Lightning Storm
Chipmunk Chase
While we were setting up our camp above Guitar Lake, I noticed a chipmunk in the rocks. He was flitting about, but gradually working his way closer to us. I figured he was after some food, but ours was secured, so I wasn’t worried. I even chased him off a few times to scare him a bit. After we were situated, I didn’t see him anymore, and forgot about him. It was late morning, but I hadn’t eaten my breakfast yet, so I got it out of the canister, and dumped the granola mix into my pot. Before I could add water, Craig asked me to help him with something. I put the pot into a plastic bag and put the whole thing into the tarp-tent and then zipped it shut. Craig’s chore only took a minute, so I quickly went back to my breakfast. The chipmunk had already gotten to it! He had chewed through the tarp-tent netting, and through the plastic bag—they were no barriers at all for a hungry rodent!
Of course, I yelled at him and tossed a rock his way, but the fault was my own. Rodents are very resourceful, and though they are naturally afraid of humans, the short growing season and intense competition for food entice them to take risks. Don’t expose your food for even a minute!
Beyond Tyndall Creek, we climbed again and came to the Bighorn Plateau. There is a shallow lake there, and we joked that it should have some resident vultures. There were no inlets or outlets, so this is water you wouldn't’t want to drink. About halfway across the open plateau, we met two older women hiking from the other direction. They were big women and both wore bonnets like those of the pioneer women who traveled on covered wagons in a bygone era. Except for the modern, heavy-looking packs on their backs, they could have been extras from a John Wayne movie. We greeted them, but didn’t stop long—they were working hard under the heavy weight of their loads. From this high plateau, Mount Whitney seemed very close.
We descended below tree-line again, and passed through a familiar-looking park-like area. With its big well-spaced pines, and flat terrain, we almost expected to see an RV or two parked somewhere. Of course, we were impossibly far from any roads. We climbed again, and headed towards the “W” creeks—Wright and Wallace. After crossing Wright Creek, we ascended and noticed that the sky had a threatening look. We were not quite above tree-line, but close. Though it was still early afternoon, we decided to pitch our tarp-tents and have dinner. During dinner, a very light rain started. Since we were well ahead of our schedule at this point, we decided to stay put for the night. In retrospect, our failure to move to a lower elevation, was a poor decision, and one that could have been costly.
The area around us was interesting. There were a few dead trees some obviously had been struck by lightening. In one of them was some sort man-made object. On closer inspection, it looked like a device for measuring the snow-pack. Since it was pretty high up in the tree, this area evidently got a lot of snow. It was raining a bit more now, so we collected some water for the evening, and retired to our tarp-tents. That night, a powerful electrical storm hit the area. When it was still some distance away, we awoke to volleys of loudly echoing thunder. As the storm approached, lightning flashes illuminated the trees, and thunderclaps followed more and more closely. Finally, there wasn’t any perceptible separation between the two. I've always enjoyed thunderstorms, but this was a little too close! Fortunately, the electrical activity moved off, and we were able to relax and get some sleep.
Guitar Lake Windstorm:
The next morning, we hiked a relatively short distance to Guitar Lake considered a staging point for those who want to climb Mount Whitney. The lake shore is fairly stony though and there were already a few other people camping in some of the better spots so we decided to climb a bit higher to an unnamed tarn, and found a much better spot to camp. Once again, the skies looked ominous, and after lunch, the wind began to pick up. When it started to rain, we got into our shelters. We were in a natural cirque with Mount Whitney on one side and another peak on the other, so the wind shifted direction constantly. Tarp-tents are A-frames, so they are susceptible to wind if it hits the opening straight on. We had staked them out well, anticipating the wind, but some of the gusts were really strong! We held onto them from the inside, but we weren't sure they would hold together. Henry Shires did a good job on the design and construction though, and his tarp-tents once again performed well. The storm passed through with little rain, and by late afternoon, the Sun came out and the surface of the tarn was dead still. The upper-reaches of Mount Whitney were still engulfed by black clouds.
Mount Whitney