Whitney summit.  For a single-day climb, go here.  This example using a “Monday…Friday” metaphor covers only the last few days before the climb and is not a substitute for solid training at high altitude.

...to enjoy and celebrate awesome places like this.

 Monday:  Arrive at Whitney Portal around 1:00 pm.  That's the earliest time allowed to assume control of a campsite.  Set up camp.  Head up to the Portal Store and check the weather report.  Look at the souvenir T-Shirts to see how tall Mt Whitney is this year. Make supper and hang out.

Alternate:  If Whitney Portal has no availabilities, consider staying at Horseshoe Meadow in the Golden Trout Wilderness.  You'll camp at almost 10,000 feet.  The camping is more primitive but the whole place operates on a first-come-first-serve basis and is rarely full.  Adjust your schedule accordingly for the 31-ish mile trip to the trailhead.

Tuesday:  Head down to the Eastern Sierra Interagency Center and exchange paperwork for the actual Mt Whitney Zone Permit.  You can do this on the way into town on Monday as well because you fall within 48 hours of your Whitney Zone entry date (Wednesday in this example) with a summit on Thursday. However, multi-day-ers have until 10:00 am of your entry date to pick up the permit.  Don’t wait until the last minute.

Hit Joseph’s Bi-Rite Market or Elevation for any forgotten food or gear items. On the way back to Whitney Portal, turn left on Horseshoe Meadow Road all the way to the end at Horseshoe Meadow Camp at almost 10,000 feet (3048 m).  Start hiking up towards Cottonwood Lakes.  Hike as far as you want.  A round trip all the way to the Lakes is 11 miles at 11,500 feet (3,505 m).  We go in about 3 miles (5 km), find a nice spot to eat lunch, and spend quality time.  It's 2 days before The Big One.  You're either in shape by now or you're not.  Return to the Portal for a shower, supper, and a good night's rest.

Good snoozing conditions on the trail to Cottonwood Lakes

 Wednesday:  Park your car in the "Overnight Use" area.  If you're heading to Trail Camp at 12,000 feet (3,658 m), get on the trail by 10:00 am at the absolute latest.  A good level tent site is prime acreage so showing up at Trail Camp by 2:00 pm is a good idea.  Also, arriving early facilitates a hasty exit if anyone feels sick and needs to go back down immediately.  Anyone in that condition must be escorted back by an able-bodied person.  That's the Mountaineering Ethos. Sorry.

If your destination is Outpost Camp at 10,365 feet (3159 m), you can leave up to about 1:00 pm.  Outpost Camp is physically larger, less rocky, and less windswept so there's not the same pressure to find a good spot.  However, be aware darkness comes early to the Eastern Sierra so make sure you leave enough time for setup and supper in daylight.


Alternate:  If you have an extra day or you’re short of high altitude training, consider spending one night at Outpost Camp, then moving up to Trail Camp.

Trail Camp from the bottom of the switchbacks

Thursday:  Go out there and take a big bite of 14,508 feet (4,422 m) for yourselves.  Time your start to get off the summit by noon to miss the electrical potential.  A handy yardstick for this trip:  Assume 1.75 miles per hour (2.8 km /hr) plus an extra 30 minutes for every thousand feet (305 m) of elevation gain.

Friday:   If the weather prevents a Thursday summit, take another crack at it if your party has enough extra rations (actually you have 13 more days to try as long as you don’t leave the Zone).  The extra day may bring altitude benefits as well.  Otherwise, break camp and head back down to the Portal for a burger and a beer.  There's a spring scale hanging from the trelliswork at the trailhead.  Weigh each returning pack. The heaviest buys the beer.

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Acclimate: The Final Four Days (Single-Day Climb)

Underestimating altitude and its effects remains the most costly mistake made by inexperienced Mt Whitney hopefuls.  Diminished performance in an atmosphere 62 percent of sea level density represents only part of the problem.  Coping with neurological changes, blistering headaches, appetite loss, and nausea while your "engine" gets smaller and smaller complicates matters greatly.

Train high.  Get strong.  Climb Whitney.

There is no substitute for altitude training.  Yes, I know not everyone has the opportunity to do so but, if you really want to enjoy a successful climb, you have to make it so.  This will be discussed in the future.  In the meantime, here's an acclimation approach to help one "seal the deal" towards a successful, enjoyable Mt Whitney summit.  This covers only the last few days before the climb and is not a substitute for solid training at high altitude.

Let me preface by saying I've only climbed Mt Whitney on Thursdays.  First, Thursdays are easier to get than any other day.  Second, I show up at Whitney Portal on Monday to avoid weekend crowds and spend time at altitude before I head up. I attribute any success we've had climbing Mt Whitney (and we haven't failed yet) at least in part to this.

Monday:  Arrive at Whitney Portal around 1:00 pm.  That's the earliest time allowed to assume control of a campsite.  Set up camp.  Head up to the Portal Store and check the weather report.  Look at the souvenir T-Shirts to see how tall Mt Whitney is this year. Make supper and hang out.

Reserve your Whitney Portal site early or you'll have to switch sites in mid-stay like we did

 Alternate:  If Whitney Portal has no availabilities, consider staying at Horseshoe Meadow in the Golden Trout Wilderness.  You'll camp at almost 10,000 feet.  The camping is more primitive but the whole place operates on a first-come-first-serve basis and is rarely full.  Adjust your schedule accordingly for the 31-ish mile trip to the trailhead.

