Jack McGrogan, who grew up in Butler’s Institute Hill neighborhood, has a philosophy of life now that he’ll be 70 in a few years.

“In our golden years, the highs might not be as high and the lows may not be as low, but you’ve got to be careful not to flatline,” he said.

Also a believer that the food delivery, electric bicycles, self-parking cars and other conveniences of everyday life are making Americans soft, McGrogan decided to do something most would never dream of attempting: climb the highest mountain in the contiguous United States.

“I think God made us to do hard things,” he said.

Now a longtime resident of Santa Cruz, Calif., and a retired Silicon Valley tech exec, McGrogan listed four main reasons to take on the daunting peak of Mount Whitney in California’s Sierra Nevada, which sneers at underprepared climbers from 14,505 feet in elevation.

One was personal achievement.

“Making it to the top can be a significant personal accomplishment, representing a physical and mental challenge,” McGrogan said.

Physical fitness was another reason to tackle Whitney, and no goal is quite as motivating as scaling the Lower 48’s highest peak.

The breathtaking landscapes offered at various heights on Mount Whitney allowed McGrogan to connect deeply with nature as well.

“Hiking to the summit allows one to immerse themselves in the beauty of the natural environment and experience a sense of awe and serenity,” he said.

McGrogan’s final motivation to climb Mount Whitney was the need to focus his attention on the task and slow down his thoughts and processes.

“My family, friends and the nuns from St. Paul’s will tell you that I have a relatively short attention span,” he said. “Backpacking requires that you slow down and focus on the task at hand, while being off the grid for a number of days.

“Methodically packing the pack, building camp and preparing a meal provide opportunities to be totally aware of your environment, and in tune with your environment,” McGrogan said.

McGrogan made the climb with his friend, Tony Morales, with whom he has completed annual, multiday backpacking trips in the Sierra Nevada for a decade.

“Tony is the perfect hiking buddy, as he’s scaled the face of Half Dome as well as hiked Mount Kilimanjaro in Africa,” McGrogan said.

He called Morales a quiet, calm and competent companion on the trail.

The pair’s first order of business was to acquire permits to climb Mount Whitney, which McGrogan said are meant to manage the number of hikers on the mountain in the interest of protecting its fragile ecosystems.

“Permits are required year-round, and the demand often exceeds availability,” McGrogan said.

He applied for his permit in January 2023 via a lottery system, and was notified in March that he was approved to climb Whitney in September.

“I received this news with a little trepidation,” McGrogan said. “I thought ‘Oh well, I guess I’m committed now.’”

The confirmation of a permit to climb Whitney initiated a five-month personal fitness challenge for McGrogan that would ensure he was strong enough and possessed the stamina to scale the mountain.

He said 30% of those who attempt to climb to Whitney’s peak fail, and four hikers have died so far this year attempting to reach the top.

McGrogan did hot yoga followed by a swim in the cold Pacific Ocean, long mountain bike rides with the Santa Cruz County Cycling Club, afternoon hikes with a 50-pound rucksack and “a lot of squats and dead lifts.”

“But there’s no way to prepare for altitude when you live at sea level,” he said. “Altitude sickness is the second most common cause for people to abandon their quest, next to weather.”

Altitude sickness symptoms include a severe headache, nausea and disorientation, so McGrogan and his wife, Lesley, visited Lake Tahoe in August to determine how he would do there at 10,000 feet.

“It might have generated a few oxygen-carrying extra red blood cells to help prepare,” he said.

Confident he would survive the altitude on the way up the mountain, McGrogan prepared his gear and equipment for the once-in-a-lifetime climb.

The most important equipment McGrogan invested in were a “bear barrel,” or locking plastic bucket for food that is bear resistant; crampons, or traction spikes that attach to a climber’s boots for climbing in ice and snow; an ice ax; and trekking poles.

He also made sure he had layered clothing, safety essentials, headlamp, whistle, sun protection items and a multitool for the climb.

Regarding food, McGrogan focused on nutritious, yet easy-to-consume meals and snacks.

Despite the improved quality of freeze-dried food, McGrogan and Morales opted for “real food” despite the extra weight it would add to their packs.

They prepared a breakfast, lunch and dinner for each day, bagged and divided the meals between them, and stuffed their bear barrels.

“Typical meals include granola or oatmeal for breakfast, salami, cheese and crackers for lunch, and top ramen with tuna for dinner,” McGrogan said. “We made sure we had lots of high-protein bars and electrolyte gummies on hand throughout the day.”

