The Highest Prices

I don't want to brag here, but this weekend, RP and I were way, way, above you. In fact, we were the highest "thing" in the continental United States -- for all of about five minutes -- on Sunday.

Yes, we got high -- high on life like they encourage in middle school (Thanks, DARE.).

However, this little jaunt to Mt. Whitney wasn't all fun and games. In fact, there were a few low points for us Prices. One of those was my dead toenail and two were our attitudes by Sunday afternoon.

This whole climbing mountains thing was RP's idea, truth be told, but since it remains my idea to spend the holidays in the frozen Himalayas, I figured I owed it to RP to give up my usual weekend full of the gym, grocery stores, primary, and my couch.

We both regretted that decision.

Ok, it wasn't so bad. In fact, during the 15 minutes we spent at the 14,50- foot summit, the views were so spectacular (and the air was so thin and I was so dizzy) that we almost overlooked the fact that we had to somehow get off the mountain.

A few other points of the trip made it worth it, like watching RP cook ME dinner for a change -- and eating my first potato in about a decade (not that you could really call that garlic-spiced powder "potatoes"). RP even washed the dishes (mostly because I refused to leave the tent).

I got fully reacquainted with my trusted sleeping bag once the sun went down and the 12,000-foot mountain air attacked.

In the pre-dawn hours near the summit, looking down on the head-lamped hikers at camp was like seeingWhoville from the top of Mt. Crumpit. This was highly appropriate since I'm pretty sure my quads grew three sizes that day.

I have to say we were pretty impressed with our own performance -- we made it up to summit in 7.5 hours, and back down in 5, which is pretty good time considering that some people actually, like, train for this.

Plus, Mt. Whitney is the ultimate bonding experience. In fact, a mile from the summit, we had this conversation:

RP: "Honey, I think we're going to make it."

KP: "We're getting close."

RP: "If I collapse here, I want you to go on to the summit without me."

KP: "Oh honey."

RP: "... yeah?"

KP: "I absolutely will."

and this one:

RP: "I'm sick of these switchbacks."

KP: "I'm sick of the cliffs getting steeper and higher. I hate heights."

RP: "We should have tied our bodies together."

KP: "Why in the world would we do that?"

RP: "Because if I'm going to die I'd prefer that you die too."

Luckily, we both made it -- and brought back some video evidence:

Now, aside from a lost toenail, backpack-indented bruises along my shoulders and hips, and a dozen or so blisters, we're no worse for the wear.

I think RP summed it up best when we finally reached the end of the trail:

RP: "We did it honey!"

KP: "We did!"

RP: "Let's never, ever do that again."

As you wish, RP.