A couple weeks back I was lucky to spend a weekend in an 80-year-old summer cabin at the base of Mt. Whitney, the highest mountain peak in the lower 48 states. Two friends of mine, Darrell and Alexandria were set to be my cabin mates. We had no intentions of cresting the 14,505 foot high peak -- we just wanted to get away and relax in an amazing setting.
But how do I get there? Should I take my 2003 Subaru Outback Sport or the Land Cruiser? The Soob would get us there quicker, be more comfortable and be cheaper due lower fuel consumption. But the LC has a tailgate, better visibility and is way more capable off-road. It came down to this: I imagined if "the truck" found out that I went up to Whitney without it. It would be confused, disappointed and possibly angry. No need for bad FJ60 karma -- truck wins.
The trip up took longer than usual due to a mudslide that closed one of the roads in both directions. We were stuck in Pearsonville for two hours, but I didn't really mind. I was having fun. We sat on the tailgate (ding!), shared a king-size bag of corn nuts and swapped stories. Eventually we made it, but the accent was steep.
By the time we got to the cabin at 7,800 feet, the truck was gutless. I've got a dash-mounted vacuum gauge that's tapped into the intake manifold, and it usually reads 20 in/hg at idle in the Los Angeles lowlands. Up there at the cabin, 13 in/hg at idle was the norm. The air gets thin up there, and no matter what kind of activities we would end up doing, we were going to feel it.
The next morning we hiked up the trail to Lone Pine Lake, huffing and puffing the whole way. Upon arrival swimming, a picnic, photos, and general lounging ensued.
On the last day of our trip we went down to Lone Pine to stock up on supplies, and visit the Lone Pine Film History Museum. I had driven past it countless times, but never was able to stop. The collection features one of Nudie's Cadillacs and artifacts from the almost 100 years that the surrounding area had been used as a film location. Thousands of Westerns, sci-fi flicks, and most recently Iron Man, all called the Alabama Hills home.
With a map and guidebook in hand we explored the surrounding area in the FJ60. Darrel and Alexandria had never really wheeled before, so we were able to get some lessons in. They both had a blast groaning through the rocky stuff in low range, even with me yelling "No brake, no clutch! -- I see your foot!"
John Adolph, Senior Video Specialist
By subytrojan
on September 15, 2010
07:18 PM
"It came down to this: I imagined if "the truck" found out that I went up to Whitney without it. It would be confused, disappointed and possibly angry. No need for bad FJ60 karma -- truck wins."
Funny!!! Thanks, John!
By dougnewcomb
on September 16, 2010
02:52 PM
Love the lake pic. Is that you swan-diving off the cliffs to the left?