On Sunday, Sept. 4, the climbers loaded up the aging van Morales uses in his plumbing business and rattled across California to the Eastern Sierras.

At the trailhead where they spent their first night, the men made sure every scrap of food was out of the van and in the bear boxes.

“With their acute sense of smell, bears have been known to break windshields or pull doors off of cars for a tube of toothpaste or a bag of peanuts,” McGrogan said.

The pair hit the trail at 7 a.m. the next morning, and McGrogan soon realized the 9 pounds of water he carried was needless, as lush greenery and streams full of water that could be filtered were everywhere.

“I was feeling it,” he said of his 55-pound backpack.

They made it to an outpost camp 5 miles and 10,000 feet in elevation up the mountain in warm weather.

“The poles provide three points of contact, making creek crossings and rocky steps much more navigable,” McGrogan said of the walking aids.

The friends enjoyed a spaghetti dinner at the camp, which they had reached through slow, methodical progress.

“I set my tent by a waterfall, and, while relaxing, it was actually quite loud,” McGrogan said. “The stars came out and the half-moon shone so brightly you could read a book by it.”

After a decent night’s sleep, the pair embarked on a journey to a trail camp at 12,000 feet.

The temperature dropped and the wind picked up as they ascended above the tree line.

The men stopped to talk to the few hikers they encountered on the trail, many of whom hailed from faraway countries.

“People willingly shared tips on where the trail got sketchy or other obstacles were encountered,” McGrogan said.

After five hours, they reached their second “camp,” which McGrogan described as a “barren, high-altitude rock slab with boulders strewn about.”

Because of the exclusively rocky terrain, their tents had to be anchored in the high winds with rocks instead of stakes.

“The views were spectacular with the mountain towering above us as the sun set and the stars came out,” McGrogan said.

With a wind chill below 30 degrees, the climbers put on every item of clothing they brought, but still shivered.

They hunkered down behind a large boulder to eat, using their bear barrels for seating.

“The combination of the high altitude, wind, a nosebleed and anticipation of tomorrow’s climb made for a very restless night,” McGrogan noted.

The water for coffee at 4 a.m. took its time coming to a boil in the altitude, but the sun slowly reddened the sky for “summit day” on the fourth day of the climb.

“We could see the headlamps of hikers making their way up the mountainside in the dawn’s light,” McGrogan said. “Knowing it was going to be a grueling day, I had beef stroganoff for breakfast.”

While traversing the infamous “99 switchbacks” after leaving camp, the pair deployed their crampons at the narrow, rocky, ice-covered area known as “the cables.”

“The wind was gusty, and my heart was racing,” McGrogan said. “I began to wonder about what other terrifying sections lie ahead.”

As the duo reached the end of the 99 switchbacks, where a handful of unprepared hikers sat sickened by the thin air, McGrogan and Morales headed for the halfway point: the junction of Pacific Crest Trail, John Muir Trail and Mount Whitney Trail.

“I caught a glimpse of the stone hut at the pinnacle of Mount Whitney,” McGrogan said. “Close, but yet, so far away.”

When the tired, yet exhilarated pair began their last 500 yards to the top, they discovered that a heavy snowfall had obliterated the trail and climbers were forced to scramble up the rocky mountainside instead of trying to navigate the deep snow.

Having cleared that obstacle safely, real excitement set in as the men drew closer and closer to the summit.

“Words fail to describe the exhilaration of approaching the top, with the stone hut getting closer and closer, and the views more grand,” McGrogan said.

His arrival at the top of the highest peak in the contiguous United States, after all the planning and preparing, was a spiritual moment.

“When you’re on top of the mountain, and you look over at the magnificent vistas below and the billions of stars above, one cannot help but be moved by God’s handiwork,” McGrogan said. “It reminds us that we are very temporary caretakers of this beautiful Earth.”

He said longtime friends and Butler residents, Mark and Rhonda Coyle, prayed for McGrogan during his climb.

“I could feel the power of their prayers every step of the way,” he said.

Having reached the summit of Mount Whitney and accomplished what many would never dream of doing, the men made their way back down with lighter hearts.

“The long return trip to camp provided more exhilarating views and challenges, but the steps seemed easier and backpacks lighter as the sun set on a spectacular day,” McGrogan said.

He invites others who have conquered Mount Whitney or similar climbs to email him at jack.mcgrogan@gmail.com.