HIBISCUS red, dragon fruit red, bougainvillea red. Or is it more blood red emerging from the black wisps of horizontal cloud? An apocalyptic and hypnotic sunrise seen through a snow blizzard at 14,000 feet (4267m). Frighteningly beautiful, I lament the photo I can’t take. A nanosecond of observation is all I can spare. My memory, its only record.
Three hours earlier I had left my campsite beside Guitar Lake at 2.30am. Yesterday’s weather report predicted a 30 per cent chance of rain. Other hikers agreed it was still possible to summit Mt Whitney under these conditions. It would take me several hours to climb precipitous switchbacks, reach the junction to the summit, watch the dawn from atop the mountain and then descend a further 8km via the Whitney Portal Trail to finish my traverse of the High Sierras on the John Muir Trail (JMT).
At 2.00am, I hear distant thunder. Should I reassess? Have another cup of coffee? Even go back to sleep. This is my last day on the trail. I
