High Sierra Backpacking: Cottonwood Lakes to Mount Whitney
The highest peak in the Lower 48, the long way: a trip report
Trip specs
- Location: Inyo National Forest (Golden Trout Wilderness, John Muir Wilderness) ➡️ Sequoia National Park ➡️ Inyo National Forest (the Whitney Zone)
- Route: One-way from Cottonwood Lakes trailhead to Whitney Portal, via Old Army Pass, Mount Langley, Upper Soldier Lake, Miter Basin, Crabtree Pass/Lakes, the John Muir Trail, and the Whitney Trail
- Stats: 40 miles, ~14.5k total elevation gain, ~16k elevation loss, two 14ers, entire trip above 10k elevation (except exit at Whitney Portal)
- Dates: Aug. 21–26, 2020 (6 days and 5 nights, although we’d planned for 7 days/6 nights)
- Conditions: Variable, more temperamental than usual in the Sierra. Temps range with elevation, ~40s at night to ~70s daytime with intense sun. Sporadic thundershowers on days 3–4. Heavy smoke and ash on day 4 due to the SQF Complex fire.
- Travel: Lone Pine, California, is the closest town with services (there is also a store at Whitney Portal). Lone Pine is 3–4 hours from L.A. and 7–8 hours from the Bay Area. A drop car or other transportation is needed between Whitney Portal and Cottonwood Lakes trailheads.
- Special gear: A bear canister is required throughout. A tent/tarp that holds up to strong winds and can be anchored to rocks (without stakes). Diamox. Fishing gear. Sun protection.
- Photos: Whitney 2020 faves
Planning
This year’s trip was considerably less remote than last year’s trip to Alaska. Mount Whitney, the highest peak in the Lower 48 (sorry, Colorado), is a bucket-list summit for any altitude-inclined hiker.
Our route, however, is considerably less-frequented than the typical out-and-back summit from Whitney Portal or even the three-week John Muir Trail. We approached Mount Whitney from the back side (the west) via a long meandering route from the Cottonwood Lakes trailhead to the south.
This was our planned route. 13k ascent, nearly 15k descent, about 40 miles.
Here’s our actual route. New stats: 14.5k ascent, 16k descent, about 40 miles. The extra elevation oomph was due to our addition of 14er Mount Langley, and the equivalent distance comes from two significant shortcuts.
Permits: You need two permits for this trip: entry at Cottonwood Lakes and exit at Whitney. Both are high-demand and limited-supply, so you need to plan ahead (or have a friend who does). My tripmate snagged these highly coveted permits via a February midnight clickathon. I wouldn’t have been able to make this trip without L’s foresight.
Safety in the High Sierra. The vast majority of this trip is above 10k, and most of it is above treeline. It’s a rugged place. High winds, sporadic thundershowers, and rocks — rocks everywhere. Up here, the usually hospitable Sierra Nevada gives way to terrain and conditions less forgiving.
The altitude is certainly a factor. All the usual warnings apply: sleep high and acclimate as much as you can. Drink lots of water. I was coming from sea level with only one night sleeping at elevation (10k at Cottonwood Lakes hiker campground) before we embarked, and I have experienced altitude effects before in Leadville and Breckenridge (although never sickness). Luckily, I barely noticed the altitude on this trip. I felt strong and was able to catch my breath easily. I did take Diamox for the first time ever, and I believe that made the difference. Obviously, results may vary, don’t take without consulting your doc, etc.
We encountered plenty of people from Cottonwood trailhead to Langley and from the JMT to Portal. But fellow backpackers are rarer during the few days of off-trail in the middle, which is also the most remote (and trickiest) part of the trip when breaking an ankle would be no bueno. We didn’t bring a backcountry beacon/comms device but it certainly wouldn’t hurt.
Fishing: I’m not a fisherperson. But my two companions are fish-crazy. Based on the permits and L’s intel on the best lakes for golden trout, the route came together intuitively. My companions had modest success in several lakes.
Covid: We all got tested before we went and brought masks/sanitizer. The masks came in handy for the smoke on Day 4.
Itinerary
Day 0
Drove from the Bay Area to Whitney Portal, dropped my car, hopped in with my companions to drive to Cottonwood Lakes trailhead, where we camped at the (very busy — and noisy) hiker campground. Enjoyed some easy takeout for dinner and the last cold beer for several days.
Day 1
Into the wilderness. From Cottonwood Lakes trailhead, we hiked to Cottonwood Lake #5. This is the perfect Day 1 of a high-altitude backpacking trip: distance and elevation gain are modest, allowing for flexibility and slow acclimation if anyone’s not feeling well. The Cottonwood Lakes area is quite busy — it seems to be a popular launching point for the southernmost 14er in the U.S. and for fisherfolks who want to try for golden trout but stick to a one-day out-and-back. We found a lovely but windy campsite and eyed the next day’s first challenge: Army Pass.
