A Day Hike Up Mt Langley

On Friday, August 12, my girlfriend, Kenna, and my two roommates, Tyler, Joe, and I, left San Luis Obispo to make a beeline towards Lone Pine.  It was my second trip in 3 weeks to the Eastern Sierras; in July, I had summited Mt Whitney, but not before nearly being struck by lightning near the summit. I was hoping for clear skies this trip, but in the darkness as we drove, a thunderstorm flickered over the Mojave as we rounded the southern corner of the Sierras. An hellishly early morning would be our best chance to stay out of trouble the next day. 

Our objective was Mt Langley, 14,032 feet and the southernmost 14er in the lower 48. The 23 mile, 5,000 feet gaining trail requires no permits for day hikers, and was sure to be far less crowded than Mt Whitney. After our nearly 6 hour drive, we crammed into our 1 bedroom hotel, prepared our backpacks and got ready for bed. As is the case for most of my big adventure wake ups, I have a real problem actually falling asleep in anticipation of the alarm. This night proved to be an especially severe case. I stayed up the whole night with ease, diving deep into Youtube’s extensive catalog of bear attack videos to pass the time. I even had the audacity to sound my alarm 10 minutes before our agreed upon time of 1:50, much to everyone’s delight. I couldn’t wait any longer. 

Buzzing with excitement, we loaded into the car and made our way up Horseshoe Meadows Road. After the flash floods the previous week that washed out our would-be campsite, I wasn’t positive that the road would be open at 230 am. Luckily, this proved to be me being overly paranoid, and we arrived at the Cottonwood Lakes trailhead without incident at 3 am. Although a fairly popular trailhead for backpackers, the parking lot was fairly empty, with only one other car light showing signs of life. 

With a slight chill in the air and clear skies, we couldn’t have asked for better weather at our 10,000 foot starting elevation. As we walked to the trailhead across the parking lot, another group of hikers saw us approach and ran to the trailhead to get started before us, cutting in front of me in the process. I figured they must have been legendary alpinists to be so confident that their pace would be faster, but after a few hundred yards of tailgating them and even having my request to pass ignored, we jogged around them and passed. As we did, one of the guys remarked, “There goes the Donner party.” Sure, we didn’t have the matching orange puffy jackets that they did, but I felt that was quite a moronic thing to say. 

After leaving them in the dust, we pushed through the almost flat, forest section of the trail. I was almost sure we were the first party on the trail, which meant a higher likelihood of running into animals. Langley has a dramatically more remote feel than Whitney, with the pitch black portion of our day providing a slight spooky undertone, especially with the near constant line of bear tracks that followed the muddy trail. After roughly 5 miles, we emerged from the forest and past the timberline, revealing a wide open meadow and our first few of Langley. 

455 am, and our first break from the forest.

From this point, we decided on New Army Pass for our approach; I opted for the longer, easier grade to give our group time to acclimate to the altitude before the more intense summit push. The sun finally rose as we approached High Lake, the second lake on the trail, where we were greeted with near panoramic views of the Cottonwood Lakes Basin. Langley was already providing the 14er experience I always wanted; no crowds, spectacular views and diverse terrain. I was confident we were making it to the top.

After High Lake, the trail has its first difficult section. A slow climb up a series of switchbacks brought us to the top of New Army Pass, where we took a short break to take in the views. Back at High Lake, I saw our friends in the orange puffy jackets finally approaching the first incline of the day. They looked to be dragging; I could almost make out the excuses they were making to each other about why they couldn’t catch us. As silly as it sounds, our group was energized by having a common enemy on the trail that seemed to be rooting for our failure. That was the last we would see of them. 

Our last water stop before things got steep

We were now in the high alpine, pushing north along the high ridge that would soon connect us to the summit push. At this point, the hike hadn’t been very strenuous. All of the uphills had an end, and I felt energized for whatever lay ahead. At around 12500 feet is where the trail finally gets interesting; the remaining 1600 feet of elevation seemed to be concentrated to the last mile or so and the altitude effects began to kick in. 

Due to our early start, we had all the time we needed to slog our way up. Our group eventually dispersed slightly to allow for everyone to go at their own pace. I had real concerns that Tyler would be unable to summit; he had lost all of the color in his face and was breathing very heavily. I trusted that he could watch out for himself if needed while we pushed on to the summit. 

After doing Whitney only a few weeks before, I felt that Langley’s summit push was more challenging. The long, sustained uphill with no switchbacks didn’t allow for any breaks. At 13,000 feet, walking on all fours up and over boulders sapped my energy.  It came as quite a relief when the three of us crested one last pile of rocks and reached the summit. With seemingly no threat of lightning like my Whitney day, I allowed myself to relax and take in the dramatic scenery. 

I didn’t want to stay for too long; Tyler was not making any progress when I had last seen him, and I was convinced that he was stopped and waiting for us. I had no doubt he was willing to give everything he had, and with the return journey of 12 miles, I knew that could be costly. To my genuine shock, when I wandered to the edge of the summit to look for him, I saw him still battling only ten minutes from the summit. We yelled our support as he closed the distance, and a summit celebration ensued when he reached the top. 

Mt Whitney and a lot of other peaks I don’t know yet.

To the north of our position, the summit of Whitney was already beginning to attract some cloud cover. A thunderstorm didn’t seem in the cards for us today, but my PTSD from a few weeks prior got us off the summit quicker than was probably needed. The high of summiting and achieving our goal quickly wore off and the 12 mile descent back to the car became all I could think about. We opted to take Old Army Pass down for a change of scenery which ended up shaving off some time. 

Once we were down in the Cottonwood Lakes Basin, I couldn’t believe we still had 7 miles of flat, mostly forested terrain between us and the car. This is the unglamorous part of days like these, where the views are all but gone, the objective is complete, and only a mental battle remains. At many different points, I hallucinated a sprinter van in the parking lot or a trailhead sign. Whether it was my zero minutes of sleep or low blood sugar causing it, it was clear that my brain was ready to tap out.

After finally making it back to the trailhead, the job was only half complete. We still had a 5 and a half hour drive in front of us and I knew I couldn’t do it alone. After a few hours behind the wheel and enough caffeine in my system to smell sound, my brain began to shut down in a way I had never experienced before. I was still wide awake, but was no longer capable of basic motor function. Luckily, Kenna was able to heroically get us all the way home, wrapping up one of my finest adventures to date on this planet.