Friday, August 31, 2007

my personal whitney...



on wednesday, august 29, 2007 i climbed mount whitney. the climb to 14,497 feet above sea level was a real test for me...one i almost failed.

many of you may not have heard of mount whitney. i hadn't until last saturday at amy's cousin's place when jan peterson invited me to hike with him. i offered to check my schedule and get back to him. jumping on a computer in their office, i found wikipedia's offering on the mountain. the highest peak in the contiguous 48 states and a 22 mile round trip. i live at 1100 feet above sea level and unfortunately don't exercise much when i come home from the hospital...but how hard could it be? i accepted his offer and bought too much money's worth of gear to get me there...

the hike began at 5 am in the dark with headlamps. accounts i read on the internet gave estimates of 14-18 hours for the endeavor. water is an issue and requires carrying lots or filtering. i did both and my calves feel like falling off right now because of my 20+ lbs pack that i lugged up and back.

anyway, the first views we had as the sun came up were spectacular. the sheer rock walls are beautiful in a stark, barren way. this shot below is of thor peak that sits above mirror lake.



the first six miles of the hike were very relaxed and a lot of fun. i enjoyed getting to know amy's cousin and his friends as we walked. the miles seemed to glide by in the beauty of the surroundings...



however, my personal struggles started in around 5 1/2 miles. i read a review article in the new england journal of medicine about acute mountain sickness (ams) just prior to the trip. we decided to take aspirin every 4 hours up to three pills total as prophylaxis for headache. apparently, headache is the common first symptom of ams and is a harbinger of swellling and increased fluid in the brain. this knowledge did not sit well as a slight headache started in about 12,000 feet as we came upon the trail camp pictured below.



despite a slight headache, i felt great and didn't think much of what was to come. i was over halfway to the top in miles and 2/3's the way there in altitude gained. if you look behind me in the picture above you will see the 2nd to last peak to the far right...that is the mount whitney. getting there still required 2 miles of switch backs to the far left of the picture. the switchbacks end at 13,600 feet. from there, the hike takes you 3 miles past each of the peaks shown behind me and undulates between 13,500 and the requisite 14,497 to the peak. climbing at that altitude for that long without acclimatization proved to be far harder than i would have dreamed.

our group started with six members. at one point during the hike we lost track of three of our group. we thought they were behind us and we waited for them several times, but they didn't show--we figured they must be ahead of us. so it was that three of us started up the grueling switchbacks together. as we ascended, i soon found that i was not in the mood to charge the switchbacks at the rate my partners desired. they went on ahead and two hours later (11:30 am) i finally reached 13,600 feet. at this point i had a definite headache and was starting to feel nauseated with exertion. these two symptoms are clinically diagnosable ams and should probably have been grounds for stopping. however, the views at this altitude were breathtaking and i was feeling good about my accomplishment to that point.

the lake below shows the starting point for the switchbacks--2 miles and 1600 vertical feet away.



at the 13,600 foot trail crest, a completely new vista of peaks and terrain opened up and it's dizzying glory is seen here...



the remaining three miles turned out to be a test greater than i have experienced in a long time. there is a portion of my experience that i will not recount to you for the sake of sanity, but mount whitney requires carrying out any waste produced during the hike. i will only say that for 13 miles of the hike i experienced intestinal cramps that were often unignorable--requiring two separate stops at very exposed and inconvenient times...enough said? i'll tell you about it later if you're that interested...

here is a depiction of the desolate nature of the last 3 miles of trail.



after hiking one of the three miles left, i found i could only go 10-30 feet at a time without stopping for overwhelming headache and nausea. it was then that i found a fellow hiker, al, whom i had met earlier in the day. he was struggling with similar symptoms and we stopped to contemplate our next move. part of me felt a longing to go on, another part of me felt the irresponsible nature of allowing my brain to swell and endanger my livelihood:) (amy says all this talk of my brain and my livelihood is a bit dramatic, but my perceptions must have been more dramatic at altitude because the feelings i describe were very real.) i would have turned around soon thereafter had it not been for al. we decided we would take turns leading the other for 10-20 steps and we would stop to rest. at the end of each 10-20 foot segment the nausea would crescendo, however, with rest the nausea receded. this fact allowed me to feel a sense of responsible climbing (ie. i wasn't putting my brain in jeopardy if the nausea went away and i might still achieve my goal despite how difficult this task was shaping up to be). i left my pack along the way with one mile to go in desperation. 2 hours and 45 minutes after reaching the top of the switch backs we summited. i was more emotional than i would have thought at making it to the top. i hugged al and wrote amy and the kids' names in the register (since their faces flashed before my eyes each time my symptoms worsened:)

al and me.



the register with amy, michael, abby and bekah's name recorded for posterity.



this last picture depicts jan and me at the summit just before our descent. jan (amy's cousin) was quietly patient and a great strength on the way down. my headache began at 9:30 am, i summitted at 2:00 pm. the first three miles of the descent were not a descent but undulations at altitude. every time the trail would rise my headache and nausea would return and i would despair slightly. what had i done? i was not out of the woods and i could only walk so fast without getting sick. my emotions slid in and out of confidence and panic. yet, with jan's good nature and patience we slowly made the 3+ hour trek to the trail camp at 12,000 feet. at 12,000 feet i felt a great sense of relief and my nausea was mostly resolved. we left the trail camp at 6:15 pm and with each foot we descended i felt better and better. we walked/ran the last 6 miles in 2 hours (partly in the dark with headlamps).



if you made it this far you've heard more than you wanted about my hike, and i've probably revealed more about myself than i should have on the internet. with the struggles i experienced, this hike became a significant experience in my life that i will not soon forget...

