20 



AMERICAN FORESTRY 



THE HIGHEST PEAK IN THE UNITED STATES 



This is Mt. Whitney in southern California, and for all its distinction as the highest mountain in this 

 country it is most easy of ascent and from this point of view not at all impressive. From its summit 

 may be seen the town of Tom Pine, two miles below, and the inclination is strong to step carefully 

 in fear of dislodging some stone that might crush the tiny hamlet. 



The ascent up the canyon is commenced at Junction 

 Meadow at an elevation of 8,000 feet. From there the 

 trail climbs steadily to an elevation of approximately 

 11,000 and then drops to 10,300 at Crab Tree Meadow 

 This is the camp from which most trips are made, from 

 the western side, to the summit of Mt. Whitney. Despite 

 the fact that Mt. Whitney is the hjghest peak in the 

 United States, the ascent is in no way difficult except for 

 those to whom the presence of pure ozone in the lower- 

 most cavities of the lungs is a strange and terrifying ex- 

 perience. There is a stretch of about 500 feet called the 

 Chimney which presents a few passages here and there 

 which at first seem a trifle difficult to negotiate, but they 

 become simple as they are approached. The summit is 

 pervaded with a spirit of aloofness from the lower 

 world which is most impressive and this, together with 

 the view of Lone fine over two miles below and less 



than twelve miles to the east, 

 seems to lift the peak to an alti- 

 tude that more closely approxi- 

 mates the heavens than many of 

 those who climb had ever hoped 

 to attain. The east shoulder of 

 the mountain is a vertical preci- 

 pice of 1,500 feet, at the base 

 of which lies a small lake which 

 is partly covered with snow and 

 ice. Desolation and lightning- 

 pierced piles of granite boulders 

 surround the peak on every side, 

 and if the ever-imminent storm 

 does not suggest the advisability 

 of immediate departure, the cold 

 and the sensation of approaching 

 tragedy are bound to do so. 

 Strangely enough the return trip 

 is more difficult than the ascent 

 and sighs of relief are a familiar 

 sound to the stunted pines of 

 Crab Tree Meadow. 



The next fifteen miles of the 

 trail that leads to Whitney 

 Meadows is a succession of 

 weird scenery and startling pano- 

 ramas. The trail passes over the 

 sand flat to the east of Mt. Guyot 

 and around the southern shoulder 

 of the Siberian Outpost to the 

 home of the golden trout. 



Scenery, like people, is of in- 

 terest in proportion to the degree 

 of individuality which it ex- 

 presses. A rolling hill of non- 

 descript character will no more 

 interest a traveler than will a 

 person with nondescript features 

 and mediocre mind. There is a 

 strange individuality to the 

 scenery in the vicinity of the Si- 

 berian Outpost which is all but 

 intangible. On either side of the trail are fields of dwarf 

 lupins of that pale blue which suggests the watery eye of 

 the "ancient mariner." In the distance not many miles 

 are forests of spectral trees silhouetted against the neutral 

 gray of granite peaks. The entire scene is pregnant with 

 the spirit of mystery and desolation. In sharp contrast 

 to it is the babbling brook that tumbles down over the 

 granite boulders that have resisted the disintegrating 

 forces. 



Whitney Meadows are threaded by Golden Trout 

 Creek, which is the home of the famous golden trout and 

 the only place in the world where this particular variety 

 of fly-loving, golden-bellied trout are to be found. The 

 meadow on either side of the creek is free of any 

 growth, save grass, for hundreds of yards, and if your 

 eye is sharp enough and your hand sufficiently skilled, 

 you may cast a fly into the corner of the pool forty or 