Horseshoe Meadow is a pack station too

Tuesday:  Head down to the Eastern Sierra InterAgency Center and exchange paperwork for the actual Mt Whitney Zone Permit.  Hit Joseph's Bi-Rite Market or Elevation in Lone Pine for any forgotten food or gear items. On the way back to Whitney Portal, turn left on Horseshoe Meadow Road all the way to the end at Horseshoe Meadow Camp at almost 10,000 feet (3048 m).  Start hiking up towards Cottonwood Lakes.  Hike as far as you want.  A round trip all the way to the Lakes is 11 miles at 11,500 feet (3,505 m).  We go in about 3 miles (5 km), find a nice spot to eat lunch, and spend quality time.  It's 2 days before The Big One.  You're either in shape by now or you're not.  Return to the Portal for a shower, dinner, and a good night's rest.

"A westful wetweat" - Elmer Fudd

Wednesday:  Head up to Lone Pine Lake for a slow and easy leg stretcher.  Go to the opposite shore and look back at the granite panorama.  Eat a sandwich. This is a great opportunity to get a daytime preview of the trail section traversed by headlamp at 3:00 am.  Back at camp, sort the gear and pack for the hike.  Eat dinner and set up for easy breakfast deployment tomorrow.  Bedtime is 8:00 pm.

Thursday:  Up at 2:00 am. Have a good breakfast.  Use hand signals instead of talking as much as possible.  After all, others are sleeping because Thursday may not be their day.  Don't be one of those people.  Pack your shower equipment in the car to ensure enough shower time before the facility closes after your return.  Drive up to the trailhead and park in the "Day Use" area.  Be making tracks by 3:15 am.  Have a wonderful trip!

Friday:  Eat more breakfast than you ever thought possible at the Portal Store before breaking camp, you successful Whitney climber you.

Next post:  The multi-day formula

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Illness Sucks Generally

Did some traveling with the family, only to come home and get really sick for a couple of weeks right after.  More new stuff as soon as I can post.

Single or Multi-Day Pros & Cons - Chapter 2: The Multi-Day Backpack Summit

 In my last post, I spelled out the pros and cons of the single-day summit.  While I am biased towards that method, I understand the reasons why people want to do the trip as a multi-day backpack.  However, lack of training and preparation are not valid reasons for a multi-day attempt.  If anything, a successful multi-day trip requires more preparation than the already stiff requirements for a successful single-day summit.

 

Read warning labels before use

 The Multi-Day Main Trail Backpack: 

•  Pro:  More permit latitude.  A multi-day-er has 14 days to get her done on the same permit provided we declare our intention to do so on the application and stay inside the Mt Whitney Zone.  Our permit "day" references the date we enter the John Muir Wilderness, about .9 miles from the trailhead at Whitney Portal.  That's because the permit also covers camping at Lone Pine Lake, just before the Mt whitney Zone starts. If the weather turns for the worse, we can hunker down (safely!) and wait until it blows over.  Then we try again the next day from either Outpost or Trail Camp provided you made allowances for extra days and the provisions hold out.  Don't worry.  No one will arrest you if you come out early or late.  The USFS understands the vagaries of mountain travel.  Weather or injury can alter your schedule.
• Pro:  Visit more stuff.  Since the permit can last 14 days, design a comprehensive trip to visit all the interesting topography in the basin or bag another local Fourteener like Mt Muir (approach from Trail Crest).  I've always wanted to visit the plateau north of the switchbacks.  It looks like the Moon.  
• Con:  Acclimatization  becomes even more important.  Again, it's one thing to visit high altitudes and a whole 'nother smoke to stay overnight.  Contrary to popular belief, there are no shortcuts to proper acclimatizing. Take all the Diamox you want.  The side effects are altered sense of taste, drowsiness, dizziness, nausea, vomiting, increased sunlight sensitivity...wait a minute.  Sounds a lot like altitude sickness.  At least we can cure altitude sickness by going back down.
• Con:  Contributing to "The Sewer." The longer one stays in the Whitney Zone, the more likely one needs to relieve oneself.  Since the solar toilets were removed, the amount of poo near the trail and the camps increased dramatically, especially since many people refuse to adhere to mandatory Leave No Trace ethics and pack it out.  Therefore, I refer to Lone Pine Creek as The Sewer. 

  

  The World's Loveliest Sewer

  Don't even think about drinking that water without filtration.  Don't even think about digging a hole and burying waste, either.  Wherever you dig, someone already beat you to it.  "Wag Bags" are issued at the Eastern Sierra Interagency Center with every permit. Purchase additional bags at your local backpacking retailer. Take one apart with your group.  See how it works.  You may not have time to read directions when The Urge strikes.  If packing out your waste is beyond your ability, please stay home.  Please.
• Con:  Increased exposure to objective dangers.  Violent bad weather, high wind gusts, and rockfall take their toll.  More hours up high mean greater exposure.  If I owned a $400 Supercalifragilistic Ultralight Goat Bladder Mark III tent, seeing it in tatters would make me cry.

The multi-day trip is no easier, thanks to greater pack weights and the longer altitude stays.  I believe multi-day trips are responsible for the great percentage of failed summit attempts due to this mistaken assumption.  The grand majority of Whitney climbers would be served better by preparing themselves properly for a single day trip of 16 hours or less.  Remember the question I posed at the top of the previous post on single-day trips.

Having said that, some climbers want the "expedition assault" feel of a multi-day trip with gear.  If that's your bent, consider a real multi-day adventure jumping off from Horseshoe Meadows or the High Sierra Trail all the way across Sequoia National Park.  By the time you approach Mt Whitney proper, you'll be much better acclimated than trying to blitz all the weight up and down quickly.

If you're looking to spend lots of time in the Whitney Zone knocking out every prominent knob in the area, then the Main Trail multi is unavoidable.  However, don't short-change your conditioning or acclimatizing.  Remember this old saying:  Climbers summiting Whitney from the west are the ones with smiles on their faces.  Climbers summiting from the east are the ones throwing up on their shoes.