17 comments:

Dad (TMF) said...

Paul: Isn't it interesting how the important things in life shape up with mortality in the balance.

libby said...

Wow... One part of me thinks you are out of your mind. The other (and the much larger part) has incredible respect for your perserverance. Way to go brother!

Joe and Amy said...

Joseph said:)

Wow! A wonderful read and a wonderful adventure! Excellent job!! Your pictures and descriptive narrative made me feel like I was there along side you. Life trully finds meaning in doing hard things. I love epic adventures and that climb (remaining at high altitude for so many miles along the final ridge) is as epic as they come. Way to persevere; way to endure; way to go you triumphant man! Uhuru!!! (swahili word meaning "Freedom")

P.S. - I looked up big bear, and next year when I get a break and we come south, we should ride up there together; or possibly a century... :) We are going to Tahoe with the kids for Labor day and we are going to buy Amy a road bike this week :)

patty said...

Paul Frandsen, next time you decide to do one of the big adventures....maybe you should prepare a little more. I am glad you made it down safely. You have never been one to give up when you have decided to do something.

Jenni Coberly said...

Good for you!! I think at about mile six I would have set up camp and waited for the others to return! The pictures were great. I have to say that the picture of you and Jan on the edge of the rock made me a little scared for you.....taking into account your state at that point in the adventure. I'm glad you are back to your family safe and sound.

paul said...

thanks for all your thoughts everyone.

jenni: it's funny that you mention my state of mind. while we were hiking down, jan turned to me and said he was worried about me for the first 10 minutes after i summited as i was talking really loud...i quieted down not long after.

joe: what was the acclimatization like on kilimanjaro? did you use any meds to get to the top?

libby: thanks for your confidence.

dad: mortality was certainly an issue in the back of my mind.

mom: you are exactly right. i should have prepared more and felt silly for not having done so. howe ver, i never expected to encounter that strangeness at altitude that i did. i just figured my body would fly right through it. i would certainly approach it differently if i were to try again.

all: sorry i didn't comment earlier, the recent comments on the sidebar must have taken some time off yesterday since i checked from the first page to see if anyone had commented.

paul said...

joe: i would love to do a century together sometime. i wonder what city we could find in the middle of the state that has a good ride that we could both make it to...

Nick said...

Great story. Great Accomplishment. Nice job!

Amy F said...

I am so proud of my mountaineer. In my 7 years of marriage to Paul, there hasn't been much that I have seen him struggle with. But this was a real challenge to him... I am glad it turned out well (with his mind and body in tact at his return home to the wife and 3 kids!).

In our lunchtime prayer (in the timing of things... 2 hours before Paul summited), Michael remembered his daddy... to "bless daddy to be safe on his hike, that he won't do any throw-ups." Sounds like it worked. He loved the t-shirt Paul brought back for him, and wears it proudly... whenever he can.

Stephen said...

pablo: nice, my brother. so very proud of you. i, of course, want to hear more about the exposed defecations.

Stephen said...

go check out this. not to take you off topic, paul. but i thought you may be interested. its my friend andrew's blog. he's leaving to iraq in a couple of weeks.

paul said...

i fear what these seven soliers say is true. it is only seven soldiers and not a representative sampling of soldiers, so must be taken with a grain of salt. nevertheless, i wouldn't be suprised if every word they say is true and that our work there is futile...

Jill T said...

good job paul! I'm glad you succeeded and made it to the top. Not many people can say that.

My question is, who built that little house on the summit and how did they get all of the materials up there, if people can barely get up there themselves?

mom/shauna said...

Paul: Thanks for sharing a very inspiring account of your climb to Mt. Whitney. Those times of challenge usually do cause us to be more introspective and help us prioritize the truly important things of life. Gratitude is also one of the by-products of experiences such as these. Aren't you glad to be on level land again? You express yourself so well. Thanks!

paul said...

thank you jill and shauna.

that house is a bit rickety on the top. can you imagine being in a roaring lightening storm (often happens in the afternoons) with all those lightening rods on the top?

they probably used helicopters. they used to have solar latrines on the trail and they would haul the excrement out that way. they could have used the helicopter to get supplies up. also, the ranger up there are like mountain goats. the altitude was like nothing for them as they clip clopped up and down the trail with little effort.

Matt said...

Sweet

Christene said...

Jan said:

I couldn't have told the story better myself. What Paul didn't mention is that he had a few choice words for me at the top for ditching him :) I thought he was fine when we split. sorry Paul. So I had to make it up to him on the trip back down. I'm glad I did. It's always nice to get to know family!

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