How To Fall Off A Mountain

Rich Benbrook

Using the Maps

Mount Whitney

Monarch Lake

Vidette Meadow

Cottonwood Lakes

Onion Valley to
Whitney Portal

Symmes Creek to
Mineral King

Mount Tyndall

Whitney Group

Mount Shasta

Mount Williamson

Palisades

Middle Palisade
Revisited

Thunder Mountain

Middle Palisade
Try Again

Middle Palisade
Take Three

Mount Sill

Thunderbolt Peak
Climbing Up

Thunderbolt Peak
Climbing Down

Thunderbolt Peak
Rescue

Aerial Photos

National Park Service Search and Rescue

Links

Whitney Group

maps:

There are 15 peaks in California which exceed 14,000 feet in height, and I wanted to climb every one of them. Kelly, a friend and coworker, became interested in this project, and we decided to climb all these high peaks in one twelve-month period.

We began with an epic 15-day trip in August of 1993. Entering once again at Shepard Pass, Kelly, Kristi and I planned to climb five peaks in the Mount Whitney region. We crossed over into the Wright Lakes basin, set up our first base camp, and prepared to climb Mount Tyndall.

During the night, I awoke with a vague sense of unease. I listened carefully, and realized I was hearing the unmistakable sound of a very large animal walking around our campsite; a sound which could only be made by a bear. We were camped above the altitude where trees grow well, so we weren't able to hang our food properly. Instead, we used a small shrub to keep the food just out of reach of small rodents, and hoped for the best. Still half-asleep, I next heard the 'thump' of our food bags hitting the ground. Running from the tent with flashlight in hand, I tried to chase the bear away from our food cache. At first, the bruin was not motivated to leave. After scoring a few direct hits with rocks, we convinced the thief to abandon his prize. We could tell the victory would be short-lived, however, so we searched for a more suitable food storage solution.

On a small hill above camp stood one lonely, dead snag of a tree. Although entirely inadequate to keep our food safe, this option was our only choice. We trekked up the rise, and struggled to suspend our remaining bags of food from the highest limb. We did our best, and returned to the tent in a futile attempt at completing a night's sleep. Every time I would start to drift off to sleep, I would be awakened by the bear returning to camp. Only a few feet from our tent, the animal sniffed around the campsite looking for where we had stashed his dinner. I chased him off with more rocks thrown from a collection strategically placed at our tent door. Never was I able to chase him far, though, and he always returned.

We repeated this process several times. Try to sleep. Wake up with bear in camp. Throw rocks at bear. Try again to sleep. Eventually, the bear must have taken a break, as I actually went to sleep. That didn't last long, though. This time, it was the silence that was disturbing. Why had the bear not returned? Suspicious, I left the tent and went back up the hill. There, in the dead tree, disturbingly close to our hanging food, was our friendly bear. As he reached out toward the limb and our vulnerable food bags, it was obvious that sooner or later he would successfully satisfy his enormous appetite at our expense. More rocks were thrown, and eventually we once again convinced the bear to abandon our food. Needless to say, little sleep was had by anyone that night.

The next morning was a rest day, allowing us to recuperate from the hike over Shepard Pass and to acclimatize to the altitude prior to climbing Mount Tyndall. We inventoried our remaining food supplies, and determined that with rationing we still had enough to complete our trip as planned. We moved our camp nearer to the dead tree to better protect our food, and prepared for another long night.

As expected, the bear returned. This time, however, we both got quite a surprise. When I awoke, I was already standing just outside the tent, arms length from the bear, swinging my hiking stick at his shoulders. I don't know who was more startled and disturbed by these developments, me or the bear. In either case, he took off running and I decided to go with it and give chase. Off we went across the meadow, the bear running in front, with me close behind yelling, waving my hiking stick and throwing rocks. When we hit the creek, he was in such a panic that he stumbled face first across the rocks and into the water. Climbing out on the opposite bank was the last time we saw that bear.

The rest of the night was blissfully uneventful, and we all got a little much needed sleep. We successfully climbed Mount Tyndall (14,018'; 1 of 15) the next day.

Our next goal was Mount Russell. We moved camp a few miles south to Wallace Lake and enjoyed another rest day.

Mount Russell is one of the most beautiful and spectacular peaks I've climbed. The summit is approached via a knife edge ridge with a thousand foot vertical drop of either side. We passed another climbing party on its way off the summit. As we exchanged pleasantries they asked us which guide book we had used for this climb. Upon hearing we use a popular book written by R. J. Secor, they laughed and offered that his was the worst book ever written on mountain climbing, full of wrong directions and dangerous errors. Then they introduced us to a member of their group, R. J. Secor himself. They wished us luck, and we continued on our way. The climb was challenging, but no unexpected or extremely difficult obstacles were encountered and we summited Mount Russell (14,086'; 2 of 15) without incident.

A snowstorm moved in as we broke camp. Just a reminder that at this altitude, winter is never far away. We hiked along part of the John Muir Trail, retracing a portion of last year's Onion Valley to Whitney Portal trip.

Once reaching Crabtree Meadow, instead of heading directly toward Mount Whitney, our eventual goal, we continued to the next drainage south and set up camp alongside one of the Crabtree lakes. We were back down at a lower altitude, so campfires could once again be enjoyed. As we had done throughout this trip, we spent two nights in this camp to give us another rest day.

This would be my third trip to the summit of Whitney, and this time we planned on approaching from a lesser used route. We remained off trail until trail crest at 13,500 feet. From there, we joined the mass of hikers on the popular trail from Whitney Portal. After our previous climbs, the summit of Mount Whitney (14,494'; 3 of 15) was anti-climatic. However, I did enjoy the opportunity to observe dozens of other hikers who, like me a few years before, had rushed up to the top and now were suffering the consequences. On our way down, we left the trail for a few hundred yards to climb Mount Muir (14,015'; 4 of 15).

We moved camp once again, traveling entirely off-trail to Sky Blue Lake. Often, the quality of a camp site can be measured by the convenience of its kitchen. Ideally, there will be a large flat rock about countertop height onto which the stove can be placed. This allows cooking from a more natural standing position, rather than bending over to cook on the ground. A large cliff rising behind the kitchen should be oriented in such a manner as to block the prevailing evening breezes. Ample comfortable spaces should be available for sitting, and another large boulder should be available from which to hang the water bag for washing. Sky Blue Lake offered all this and a spectacular view as well, and has easily the best kitchen I have found before or since.

It seems most people camp within a few hundred yards of major trails. By traveling mostly off-trail, choosing campsites far from the popular areas, we have avoided other people for most of the trip. I don't think we have camped within a mile of any other party during the past two weeks, yet we have enjoyed the very best campsites in the entire mountain range.

From there, we climbed Mount Langley (14,027'; 5 of 15), the final peak of this trip. This too was accomplished with relative ease, and once again an epic adventure had drawn to a close.