The sun shone through the windshield of Dope's Honda CRX. But
it didn't wake us up. We slept nary a wink the
whole night inside his car--it was too cold, too cramped and
too uncomfortable yet the day's beginning filled us with glee
seeing how beautiful the weather was. A perfect day to bag a
peak. Little did we know it'll turn into glum at
the end of the day.
This overnighter was planned by Dope Doplito weeks in advance
and coincided with Ric and Jing's wedding in SanFo (thus my
ramblings about the dilemma of choosing which to
attend.) I easily chose the hike up mountain trails
over the walk down the church isle. A foursome
reduced to a twosome after Let Querubin and inductee
Noel backed out at the last minute.
At 12,944 feet, and a close neighbor of Mt. Whitney, this was
a welcome return to the heavens which we conquered last
year. Although lower by 2,000 ft than Mt. Whitney, Lone
Pine Peak was anything but a hike. It was an alpine
climb. We set foot 8:45 from Whitney Portal Rd.walking a mile
to the trailhead of Meysan Lakes. Past
the switchbacks, in pine cone littered trails and huge trees,
we crossed a noisy ice-cold creek bordered by snow covered
rocks into trailless territory--an easy Class III
route. A necessary piece of equipment-- our trekking poles
proved its usefulness beyond its worth in
the backcountry. With it we balanced, took some
stress off our legs, and on the steeper slopes, as a handy
anchor where an ice axe would have been useless in soft,
unpacked snow.
SNOWFIELDS GALORE.
We slid, we crossed it, we went through it. Half my body
got buried several times! Dope left his snowshoes
in the car thinking it would be an unfair advantage over
me. So naturally, his legs too, disappeared in the
deep snow. My pole baskets got lost twice,
and twice I had to recover them two feet under the snow while
standing with half my legs in the snow, and my right arm
anchored with another pole in near vertical
walls. To anchor ourselves, we grabbed the poles
horizontally in the center and punch through the snow--a
useful maneuver both going up and going down the steep inclines.
Around noon, I was starting to crave for a mushroom pizza so
I checked my phone for a signal and maybe call for pizza
delivery. I figured they would take hours to
deliver so instead called up Merci Javier who's by then at the
wedding reception with Ver Penaranda and Jimmy Saclayan, awaiting
to be seated and unable to describe the comestibles
served. I asked her to call me in five hours.
We approximated we would be at the peak by then.
BACKPACKS IN FREEFALL.
On one rocky ledge where Dope sat resting and checking out
the terrain on his topo, he turned and accidentally tipped his
borrowed Mountainsmith. Down came falling his
backpack with its top pocket contents flinging through the
air. Sh#t!!!! Sh#t na malamig!!! Since his poles
were strapped to the pack, I lent him mine and continued
without it and ahead of him while he made the
grudgingly difficult descent to recover his pack from way, way
down. We agreed to meet on the flatter grounds of
the higher ridges. He caught up with me in no time,
maybe because of my frequent rests or his superior climbing
ability.
COLD AS ICE, HARD AS ROCK
Granite peaks, huge slabs, giant boulders resting on ledges,
talus and scree that invite rockslides and snow just about
everyplace in between. Many times we encountered
rocks mistaken as stable holds only to be surprised to see it
break or crumble under our weight.
Whoah! whew! That was a close
one. Suddenly we saw ourselves in imminent
danger--near vertical rock walls and snow covered inclines.
Dope led the way and roped me for good measure on the
scary portions. I shut out my mind on the fact that
below my foothold is a sheer drop of 2000 ft. Just
after a challenging stretch of bouldering and rock climbing, I
casually asked him, "so Dope, how would you rate this one?"
quicky he replied "maliwanag na singko!" (clearly a
5!) then told me that if I want to turn back, this is
the time to do it. "HELL
NO!" I snapped. I wasn't quick to agree
at first after having just cleared a most harrowing experience
climbing virtually unaided on the rock face. I
won't go down the same route again! Just imagine
two guys in heavy leather boots, shouldering 40+ lbs packs
doing class V routes with only a 30 ft accessory rope. My goodness!
