Mount Whitney
, written:

Mount Whitney

We knew we couldn’t hike to the top of Mount Whitney. One way would have been 11 miles already. So we decided to rest at a lower altitude, at Lake Lone Pine.

Lake Lone Pine

We hiked up without knowing the distance. The estimations of hikers approaching us varied too much. Alan was dragging behind because he was sleep- and food-deprived.

We finally reached the pretty lake. We refreshed ourselves with some nut pastry and lake-cooled Asian juice. When we bathed our feet in the water, Alan unfortunately cut his heel pretty deeply *ouch*

Downhill, we were taking short-cuts. So I peed somewhere off-trail. To do so, I took of my thin jacket and put it on a stump. That’s when the drama of Mount Whitney began.

I didn’t realize that I had forgotten to bring my jacket along until we were back on the trail. Ambitiously, I took off all by myself, convinced to find it in a few minutes. Instead, I didn’t find my jacket at all but even lost Alan and Supar.

Lake Lone Pine

Eventually, I hiked down further, desperately calling Alan. Luckily, I met two Germans who confirmed me that they hadn’t met any guy with a dog. So I hiked back up. After a little while, I met Alan + Supar *unbelivably happy*

Alan didn’t say much on the way down, just that he was too exhausted to talk. The lecture followed on the car ride to Lone Pine: “You don’t take off brainlessly all by yourself! I have the bag with water, whistle, flash light, emergency blanket. We always work as a team! We’re responsible for each other! We could have searched together systematically. Such a jacket is definitely not worth getting hurt. Imagine you were even unconscious and I couldn’t find you…” A valuable lesson with – fortunately – a happy end.

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