The drive from the Los Angeles area to Big Pine, California is about four hours but it always seems to go by quickly. I've driven this route numerous times to Mammoth Mountain to snowboard in the winter and to the Sierra Nevada mountains to go hiking. To me, it never gets old. I love driving through the peaceful emptiness of the desert and through Owens Valley with the mountains to my left and passing through the small towns along the way. This is a part of California that so many people never experience and is definitely a hidden gem. After arriving in Big Pine, I continued east up the 168 freeway through the mountains, arriving at the visitor center about forty-five minutes later. After passing by the visitor center, the paved road gives way to a rugged and rocky dirt road which traverses up and down several hills through the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest and dead ends at the trailhead that leads up to White Mountain Peak. I had been in contact with my friends along the way but had lost cell phone reception shortly before arriving at the visitor center parking lot. Last I heard, they were about an hour behind. After doing some research, I realized that my Camry would likely not do well on the dirt road leading to the trailhead, since the websites all recommend using off-road, high-clearance vehicles. My plan was to wait here for my friends to arrive and travel the rest of the way in an off-road pickup truck to the trailhead with them, where we would sleep for a few hours and then being hiking. After parking my car, I got out and stretched, admiring the surroundings. The sky was filled with stars, I was the only car in the parking lot, and it was pitch black outside. It was so quiet that I felt like the sound of shutting my car door could have been heard from a mile away. I was alone in my car, engulfed in darkness, miles away from anything and everything with no cell phone reception. This is usually the part in horror movies where people get axe murdered. Who knew what was out there in those dark woods? I laughed to myself as my imagination ran wild. I figured it would be at least an hour before my friends arrived so I decided to try to get some rest in the meantime. I reclined my seat to a lying down position, turned over on my side and promptly drifted off.
I awoke in a panic to the sound of someone tapping on my passenger side window. I immediately recognized that it was my friend Jose, much to my relief. I looked at my watch and was surprised to see that it was approaching 3:00 in the morning. I had fallen asleep two and a half hours earlier, waking up several times thinking that I saw headlights driving into the parking lot, but it turned out to be a false alarm every time. When I got out of my car to get my gear from the trunk, I saw not only the pickup truck that Jose had rented, but also a twelve person van. I learned that at the last minute we had some additional people joining us and between coordinating the additional van rental, slow service at a Denny's in Palmdale, and a small mishap at a gas station, the trip up to the visitor's center had gotten delayed. After saying hello to everyone, I loaded my gear into the truck bed and we began the treacherous drive to the trailhead along the unpaved road. The ride was bumpy, but we were mostly in awe of our surroundings. It was unlike anything I had ever seen in the California wilderness. Bristlecone pine and limber pine trees lined the road in the beams of the headlights as we traversed over the hills. This area is named the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest, owing to the fact that the oldest trees in the world are located here. In an effort to prevent vandalism, the exact location of these trees has not been disclosed to the public, but they can be found at certain points along trails that pass through the forest. Once we arrived at the trailhead, I introduced myself to the people I hadn't met yet. We had a group of twelve, some of us visiting this mountain for the first time, myself included. I looked up at the starry sky as I made my final preparations. White Mountain is one of the twelve 14ers in California (mountains with an elevation of 14,000 feet or higher), with a summit of 14,252 feet. Many hikers say that it is the easiest of the California 14ers to climb, however extreme weather and altitude sickness are still a hazard. The trailhead is situated at 11,680 feet of elevation, and about fourteen miles of the fifteen mile round trip hike are above 12,000 feet. Once everyone was ready, we began our trek up the wide fire road. Unlike the other hikes that I've done in California, the route to the summit of White Mountain features no single track trail and is composed entirely of fire roads and wide paths of dirt and stone. We began at 5:00 AM and our group quickly spread out with faster hikers pulling ahead. Merwin, who I had met almost six years earlier, hosted speed hikes at Griffith Park on Thursday nights and was known for being tough and fast on the trails. When we hiked together, he would often move quickly up the trail and meet the rest of the group at the summit. He took off with Delores and Tuyet, while I stayed