Today I did my Whitney attempt – a popular side quest to gain the highest point in lower 48 states. I’d had 2 hours sleep. Up at 0.30am, out at 1am. 4000ft to climb in 8 miles.
At 5 miles, 12700ft with 1700ft to go I stupidly, literally stared into the abyss with my head torch over the trail edge down a very steep slope, and vomited. I immediately turned back worried I had severe altitude sickness.
Post event I worked out I was suffering from exhaustion, dehydration, hunger and vertigo rather than altitude sickness.
Returned to camp at 7am hallucinating from tiredness. Tried to sleep, didn’t snooze until 3pm. Forced myself to eat 2 big meals and took ibuprofen and a valerian based sleeping pill. I slept like a log from 9pm until 6am – just what I needed.
During the day I stared figuratively into the abyss. I let all the negative feelings about the PCT pour out of me, always reminding myself never to quit on a bad day. I couldn’t do it, it felt too much like a forced route march, my bag was too heavy, I was homesick, my minor injuries stacked up and multiplied, scared of the heights, snow, river crossings, bears.
Willem and Olga passed by. They’d missed their summit opportunity and were heading north, soon they’d be a day ahead of me. They listened to my woes and came up with suggestions how I may continue. Thanks guys! ❤️
James also walked by; hadn’t seen him since day 1. It was nice to catch up and hear encouraging words from him. “Fuck Whitney, the PCT is hard enough” he said – I had to agree with him.
I did get to see sunrise on the western mountains which was beautiful, so it wasn’t all bad day.
And that creek I’d crossed night before meandered through a lovely meadow.
New Valley Hills 
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