Alabama Hills

The hot, dry sun of southeastern Sierra Nevada’s. The relentless buzzing in your ear from the silence. One of our favorite places, Alabama Hills. We pulled into the dirt road and a white cloud trailed behind the van. The combination of the dust and the dry heat burned on nose hairs. I don’t think Alabama Hills is BLM land but camping here just means finding a spot. There is no water, no toilets of any kind, or cell service. It’s wild and free. The definition of what we love.

We wanted to rock climb but had to pick a spot to camp. We found a secluded area behind a rock that was shaped like a rabbit head we formally named Cottoneye Joe. A few rocks enclosed us and gave us some privacy. The fact that we could see other cars and tents for a few miles meant they would probably see us too. There were no trees in sight. We set up our tent toward the top of a hill, getting an unobstructed view for sunrise. A tad windy on the hill, but we didn’t think anything of it. We wanted to rock climb shark fin’s arete. A popular climb, we didn’t know if anyone would be there on a Wednesday night. When we arrived the conditions were perfect, solitude and 70°. Zack was ready to lead. This climb was a lot more intense than the one at Pinnacles and a lot higher too. He said he knew he had to complete it or I would try to send it and get hurt. It was a major step up from anything we’ve ever done. Especially leading. So when he set up the anchor we were shouting and howling. Who was going to stop us? Who would complain we were too loud. We cheered and I ran off to take pictures as he was clipped in the the anchor. I was up next but on top rope. Making it less of a challenge. If I fell I knew I wasn’t going anywhere. On the other hand if Zack fell he would fall until one of his quickdraws in a bolt would catch him. I made it to the top, cleaned, and rappelled. I hate rappelling. It’s the only time my fear of heights bothers me when I climb. The sun was setting behind us and the sky was turning pink.

We headed back to our campsite had some pasta and sauce. Worried about the creatures of the desert that come out at night we ended up in bed before 8.

The sunrises from the east illuminating the Sierra Nevadas with a yellow alpine glow. This one spot is popularly photographed, for obvious reasons. Even if we’ve seen it before and a ton of times on social media, the view is nothing like you can explain. Slowly the pinks, oranges, and yellows start to cast their colors on the desert below the high mountains until every boulder is lit.

The next morning we fried some eggs and slapped them on English muffins, we needed to fuel up before another big climbing day. A more difficult climb than the night before but less exposed. Zack attempted a few times to lead but we ended up bailing and finding an easier route up. I led this one and set up the top rope for the harder climbs. After Zack’s close attempt and only getting stuck at the crux, I knew he could send it. He just needed a little convincing. What I told him to do sounded outrageous but it was the only way up. After he argued with me for a while saying I was the worst belayer because I assumed he could do the impossible. I mean to be honest at one point I did say “get your left foot in the hold, swing your body to the right, fly through the air like a monkey and grab the hold with your right hand.” Well maybe not the best advice but he ended up completing the move. Up he went. I was up next. I have never climbed a 5.9 before, and the move Zack struggled on wasn’t that difficult for me because I watched him over and over, and my legs are more flexible. After hanging out at the crag we ate some lunch. I had a peanut butter banana sandwich and Zack tuna on an everything bagel.

We decided it was time to explore some more. We could see Mt. Whitney in the distance, the tallest mountain in the lower 48. We took Whitney portal all the way as high as we could. Funny what perspective does. The rock is the same as Yosemite, but from the desert of Alabama Hills, the distance makes it look chalky and sharp. We gave De’Von a break on an overlook and added Mt. Whitney to our future climbing wish list. Heading down the mountain we talked about how hungry we were. Ugh what I would do for that Thai food back in Lake Tahoe. The reason we love Alabama Hills so much is it’s solitude. If you don’t want to be found you can stay hidden for years, but if you want Chinese food you can drive 15 mins into downtown Lone Pine and grab some, which is of course what we did. By the time we got back to the tent it was late and the wind was absolutely horrendous. The wind whipped us around as we walked up our hill. We quickly took some pictures of the night but the moon dominated the sky. So big and so bright it looked like day.

Under the watch of Cottoneye Joe was our tent filled with dirt and sand. Oh the desert. We shook out our sleeping bags but everything felt like there was a coat of gritty dirt. Occasionally we would get a piece of sand in between our teeth and hear it crunch. Our pillows, a normally bright blue faded due to the white dust. The wind kept us up all night as the tent slashed around. Somewhere in the early morning it finally came to a halt and we were able to rest our sleepy eyes and worn out hands.