"What happened to the food?" you ask? Well, nothing at all. No marmots, bears, or other mini-bear critters got a hold of it. Of course not, it is us we are talking about...right? Nothing bad ever happens to Team Smell Bad.
Only two groups were ahead of us (from our side of the mountain), and we could see the winding trail that led up to the pass via headlamps of the other groups. As the hike progressed, pre-dawn light made it possible to hike without headlamps. We had to stop a few times for drink and food breaks...well, and for air. It was like we were swimming underwater and holding our breath: there was just no air. Every time we would stop it seemed like we could not catch our breath. This had a lot to do with being out of shape, a lot to do with being dehydrated and succumbing to AMS, and even more to do with there being no air at 13,000ft.
Sunrise was the most spectacular thing I think I have ever seen. Just rows and rows of mountains stretching out as far as the eye can see. The sky was blood-red, foretelling a hectic afternoon, so after a few pictures we pressed on toward the summit. After passing one of the two crews in front of us, we hit the pass, located at 13,600ft. Fatigue was really setting in, and I realized I had not eaten enough food, nor drank enough water because I was feeling too nauseous. This was obviously a sign of AMS, but I have too much pride, and shoved down a few granola bars and Slim-Jims with a few swigs of water and braved the sickness. Jeff, on the other hand, could not brave the sickness and yaked all over the trail, leaving a strong doubt in Tom and myself whether or not Jeff was going to be able to continue.
Well, he toughed it out, and soon enough on the 2 mile traverse to the summit, the end was in sight. It still took way too long to get there, but we summited at 8am. No one spoke for a while up at the summit, just trying to take it all in, both the view and the air. I laid down and took a 5 minute nap on the freezing cold rock right on the summit. It was glorious. After 30 minutes (which passed in seconds, it seems) we realized we needed to start moving down. Here is the view from the Top:
Going down always proves to be much faster than going up, but no less pain. The pain is different, but just as bad. Our legs, knees, and feet start to ache maddeningly with each step. We want to stop, but would rather stop at the bottom, where there is no more hiking to done. As the hike progresses, the switchbacks never seem to end, and the heat just rises and rises as we descend into the desert and into the afternoon. Once back at the car, packs drop, legs drop, and altitude quickly drops on the way back into Lone Pine.
The usual Double Cheeseburger and soda were awaiting us at McDonald's (I hate the food and the company, but dang they are cheap!). Into Death Valley we sped headlong, until we hit mountain range after mountain range in my badly wounded vehicle. The car had not had an oil change YET on the trip, which put around 6500 miles of really hard, overloaded, rough driving on the engine with no lubed relief. Oh, and did I mention it was driving through Death Valley? So after we passed our lowest point in the trip (altitude-wise) at -190 ft below sea level, the car could not negotiate the mountain ranges and the 120+ degree heat...and the needle began to rise. Immediately the AC was turned off. The air was being circulated in the car, so it stayed cool...for about 4 minutes. As we climbed higher, the temperature inside the car also rose, and the speed of the vehicle dropped inversely to the temps, and was peaking at around 25mph. Finally we topped a pass, and it was all downhill into Vegas...
But not without a stop in Paducah. That's right, Paducah, NV: a small, quaint desert town that has too many rednecks and not enough cowboys (that are sober). As we roll in, the decision is made to put at least 2 quarts into the engine, which is undoubtedly running on sand as lubricant at this point in time. At the first gas station we encounter, oil is purchased, and the restroom of the adjacent bar is utilized. Inside which, I found all the cowboys in the town (it was 5 o'clock somewhere, I am sure), and as I left the following scene played itself out:
A woman was on her cell phone near a broken-down camper. A truck pulls into the parking lot squealing like a bat out of Hell. A man and a woman jump out of the truck, inspect the camper, and then the man approaches the woman that was on the phone. The exchange heats up quickly, fingers are pointed, obscenities are yelled, and something about "knowing where you live" was shouted. During this, the other patrons of the gas station had stopped pumping their gas and were just watching the scene unfold. We were doing no such thing. As soon as the conversation became audible to us, we moved like a fine-tuned machine to get the oil in the engine, gas topped off, hood closed, and car out of the lot in 20 seconds flat. There was one unifying thought that was running through all of our minds: I do NOT want to die in Paducah Nevada. Well, we didn't.
A little while longer and the Vegas skyline came into view. We drove right onto the Strip, jaws on the floor as we ogled the shear extravagance of the city. Before we knew it, we were checked into our hotel, beer was purchased, and we were already hitting the town. However, because of all the excitement of the day (summit, desert, Paducah, Vegas!), we neglected to eat any food. This will continue well into the next day...
So we go to the first casino we see and order a round of Jager Bombs. Jager for two reasons: One, it is the best liqueur ever made. Two, we needed a little wake-up after the drive. We were also under the impression that it was cheap to drink in Vegas. Well, when the bartender said "that is $11 apiece" we thought we must have truly misheard him. Apparently not. Well, we coughed it up and hit the casino floor a little miffed. Oh well, that was soon forgotten when we learned the secret to Vegas: nickel and penny slots. Why, you ask? Well, because if you are gambling, the waitresses will bring you FREE drinks. Don't go to the bar to drink, they want you to gamble. Well, now that the cat was out of the bag, we drank for cheap the rest of the night, until I left for the Hooters casino, won a few bucks there, then jumped a few fences through construction sites and evaded some police to make my way back to the hotel to pass out.
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