We are in Great Basin National Park: isolated, quiet, majestic. Very few visitors to this place near the border of Nevada and Utah. Twenty of us are here, camping with Michael Ellis and the group is very compatible, aged 50's to 80's and coming from Northern California, Oregon, and Long Beach.
Several days into the visit, after wonderful walks to the tree line and above, Michael has planned an optional climb of Wheeler Peak - thirteen thousand and some odd feet high, and I am among the eight that raise our hands around the campfire the night before. By breakfast, the group is reduced to six due to some injuries from the hike yesterday. We rise early to set off on the trail by seven, due to concern for possible afternoon thunderstorms.
The last time Michael was here he was on the exposed ridge in a sudden lighting storm, and he is NOT going to let that happen again. Now it is a beautiful day, and an easy first mile starting at 10,000 feet through meadows and aspin groves, but the mountain looms in the distance. The upper sections are very exposed, and the route follows a ridgeline that is easy at first and then steeper and steeper as we proceed.
The six of us stretch out along the trail - a quick count indicates that there are more bad knees than there are climbers. Soon after the trees thin out near 11,000 feet, Melody checks in by walkie-talkie to say she is turning back. Now the trail is just loose rock of all sizes and footing is tricky but Michael is powering ahead, wanting to reach the peak and celebrate with his hula hoop before his knee gives out. Richard, Lee, Jane and I plod along, offering encouragement to each other. We are also spurred on by Melody below, and now by Michael from the summit, but it is slow going.
For a while, I am in the lead and it is easy to loose the trail - just rocks on top of rocks. Now we can see the summit, but it doesn't seem to be getting any closer - this is not good. Somehow we do get to the top, the last little bit goes quickly - Michael is ahead, waving is up with is hula hoop. The view is spectacular - Wheeler is at least a thousand feet higher than anything to the horizon.
After a few group hugs and photos of The Wheeler Peak Five, as we have been dubbed by Richard, we pick our way back down on tender knees. We all knew this would be the hard part, and it is. We survive, but somehow it is longer going down than it was going up.
