Everything I Wish I Knew Before Hiking Mt. Whitney

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I love setting superlative goals: run faster than I’ve ever run before, travel the farthest I’ve ever been from home, scale the tallest mountain in the Lower 48. There’s something rewarding about doing something you’ve never done before, and coming out stronger, more experienced, wiser. When you’re in that unknown territory, however, you’re bound to learn some hard lessons. I did a decent job preparing for my own hike on Mt. Whitney, but there were still a handful of things I’d do differently.

Mt. Whitney gets the attention of all types of hikers, from the ambitious novice to the avid peakbagger. Because this trail doesn’t require any technical training or gear, the largest barrier to entry is the permit (and perhaps the altitude). That being said, about 2 in 10 Mt. Whitney hikers reportedly face issues like altitude sickness or exhaustion and turn around before making it to the summit.

During peak season, there’s always a wide range of experience on the trail at a given time. Last year, two hikers who tried to summit with 150 pounds of gear plus five gallons of water, though they didn’t make it too far. Back then, Ryan Huetter, a mountain guide in the area, told me that he had seen Mt. Whitney hikers duct tape a case of beer to the outside of their packs. On my own trip last September, where I had to help a severely exhausted man down the mountain when his hiking partner abandoned him.

Sure, those are the extremes. But even within a “normal” hike, it’s easy to find lots of things you’d change if you were to hike it again. Here are mine.

Build in way more time than you think you’ll need

Generally, Mt. Whitney hikers will plan for an alpine start — sometimes as early as before midnight. In general, when hiking on mountains this high, you’ll want to watch cloud cover and be off the summit before potential afternoon storms.

When I planned my own dayhike up Mt. Whitney, I calculated my starting time based on how fast I’d expect to hike when taking the usual snack breaks into consideration. We started a little before 4 a.m. because we trained enough to move quickly, even at altitude. However, we were among the last to make it to the summit that day.

On my training hikes, I was mostly on the move, stopping for pictures only of the summit. That’s because I didn’t find my neighborhood trails, the ones I’ve logged a lifetime of miles on, to be that remarkable. This mountain, however, is different. During the hike, my partner and I were moving at a moderate clip, but the amount of time we stopped to take a picture or enjoy the view meant we didn’t summit until 2 p.m.

I found it hard to power through the different stages of the hike without stopping. Every time I made a turn, the view was even better than the last, and I had been waiting my entire life to see it. Somewhere in there, the entire day slipped away from us. We were lucky that there were no storms rolling in that afternoon.

Bring less water

Obviously this piece of advice comes with a couple of caveats. Being from the desert, where water sources start off dry and get drier throughout the year, I wasn’t sure how reliable the lakes and streams would be in September. In hindsight, by not just calling the ranger station for a status update, I wasted my time and energy. I packed for a dry hike and brought all the water I’d need for the day. But on the way up, the seemingly endless, rushing streams mocked each weighted, waterlogged step I took.

Here come the caveats: To get the most accurate read on current water source conditions, call a ranger station before your hike. These are the experts, the people who are out there daily and can provide reliable information in real time. Also, there’s plenty of water on the trail, but only until you reach Trail Camp and the 97 switchbacks. From there, there are no more water sources to the summit. Trail Camp is a good place to fill up on water before making that final push.

Prepare for the mental suck that is Trail Crest

Speaking of those famous switchbacks: Everyone who refers to that section as the most daunting part of the trail must have Trail Crest amnesia. I think a part of me died a little bit on that scree-lined stretch to the summit.

At an elevation of 13,645 feet, Trail Crest is the highest mountain pass in the U.S. Here, you hike in the shadows behind Mt. Muir and Mt. Whitney, and on the other side of you, the mountain drops off dramatically, offering views of Guitar Lake and Sequoia National Park in the distance. Sure, it’s gorgeous. But it certainly is a grind. There’s another 2.8 miles from Trail Crest to the summit. In that distance, the trail flattens out for a couple minutes, which at the time seemed like a respite after miles and miles of vert. In the end, though, it only meant that the remaining miles were steeper, more unrelenting.

From this section, you can clearly see the hut at the top of Mt. Whitney, essentially the finish line. But, as I hiked toward it, it felt like it was getting farther and farther away. The switchbacks leading up to the summit were so long that it felt like I was spending hours on each one. I found this section much harder than any other part of the trail, mentally and physically,

Bring extra batteries

Sometimes the most valuable gear is the most basic. Most people the hike hours before the sun rises, and many end the hike hours after the sun sets. I forgot to pack spare batteries, and I was squinting through single lumens by the end of the hike. Even though the trail is extremely well-marked, in complete darkness, there were some parts where it was hard to distinguish between the edge of a cliff and the shadow from a tree. Our desire to stay on the trail and not plummet off the side of the mountain slowed us down a bit after sunset. To make things more difficult: My hike was during a new moon, so it was as dark as it gets. Make sure your torch is firing off as bright as possible by stashing a couple spare batteries or a power pack to top up your rechargeable.

Backpack it

When I applied for a permit, I tried for both the dayhiking and backpacking options, willing to do whatever the Recreation.gov gods deemed appropriate. I dayhiked it, but next time, I’d only consider backpacking. It seemed like all the backpackers were having more fun than the dayhikers. Maybe that’s because they were able to spend more time on the trail than us, maybe because they were able to sleep in, or because they only needed to carry a featherlight daypack to tag the summit and could leave their gear at the campsite.

All the dayhikers and I were on a time-crunch mission to hit extreme checkpoints throughout the day. I think I’d enjoy the experience a lot more if I was able to take it all in without any time restraints. Mt. Whitney is a hike people dream of doing for their entire lives. Many travel quite far: We met people from Japan, several countries in Europe, and all around the country on our hike. How lucky we were to get a coveted permit and hike this trail. Why rush it?

There were some things I did get right before and after my dayhike:

• Get to altitude a couple days early and do a couple acclimation hikes. Going from sea level to 14,500 feet is a lot harder than going from sea level to 10,000 feet to 14,500 feet.
• Train on steep trails, long trails, high-altitude trails, whatever I could in the months leading up to the hike. On these hikes, I tested out snacks and gear, so I knew what would work on the big day. (Strength training helped a lot, too.)
•  I aimed for a weekday permit. Your chances of scoring a permit are higher if you select non-weekend, non-holiday dates. Our hike was on a Tuesday, and during the permit application process, I selected Tuesdays and Wednesdays in September and October because those are less popular days and months.