behind with the rest of our group, which included several of my friends with whom I've hiked before; Edith, John, Jose, and Alberto, along with Marielena, Juan, Israel, Maria, and Laura, all of whom I was meeting for the first time. I was excited that Alberto (or Beto, as we call him) was with us. He and I had become friends through work when I first moved to Los Angeles and he introduced me to the Los Angeles hiking community which allowed me to meet so many awesome people over the years. He and I had hiked together several times over the years but we lost touch for a while due to life happening. This was the first time I had seen him and Merwin in a couple of years and we were having a great time catching up. The sun began to rise as we approached the Barcroft Station about a mile and a half from the trailhead. In addition to being a popular destination for hiking, White Mountain is home to the White Mountain Research Center, which is operated by the University of California. Along the route is the Barcroft Station, and a small station at the summit. Both stations are dedicated to researching the effects that high altitude has on physiology. At the Barcroft Station we took a break to delayer and eat, so I took the opportunity to get to know some of the new people. Juan, Israel, Marielena, and Maria had gotten to know Merwin through his Thursday night workout hikes, and Laura was a friend of his. Marielena, Laura, and Israel were natives of Mexico, Juan was from El Salvador, and Maria from Colombia. We had a diverse group, and meeting new people for the first time was is something I've grown to love about going on these adventures.
After departing from the Barcroft Station, we began climbing up a series of switchbacks that led us to a wide, open bowl surrounded by mountains with the summit directly in front of us in the distance. The setting was beautiful and serene. The entire hiking route was above the tree line (a point in elevation where the environment becomes to harsh for trees to grow and survive), so the basin and mountains in front of us were completely bare of trees and had a green, mossy color to them with grey, rocky peaks. The path that we were hiking along weaved through the basin and up towards the summit, and was visible several miles in the distance. The sun was making its way into the sky and was now shining overhead, casting light on us. I had been feeling cold and tired from lack of sleep, so the sunshine was putting life back into me, much to my delight. As we continued along, we admired the grassy fields, multicolored rocks, and the occasional marmot running around. After descending further into the bowl and coming around a bend in the climb back up, we caught up with Tuyet. She had started with Merwin, but decided to move at a slower pace when she began feeling the effects of altitude sickness. John volunteered to stay with her so she could continue safely and we advised her to take her time before we pressed on. After climbing to around 13,500 feet, the terrain shifted from grassy fields to scree and rocks with small purple, red, and yellow wild flowers scattered about, adding color to the terrain. By this time, Merwin and Delores had made it to the summit, Edith was a couple of hundred feet behind me, and everyone else was taking it easy to ensure that all twelve of us could make it to the top. The small research station, which marks the summit, was now very close, but as Edith and I traversed the switchbacks, we could see below that other members of the group were struggling. The whole group had gotten barely any sleep and Jose drove the whole way, so he hadn't slept a wink. Going more than twenty-four hours without sleep is draining even under normal circumstances, but when you throw five hours of driving, and a fifteen mile hike, most of it above 12,000 feet into the mix, the results are even more taxing and it was evident that Jose was struggling. We continued up the final switchbacks, and soon the summit and research station come into view. Merwin and Delores were waiting at the summit and upon our arrival, they embraced Edith and I, congratulating us on our effort. After a quick victory hug, we remembered how badly the other group members were struggling, so Edith, Merwin, and I decided to drop our bags and run down the trail to the others and help them by carrying their packs and offering some psychological encouragement. When we approached them, Maria had given her bag to Edith to carry and Tuyet, although still battling altitude sickness, was trudging her way up the trail. I ran down to help Jose but he advised me that Beto was behind him and was so defeated, he didn't feel like he could make it. I ran a few hundred feet further down and when I found him, it was clear that he was suffering badly. He was sleep deprived and the altitude was throwing his body into a tailspin. He was barely moving forward even with the help of his trekking poles, and it looked like he was about to stumble over with every step he took. Seeing him in this weakened state crushed me. He was the guy who had introduced me to this whole hiking world and was one of the strongest hikers I knew. He had summited several