TRAVEL TALES

Young Chang

On an 18-hour, 14,499-foot climb up Mt. Whitney in Northern

California, Elsa Matthews, Susan George and four friends got to talking.

Not about work or money or houses or cars, but about families and past

climbing experiences.

It was a nonjudgmental group of people, Matthews remembers. A group

that bonded over the common challenge of making it to the highest point

in the lower 48 states. A group that shined the flashlight for one

another when it got dark.

And when it was over, when Matthews, George, Wayne Frey, Jim Palmer,

Doug Branch and Karim Khoshab hiked up to the peak and then down to the

trail-head together, they shared hugs and tears and the pride of having

accomplished something that was once feared.

“I felt like I was the king of the world, or the queen,” Matthews, 52,

said. “It does something to your life.”

George, 55, added, “It’s the challenge. At this point in our lives,

you say, ‘I wonder if I can do that?’ ”

The two Newport Beach friends put an end to that wonder in October and

are planning a follow-up trip this September. George had climbed Whitney

once before. She swore she would never do it again. But when the trip

came up, and Matthews agreed to attempt the climb, George changed her

mind.

They trained for nine months, taking long hikes twice a week at Turtle

Rock, sprinting for six miles twice a week at the same location and

venturing up high altitudes twice a month at local mountains, including

Mount Baldi and San Gorgonio.

A week before their final challenge, Matthews and George climbed the

Eastern Sierras. Matthews suffered a bout of acute mountain sickness. The

high altitudes caused headaches soforceful, it felt like she was hit by a

truck, Matthews said.

“A lot happens when you get above 7,000 feet,” said George, whose

biggest challenge was not getting dehydrated.

Matthews remembers almost giving up entirely and threatening to throw

all her hiking gear away.

But the friends endured. The weather was nice the day they climbed

Whitney. Matthews didn’t get sick, and George drank plenty of water.

They hiked through 97 switchbacks -- diagonal paths carved along the

mountain for climbers “because we’re not mountain goats,” George said --

and didn’t “hit the wall once.”

That’s hiking lingo for giving up and turning back.

When they got to the peak, the six friends signed their names in a

guest book, alongside the signatures of other proud climbers who had made

it to the top.

You really do feel something when you sign, Matthews said.

But the feelings were less intense when they first arrived at the

peak. They looked down both sides -- to their left was the Owens Valley.

To their right lay more of Sequoia National Park. The scenery was

incredible, Matthews and George remember. But it took a while to see

clearly.

“Your mind is a little foggy, for one,” Matthews said.

“And you babble,” George added. “The words don’t come out right.

That’s one of the effects of altitude.”

A plane flew by when they were up top. It was almost at eye-level -- a

bright red and white Cessna 172 with passengers inside smiling and

waving.

“We could see what color hats they had on,” George said.

Now back at sea-level, the friends say the trip has changed their

lives. In their early 50’s, Matthews and George are rejuvenated and eager

to take on their next outdoor challenge -- surviving in the snow, through

a wilderness survival class they’re currently taking.

Matthews also treasures the friendships she has made. She says it’s a

special kind of companionship formed between climbers. She doesn’t get

mad anymore about little things as often as she used to, and she says her

perspective has changed somewhat.

“It’s almost spiritual,” she said of her accomplishment. “If you’re

into hiking, it’s quite a milestone.”

* Have you, or someone you know, gone on an interesting vacation

recently? Tell us your adventures. Drop us a line at Travel Tales, 330 W.

Bay St., Costa Mesa, CA 92627; e-mail young.chang@latimes.com; or fax to

(949) 646-4170.