“Hey Brandon, some of us are going to go hike Mount Whitney in the summer. We have an extra permit and we were wondering if you’d like to go? “
“Sure. You need a permit?”, I asked.
“Yes. You need a permit because it’s the tallest mountain in the continental United States. It’s a 14er.”
“Whats a 14er?”
This conversation took place in the spring of 2009. I had never heard (or remembered) the word 14er. Sure, I had gone hiking, but most of my experience had been hiking trails on the East Coast of the United States, walking paths, and I was just beginning to get into scrambling (otherwise known as bouldering) at Red Rock Canyon, just outside of Las Vegas.
I had no idea what a 14er was and that was about to change.
In early 2009 I moved from the East Coast to Las Vegas, Nevada. I chose it for a multitude of reasons, including the beautiful natural options. A few hours drive to Zion, 4.5 hours to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, and right in the background of Las Vegas is Red Rock Canyon. My first hike out Red Rock Canyon was the first time I visited Las Vegas in 2001. A friend of mine and I hiked Pine Creek Canyon. When the trail ended, I wanted to continue on following the water through beautiful and colorful rocks of sandstone. We didn’t get super far that day, but I knew hiking there felt like an oasis in the desert and it truly is a special place.
When I was a teenager, I was introduced to the idea of hiking. That introduction came through the Boy Scouts of America (Now called Scouting America). Back then and included enormous boots, a backpack with a metal frame that hit my back and always gave me bruises, and carrying a lot more weight than what I even felt I weighed. Most of the hikes were trudging through heat and humidity in the summer, snow in the winter, or the brief spring or fall seasons that fell upon Pennsylvania. Most of our food had a ridiculous amount of sulfur in it as a preservative, which constantly made me fart, and that brought even more anxiety than I already had as a child. The pace was usually lead by either an adult male who is really fast, or a group leader. It was always a grind to get to the next campsite. Through the challenges and ordeals, I learned quickly I loved hiking.
I didn’t enjoy everything about those experiences, like carrying what felt like everything under the sun as the motto of “be prepared” was a badge of honor and how dare we forget something. Yet the journey itself, the hiking aspect and going uphill to reach ridges or clearings where you could get just a glimpse of a view was exciting to me.
So after hearing the offer of a hiking permit, I wondered what the view at the top of Mount Whitney would look like.
As I began my research on hiking Mount Whitney, I read more and more about the challenges and pitfalls that most people experience. Like for example, the 99 switchbacks that you have to go up, or the long trudge at the ridgecrest, which is several miles to reach the summit once you get past 13,000 feet. Or, the entire 22 mile trip and figuring out how much water, supplies, gear, and whatever the hell you need to survive doing such a feat. The more I read, the more I was driven to hike. I looked at it as a challenge. Something to aspire to. I mean, who really does these things?
So this is how it all started, with a simple question from other hikers asking me if I wanted to tag along. I’m sure grateful they did.
The several months journey in research, training, and the hike itself to the summit, transfixed me. When I finally reached the summit and looked all around me…I realized how far I could see on a clear day. It wasn’t just all the other mountains to see, but the emotions that raced through my body as I was at the summit. The feeling of satisfaction for training and accomplishing such a feat. Humility for how challenging the hike was. Gratitude to have the health, body, and mind to experience such a grand adventure. Tears of joy because for fucks sake…I just did this awesome thing! And sadness, because at the highest peak around, I felt closer to reaching my brother than any other time since his passing in 2005.
As I hiked down, my mind was racing with lots of thoughts about the accomplishment….and what’s next. After all, you’ve accomplished your goal. It’s easy to begin to think what else is out there. I started to think of other mountainous states. It got me thinking of the Rocky Mountains. Then I thought, I wonder if there are 14er’s in Colorado?
And so an incredible journey had started. Climbing Whitney on that August day in 2009 was life changing and altering. What has ensued over the next 15 years is one of the defining aspects of my life. Perhaps hiking will be yours too.