challenging peaks over the years and attended Merwin's notoriously tough workout hikes regularly. He had been here before. Not here, per se, but he had suffered before when attempting challenging hikes and had pulled through. I knew he could make it to the summit and I was determined to help get him there and not let him give up. When I approached him, I grabbed his backpack from him, threw it on my back, and walked behind him up the trail, assuring him that we would make it and we would just go nice and easy. I trailed directly behind him as he made his way, step by wobbly step up the trail. Up ahead, Edith was carrying Maria's pack and helping Jose up the trail. "I know you can do this man, you're are a tough SOB" I said as I patted Beto on the back. "We're going to go about 200 more feet, then it's one more switchback to the summit" I said to him. During the final steps he began moving faster. The adrenaline had kicked in, and seconds later, the five of us, Beto, Jose, Merwin, Edith, and I arrived at the summit together. All twelve of us summited, and we celebrated and embraced each other, congratulating one another on our accomplishment. In my mind, the one who makes it to the summit last and suffers the most is the toughest. For so many of us, it doesn't require tremendous effort to climb mountains, but for those who are suffering and on the brink of quitting, it's amazing to see them push through the physical obstacles and the mental walls and continue the fight, refusing to give up. These are qualities that separate the merely tough from the unbreakable. In my eyes, Beto, Jose, and Maria were the toughest ones out there that day.
On the way down the sleep depravity and high altitude were beginning to have an effect on me as well. We were about halfway down, John, Jose, and Tuyet about a tenth of a mile behind me, Maria and Edith about a tenth of a mile in front of me. Our group had again become spread out along the trail. During the ascent that morning we had descended into the bowl a couple of times, but on the way back the climbs back up were brutal. I hadn't taken into account that we were going to be climbing back up these descents on the way back. As I moved forward, I felt pressure on my head and my eye lids were getting heavy and dense. Keeping my eyes open became a challenge. Going up the inclines, my breathing became labored and the pressure on my head grew more intense. I admired the scenery and I plodded along, and when I finally came over the top of the hill, the Barcroft Station came into view below. When I arrived, Maria was sitting on a log near the station. "Maria, como estas?" I called out. "Muy consado" she answered with a weak smile. "Yo tambien. Pero es muy bonita a fuera" (Me too. But it's very pretty out here) I replied. We sat for a few minutes to rest, and after chugging some water and wolfing down a little food, I felt slightly more coherent. A few minutes later, Jose, John, and Tuyet came over the hill and began making their way down towards us. Maria pressed on, and once the three of them arrived, we continued down the last mile and a half all together. Chatting with Jose, John, and Tuyet for the last section helped put some life back into me, and when the cars in the parking lot finally came into view below, my headache wasn't completely gone but I felt much more alive. Down in the parking lot we rendezvoused with the rest of our group and packed our gear up. We planned to go have a celebration meal together, but it turned out Tuyet was under a time constraint and had to attend a family event early the next morning in San Diego. Since the rest of the group had traveled in two vehicles, I agreed to give her a ride to the Rosamond area, where her and her husband lived.
The ride down the dirt road back to the visitor center felt more rugged than it did that morning for some odd reason. We could see the trees and views more clearly in the daylight and admired the scenery. We were so sleep deprived we began seeing things along the road. Tuyet thought she had seen a dead horse along the roadside, but it was really just a log. Edith thought she had seen a goat on the hill but it was just pile a rocks. The bristlecone pine trees along the way were leafless trees with twisting branches and we commented to each other on what they resembled from our point of view. Jose thought that one of them looked like a dragon and another looked like a wolf howling at the sky. All of these comments were followed by bursts of laughter. We had been awake for way too long. Tuyet and I told stories and shared laughs along the way during the drive home, which served me well since I was dead tired. After dropping her off, I arrived home a little over an hour later. Between the altitude, the sixteen mile off-road rally to the trailhead, and the scenery, this trek had been unique in many ways. I loved the experience, but the part I enjoyed the most was getting my friends to the summit when they were struggling. I live for the moments that I see people in such a state of despair but they refuse to give up. If we challenge ourselves like we should, all of us will be in that position
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