Day 2
We’d been warned about Army Pass from a fellow hiker: It’s unmaintained, a “bit of a scramble” compared to New Army Pass. And it looks pretty ugly from below. But there’s really no reason to worry — the trail is fine (as long as all the snow has melted). It’s a steep but short 1k up to the pass with just a couple of short rock-slide sections to navigate.
After gaining Army Pass more quickly and easily than we anticipated, we made a game-time decision to summit Langley. The standard plan here would be to drop packs at the Army Pass Trail, summit, and return. But I’d read about a “use trail” from the Langley Trail down to Upper Soldier Lake, cutting off significant mileage from the overall route. So we huffed our full packs up another 1k or so to where we thought that cutoff would be and dropped them at the first large cairn on the Langley trail.
Free of our backpacky encumbrances, we started up Langley, which was relatively uneventful until we decided to take a side trail — and wound up in class 2 rock pile at 13k+ trying to get back to the main trail. Stick to the main trail. Follow the cairns. We were fine but could have done without that unplanned scramble.
The summit was stunning, even for a 14er, with views of the Whitney crest, Miter Basin, the Owens Valley, and myriad ranges to the west and south. Some unexpected 4G led to a few check-in texts and calls. And we descended.
Back at our packs, we had an overdue lunch and mulled our descent to Upper Soldier. We over-analyzed it a bit but soon found ourselves happily sliding our way down a steep slope of loose gravel — a great way to lose 1k feet quickly. I definitely recommend this shortcut. It’s a great way to cut off some serious mileage and see Upper Soldier Lake. Just be sure to hit the drainage south of the Major General and you’ll be fine. (Some lightweight gaiters come in really handy here to keep rocks out of the boots as I squished my way down.)
We’d planned to hike all the way to Miter Basin that day, but with an unplanned 14er under our belt and Upper Soldier looking inviting, we called it quits and went for a swim amid the foxtail pines. (This lake seems to be fishless, by the way.)
Day 3
This day will live in my memory as one of my very favorite backcountry days of all time: the day I experienced Miter Basin.
We rose and did the usuals: coffee, breakfast, water, visit the “facilities,” pack up. After a few days, it becomes a rhythm.
The night before, we’d done some light scouting of the route over to Miter from Upper Soldier, hoping that we could retain our elevation without having to drop all the way to Lower Soldier and climb back up again. I was skeptical but it was unwarranted — there’s a lovely and fun granite shelf around the base of the Major General at roughly 11.2-11.3k that serves as a perfect entry path to the lower Miter valley.
Up we went, slowly angling northwest toward Rock Creek. The hike up this drainage is like slowly turning a dial on natural beauty from 6 to 11. The hiking is easy and surreal, replete with stunning high peaks lording over the meandering creek with its gorgeous small pools filled with tiny trout. The cirque crowning this masterpiece unfolds like a story until you reach the climax: the tough but short climb up to the natural dam of Sky Blue Lake. Here, words fail.
With this short hike down, L&J pulled out the rods and I went a’meandering. After a brief thundershower sent us back to our tents only to produce a few splatters, we decided to brave the dark clouds. I scrambled up to an inviting-looking shelf overlooking the lake, at the very base of the incredible Miter. (Another hour or two at my disposal would have led me to Iridescent Lake via some spicy-looking scrambling.)
Surrounded by 13ers and absolutely incredible scenery, we slept with the prospect of another tough day at hand.
Day 4
Easily the worst day of this trip.
The morning started as normal and we headed up toward Crabtree Pass. (Miter Basin is technically off-trail, but this is where it gets truly off-trail.) Route-finding on the ascent to the pass is tricky and meandering — I recommend keeping a close eye on your GPS and following the paths of least resistance on the topo lines, even if they’re out of the way. We picked our way along, finally emerging above what the map calls lake WL 3697 but we deemed Sky-High Blue Lake, with Crabtree Pass finally visible.
This part is important. The last push up to the pass, when you’re sick of route finding and probably not in the mood to consult your route again, is when you absolutely should — for it will decide your descent. There are three “chutes” of Crabtree Pass, which we’ll call left, middle, and right (coming from Miter). We came up the left one, which is the obvious gravel ascent. It’s also the highest part of the pass, and while I did not experience middle or right, it must be the sketchiest descent of the three. I have done my share of off-trail scrambling and I’m damn good on my feet, but this was the sketchiest shit I’ve done in years. J and L made it down with no issues, but I struggled mightily. Let’s blame my high center of gravity. All three descents are steep but left has many sections of sheer hardpack with tiny gravel to foil your traction. I took two small falls, one of which could have ended very, very badly had a well-placed left foot not arrested my fall. I had to stop twice to allow the adrenaline to wear off.