It was madness! I could have easily fallen and
died...and on several instances, I nearly did. In
my mind's eye I saw myself plunging down the milky abyss like
a rag doll, tumbling on the snow slopes and hitting the jagged
rocks that jut out of the ice, looking like a hungry beast out
to devour me. Around 6:30 pm, dark clouds made
their way to envelope the peak and the wind picked up
strenght as the sun slowly set. Didn't bode well at
all. Clueless as to where we were, starved and
exhausted, only an hour of sunlight was left for us to
continue. Should we continue up or down? Dope
made the wise decision to turn back. We were
probably under a thousand feet from the summit. Our
attempt failed. We needed to go down and fast
because the high altitude winds can easily blow us off the
ledge if we didn't grab onto the rocks with a death
grip. This was one of those rare ocassions when one
is forced to be intimate with an inanimate object--the slabs
of stone and minute crevices were objects of undue affection
for without them to cling on to, dear life
would perish.
BACKPACKERS & BACKPACKS IN FREEFALL II
On our descent, Dope blazed again and I followed as quickly and
as carefully as I can. A frozen portion
of a gully proved too tricky even for him but nature gifted
him with extremely long legs so he caught a foothold in
time. At this time, my backpack too suffered the
same fate as his. Without second thoughts, I removed my pack
and offered it to gravity before it pulled me down with
it. It fell down hard and fast, it fell down far
and nearly mangled when it finally rested on the rocks with my
ThermaRest even farther down. "Dang! Stuff
can be replaced...my life can't!" On my turn to climb
down the icy ravine, I asked Dope to get out of the way so I
won't crash into him. "You fall, I fall"
he uttered and positioned his 6 ft, 155 lb frame to catch me
in the event I miss a foothold and slide
down. And slid, I certainly did!
"AAAaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!!" My speedy
descent was stopped suddenly and forcefully by my climbing
partner's able hands. If it weren't for his
stubborn display of heroics, my fall would've ended in the
throes of jagged rocks. A fall that could easily
spell death. I knew I was in good hands--Dope is an avid
rock climber who's trained in leading class
5.10's. I realized that what I'm doing here is far
riskier than jumping out of a perfectly good airplane--at
least parachute rigs offer a reserve. At that point
I exclaimed, "I'd rather be skydiving!"
HUFFED AND PUFFED
More rocks and more snow. Darkness ensued. We
thought we could make it back to the parking lot and get a
room at a Youth Hostel in town, grab a beer and a nice warm
meal. We couldn't. It was easy to get lost
in a moonless night without a trail to follow. Near the rushing creek
we struggled to set-up our tent amidst a barrage of
60-90mph winds blowing in every direction. Once
again, TNF has lived up to its name as expedition proven
gear. My Nimbus tent survived the unceasing
punishment of violent winds throughout the
night. Unfortunately, the tent was only made to protect us
from the elements...not the pandemonium outside that kept us
awake for another night. Our last drop of energy
was exhausted from pitching the tent. We were too
tired to eat, too drained to even drink. All
we could afford to do was hit the sack. At 9:30 pm,
we entered our tiny sanctuary. The day was over and
thankfully, so's the worst part.
R & R, P & P
Our bodies ached like hell the next morning and upon close
inspection of our extremities, we found cuts and
bruises. We hiked uneventfully back to the parking
lot, dropped by the portal store to buy a souvenir pin and
drove off to civilization. At Chino Hills, Let Q.
prepared barbecued spare ribs, steak and chicken to celebrate our
return. Though we failed to summit, we succeeded in
cheating death. I can live with
that. Ordinary mortals view the weekend as an
opportunity for rest and recreation...mine was more of pain
and punishment. This weekend showed me that underneath
the beautiful exterior of the wilderness lies danger
unbeknownst to those who dare not venture out into the great
outdoors, danger to those who come unprepared.
For feedback, write to cbrazon@worldtelphil.com
