What happens when you get 10 hot mamas in their late 30’s/early 40’s together to climb Mt. Whitney?
Well, I can tell you what’s probable and you may not like it. Some of it might gross you out. Some of it might freak you out. Some of it might do both.
But the truth of the matter is, someone will very likely:
Fall in a creek
Lose their phone
Get light headed and disoriented and think every tree is talking to them
Have intestinal issues
Have tingly fingers
Curse the marmots that are in cahoots with each other to make every backpacker inconveniently have to carry around a bear canister that takes up half your pack
Have to pee every 10 minutes
Get their finger caught in the door of the Mt. Whitney Hut
Poo in a bag and carry that bag with them the entire trail
Get sick from energy bars
Take 7 different types of meds in the hopes it will get them to the top
Bring a defective stove
Bring an 8 pound tent
Hit a wall
Hit another wall
Oh, hi wall!
Curse every rock they see
Adopt a young backpacker into the group
Get shoulder and clavicle bruises from the heavy pack
Not summit …
But, not this group of 10. We all made it to the top of Mount Whitney!
Look these things are bound to happen. I’m happy to report I had no altitude sickness. I’m also so freaking proud that all of these ladies made it to the top of this majestic mountain. Despite, the unpleasant side effects of altitude sickness and just plain exhaustion, these women powered through it all with a refusal to turn back. We rose at 2:30 am to beat the storm and it started raining just as after our summit. The Whitney Gods heard us and they answered. To the rest of you we passed walking into the storm…. well, I guess The Whitney Gods liked us better.
Well done ladies. Well done.