Finally I reached the bottom and took some time to wind myself down and have lunch — as the storms and smoke rolled in simultaneously.
The rest of the day/night was filled with disappointment over the shitty conditions for fishing, indecision over whether to descend to Crabtree 2, and worry about the sudden influx of smoke and ash falling from the sky. I masked up, fearing long-term effects of breathing the smoke, and tried to keep my mind from bad thoughts about unknown nearby fires and blocked exit routes. L&J tried to fish but with bad conditions and moods, it was short-lived. We rode out the night and hit the sack early, hoping for better the next day. The night was long, with high winds ripping at our tents and sporadic rain.
Day 5
We awoke to relief. Clear skies — both clouds and smoke. L&J threw their gear in their packs and headed down to Crabtree 2 to fish and have breakfast. I took a leisurely morning and happily descended to meet them just as the sun hit the valley.
Crabtree 2 is another truly wonderful place. 3 is rough, surrounded by rockslide and barely navigable. 2 is lower, larger, and much more hospitable. I enjoyed 2–3 hours of downtime in the morning as L&J fished, enjoying the sunshine, waterfall, and massive sheer rock faces of Mount Chamberlin. Superb.
We finally hit the trail en route to the base of Mount Whitney with some miles to cover, and we put them down like bosses. We descended past Crabtree 1 and then debated the full descent to Crabtree Meadow (staying on-trail) versus an off-trail cutoff to save us a mile or so. We of course opted for the latter, sticking to an elevation of around 11k as we traversed the base of Mount Hitchcock around to Whitney Creek, where we had lunch and finally merged onto the backcountry superhighway known as the John Muir Trail.
A couple more miles of moderate climbing and we were at Guitar Lake, where we set up camp amid a dozen or so other tents after several nights of having pristine locations mostly to ourselves. But after L pulled a few gorgeous golden trout out of the lake, we chatted with some giddy JMTers just one day out from the conclusion of their three-week adventure, and the alpenglow put on a five-star performance on the spires of Whitney and surrounding peaks, we lay down to a fitful sleep anticipating the huge day to come.
Day 6
I slept terribly, with a mind preoccupied. I awoke around 3 a.m. to empty my bladder and marveled at several tiny points of light on the switchbacks—the headlamps of backpackers who’d started in the dead of night to see sunrise from the summit.
The alarm came not long after, and I put into motion my action plan from the night before: water on the stove for coffee and breakfast while I packed my bag, pad, etc. One hour later, we were on trail, only a few minutes behind our 6 a.m. goal — the second-to-last group out of camp.
The first part of the climb went quickly, with our legs pumping and lungs well-acclimated. We hit the junction (~13.4k) west of Trail Crest in short order and dropped our packs, happy to be free of the weight, and continued up.
The next hour or so felt like a dream: the jagged, sinister peaks of Muir, the Aiguilles, and the Needles, plus the Whitney Windows providing glimpses of the smoke-covered Owens Valley.
A brief jaunt to the west to traverse the windy, rocky desolation of the summit hump, and then the summit hut and the rocky outcropping that marks 14,505 feet, the highest point above sea level in 49 states.
We took all the photos, signed the register, checked out the summit hut, had a snack, and basked in the wonderful summit conditions.
Then down. Back to the junction, we again hefted our full packs. More down. Soon a quick lunch while I examined my protesting toes. And more down — nothing but down … down for hours.
At Consultation Lake, where we’d planned to camp for Night 6, we quickly agreed to keep going (there’s something about rapid descent that feels easier than it is). Finally we approached Outpost Camp, where it was decision time: Stay at this unwelcoming wide spot in the trail or hike four more miles and a few more thousand feet down to the cars, with no plan for lodging that night. Four miles being too good to resist, we opted for the latter. The next two hours are a bit of a blur, but we made it to Portal in three whole pieces, hitting exactly 16 miles for the day, with 3.1k up and 6k down.
Lodging worked out fine.
Day 7
Canceled. Back home through the smoke.
Notes, tips, etc.
I wouldn’t want to do this route in reverse, but you certainly could. Camp at Trail Camp on night 1, Guitar Lake for 2, and onward. Getting up to Trail Crest with a full pack sounds like hell (but Crabtree Pass might be slightly better coming in the opposite direction).
Water is abundant throughout this route (lots of clean lakes and streams) except on Whitney. The last water on the trail is Guitar Lake. After the summit, the first water on the way down is a spring that flows right over the trail along the switchbacks. You could get away with 2 liters of capacity on this trip, but I prefer to keep 3 and not stop for water.
We had planned to hike from Cottonwood to Miter in a day and have one off day there. But we gave it up to summit Langley. It was worth it. Langley is a spectacular summit and the walk into Miter is perfect for a sunny morning. (But if I did have a flex day on this trip, I’d absolutely use it in Miter to go visit the upper lakes.)
