I have decided to write a blog about backpacking. I will recall experiences and reflect on them in my blog posts.
The first story is the 2010 Mount Whitney climb and snow-blindness fiasco. I was car-less and feeling adventurous, so I took a bus to Bakersfield and hitchhiked my way up to the Whitney Portal. I bummed three rides in the process, even with my ice axe clearly visible strapped to my pack. What kind of psycho would pick up a psycho hitchhiking with an ice axe? It's common in that area (eastern Sierras, Highway 395) for hikers to bum rides. All the people that picked me up understood the tradition and culture, except some Frenchman that was on vacation. I happened upon him taking scenic pictures along the road and struck up a conversation. He didn't think I was crazy, and offered me a ride as far east as Ridgecrest, which I accepted.
Eventually I made it to Whitney Portal. It only took two days. I didn't have a permit, so I hiked up into the mountains to avoid questions and payments required at the Portal. I froze that night. Then I was amazed by people hiking up to Mount Whitney early in the morning - early, like 3 a.m. early - in rows, slowly, clinking and clattering and echoing. I defrosted and followed suit. It was a harsh, lovely experience being wet, tired, hungry, and at the mercy of foul weather. I made it to the summit of Mount Whitney later that day, and spent the night on top solo!
It was then that I discovered I became snowblinded. My eyes were a mess, and burned horribly. I didn't bring sunglasses, and my eyes baked at that high altitude doubly so by the reflected snow. I tried to sleep but I couldn't, I just rolled around between rocks all night trying to keep warm. The cold was killer, the wind was whipping, and clouds engulfed the mountaintop. The air was so thin, I kept gasping in my despair and almost paniced (almost).
Needless to say I made it back down the next day, thanks to some girl that gave me her sunglasses as I passed her party early in the morning. I still remember her face vividly when she saw my eyes and I told her where I'd been all night. Fun times, experience of a lifetime.
Nice Illya, I look forward to reading this blog. The harsh realities of an untamed environment and the solipsistic love of the world told through the eyes of a lonely climber risking his sight to see a part of the planet unknown to most. It reminds me of Kerouac chasing the dharma in the solitude of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.
ReplyDeleteI remember reading about your hiking experience in creative non-fiction so I know this is going to be good! It's truly exciting stuff! Will you be doing more hiking during the semester or only telling of past experiences? Either or is great but it might be neat to get some fresh material for this blog. Very interesting stuff!
ReplyDeleteYeah this blog was a smaller version of that nonfiction essay, and I included the camera story not in the essay. Yes, I'll probably get some pre-summer hikes in, and I'll write about them. Thanks a lot, you have a great blog too ;)
DeleteWow, I’m so impressed by your daring! This was definitely “an experience of a lifetime.” I liked your description of the rows of people hiking up the mountain—I could hear what that sounded like.
ReplyDeleteWow! I can't believe you went through all of that! I would have have up in that cold weather. Your story is so interesting. I feel like I'm reading a creative writing novel. I look forward to seeing all the different areas you experience and I hope you get some better weather next time.
ReplyDeleteI definitely enjoying every little bit of it. It is a great website and nice share. I want to thank you. Good job! You guys do a great blog, and have some great contents. Keep up the good work. axe throwing
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