My travel companions are a married couple, so with the covid epidemic, I decided to treat this trip basically as a solo journey — one-person tent, all my own food, filter, etc. This added a little weight but it also added freedom, as we were able to split up for half-days.
Gear
I like to nerd out on this stuff, but I’m a moderate when it comes to pack weight. I do what I can to keep things light, but I’m willing to carry the things I want — neither ultralight nor kitchen-sink. However, after I mapped this route and saw the elevation gain, I knew I needed to cut as much weight as possible.
I succeeded … somewhat. Here’s my final gear list. I left carrying under 40 pounds, which would make ultralighters cringe but is probably a personal best. I cut weight from several sources (dishes, fuel, clothing) but there’s only so much you can do while carrying 7 days’ worth of food, a bear canister, and a solo tent.
I could have cut more: I brought too many bars (I’ve learned to diversify my snacks to not just rely on bars, but I still bring as many bars as I did before I diversified my snacks!) and didn’t need my last day’s food. But otherwise my food was pretty dead-on for someone with a large appetite.
I added two luxuries at the last minute that I wasn’t planning on:
- Inflatable sleep pad. I was going to go foam-only to save weight but instead opted to cut my Z-Lite in half (to use as both a sit-pad and supplemental sleeping pad) and bring my uninsulated Static V (18 oz). This was a great decision. After hiking this hard and sleeping this high, a comfy night is worth the weight. And with my 32-degree bag, I was plenty warm. The half Z-Lite (7 oz) came in very handy for comfier sits around camp and some extra cushion under the torso at night. I usually bring a minimalist camp chair, but I didn’t miss it.
- Daypack. Since my backpack brain doesn’t convert to a daypack, I need something else for day hikes and water runs. It came in very handy on Langley, Whitney, and scrambles.
Other gear notes:
- The Katadyn BeFree 3L gravity water filter was new for this trip, replacing my very old Katadyn Hiker pump filter. The BeFree is a great upgrade over a pump. Slosh it around in a lake and let gravity do the work. It even hooks up to the outlet on my Camelbak bladder, which I never opened to fill manually on this trip. I’ve heard the BeFree really slows down after several uses, and I’ve already noticed the flow slowing a bit. (It can’t be backflushed like a Sawyer.) But even if the flow becomes a trickle, it’s still better than a pump. I bring backup iodine tabs, as well.
- I recently made the switch from using a handheld GPS unit (Garmin ETrex) for navigation and a point-and-shoot camera for photos to using only my phone for both. (Gaia GPS with basic sub is highly recommended, and the Pixel 4 camera is great.) To charge my phone and watch, I snagged an Anker 10k mAh for $20, and it’s very impressive for the weight (6.4 oz). I charged my phone and watch several times and walked out with the battery still showing 3/4 charge. This battery might power your whole group.
- Since I was eating solo, I kept dinners easy: four Mountain House freeze-dried meals (which are fine but surprisingly bulky) and two just-add-boiling-water meals that I packaged myself. One was the “ramen bomb”: one (good) ramen package, a half-package of instant potatoes, and a protein pack like salmon or chicken; boil the noodles a bit then add to the freezer bag with everything else, mix well. The second was parmesan-flavored couscous, pine nuts, sun-dried tomatoes, and a lot of olive oil. (Couscous is the king of backcountry grains, with a great ratio of weight/space to calories and “fill-up factor.”) Both eaten out of a freezer bag after hydrating with hot water. I did no dinner dishes on this trip.
- I absolutely love my Marmot Neothermo hoodie. It’s lightweight and breathable but keeps me warm in a range of situations, usually getting me to dusk in high altitudes before I need a puff. It seems to cut the wind almost as well as a shell too (and is quieter). It’s a great layer, and I’m tempted to cut the puff on a slightly warmer trip.
- The rental MSR Hubba Hubba NX single-person tent was ok but pretty beat-up. I actually had a pole snap during assembly on the second night due to a pre-existing cut in the tube. Luckily my buddy had a pole-repair sleeve or I might have been hiking out early. Otherwise the tent seemed solid.
Final thoughts
One of my favorite backpacking trips ever. Doubled my 14er count, ✔️ Mount Whitney, and experienced one of my all-time favorite backcountry locations.
The stats on this trip are eye-popping but honestly it didn’t feel as hard as it looks. I was encouraged by my fitness and ability to handle elevation, but again humbled by how quickly nature can turn on you.
The terrain is unforgiving and the constant rock (with few trees and scant riparian areas) can get a bit old. But there’s scarcely a better way to enter the high country than a trailhead at 10k.
It’s already starting to get cold up there, which means my attention now begins wandering to next year’s trips. Happy planning, happy hiking.
