John Muir Trail Day 1: A Perfectly Chill Start

JMT Day 1 — 8/4/24
Mono Pass Trailhead to Parker Pond
Beginning to Hot And Cold Camp
JMT miles: 6.62 JMT total: 6.62
Elevation change: 1,558ft gain, 479ft loss

The poofy clouds glowed like the pinkest cotton candy above the shadowed peaks on the distant desert horizon. Familiar peaks, that I hadn’t expected to see from the High Sierra interior. Familiar peaks that filled me with a sense of familiarity and comfort — home. Headlights twinkled below these silhouettes, streaking on Highway 395, just north of June Lake, where my parents and I had spent last night in a warm campground surrounded by sage, humongous pine cones, and happy campers. Usually when I could see the outer world from the mountains — a peak, a saddle, or a strange edge of geology as it was this evening — I’d feel a little homesick. Usually, the hiking ahead scared me just enough so that I would be tempted by the safe comfort of the world below. The same one that I had been so excited to leave not long before. Usually, it was so far away and out of reach, like a plane streaking contrails across the clear blue sky on its way to a paradise like Hawaii, that all I could do was notice my longing and wonder about its origins. Was I scared that my body would fail or that my planning was wrong? Did the mountains, my great love, really scare me or did I just shiver with excitement? I never knew.

But this time felt different. There was no longing in my gut, no white sand fantasy tempting me to pack it up and disappear to Bali. This time, I felt perfectly content, and exactly where I wanted to be. I could only partially guess why. This 20-day trip SOBO along the JMT with my mom was shaping up to be a cruise. A dream several years in the making come true. The pace was moderate and the route was both well-traveled and well known. It was 100% highlight reel through my favorite mountains. However, there were and are a few major differences that were probably worth worrying about. This was my mom’s first major thru-hike, and though she could walk with the best of them, there were probably a lot of small challenges to anticipate. There was also my biggest question mark: how would I handle hiking 12 miles a day? A moderate pace was always something that I craved when thru-hiking, and now that I was going to get it, would the downtime drive me crazy?

Well, so far so good. Day 1 was only 6 miles and some change, but it was awesome. Meandering through the cool morning among some seriously gigantic trees was delightful. The wide trunks made the tiny meadows look smaller. The large floral aroma made the flowers look more colorful. We plodded along, taking our time in the thin air, constantly up towards Parker Pass. Although we were essentially hiking the JMT, permit wrangling meant that we were starting miles from the official trail in a quiet corner of Yosemite. This was exciting for me because the first two days of hiking would be across completely new terrain. It was exciting for my mom because it was the stage of her first backpacking trip 37 years prior. I’d heard the stories, and it would be cool to see it for myself.

The climb up to Parker was gradual and delightful with a light breeze. Although I now live above 7,000ft in Colorado, I could feel the obvious shortness in my lungs, like I was occasionally forgetting to breathe. However, even coming from sea level, my mom was doing great so I didn’t complain.

Fresh and ready to finally get started on the JMT.

Easy cruising on that smooth Yosemite trail.

Classic Yosemite.

We shared our hopes and fears for this trip during our first break, which dragged for an hour because there was no reason to rush. That was nice. We sat for exactly as long as we wanted to. Pretty much, we both really wanted to reach Whitney. The empowerment for my mom that would come with that was what I was most excited about, and I wanted it badly. Second, I was stoked to spend as long as possible hiking, swimming, relaxing, and living in the mountains. That would be cool. I didn’t know how much relaxing and swimming we would actually accomplish, but the extended trip would give me a good shot at finding my most peaceful vibe. Life is busy, and peace is always something to strive for. 200 miles of hiking without seeing a road was my catalyst.

We stopped again for lunch at treeline in a coveted patch of shade, and I wished that I knew what kind of trees these were. The sharp cliffs of the Kuna Crest amazed with their dazzling bright granite. I convinced myself that I could make out Sky Pilot Col, which had so thoroughly freaked out Spice and me on day 2 of the Sierra High Route in 2021. Another dream trip. That one had definitely made me nervous and wish for a safe beach far from the uncertainty of success or failure.

The higher we get, the bigger the meadows and views become.

Sky Pilot Col?

On final approach to Parker Pass. This is nice, right?

We shared a few snack items (the new vegan pepperoni jerky was not a hit) and let the conversation flow. Our relationship wasn’t new, so the same dynamic we’d shared my entire adult life continued its familiar pattern. We’d even been backpacking before several times, so there was nothing new this time. At least for me. She was still under the impression that this thru-hike and ‘thru-hiking’ in general was different from normal backpacking. Maybe it was, but for me, there was no distinction anymore. This was just longer, and therefore better in every way. The hard work of mailing ourselves resupply packages was long over, and now we were just starting to cash in on our efforts.

Wildflowers. Not something I hoped to smell or see in August.

Wildflowers. Not something I hoped to smell or see in August. The short remaining distance to the pass flew by. A wide alpine meadow gradually rose to a wide saddle with cliffs on either side. The space and air were as breathtaking as the altitude. Wide, vast, and quiet. Down the other side was more of the same plus silty runoff and ponds where pooled the blood of an invisible glacier high above. The life, the energy, this is what I was here for. 

Parker Pass, Yosemite’s back door.

One pass down. How many more to go?

Hmmmm, is that the trail to Koip Peak Pass to the left of the snow?

Glacier blood.

Feeling a little bit dizzy at 11,000ft, we found our campsite and pitched the tent on a patch of warm gravel. It was only 4pm, but that didn’t bother me one bit. Now there was plenty of time to poop, swim, and stare at the intimidating climb that awaited us in the morning.

Yep, those are switchbacks on the left slope. Time to trust the trail builders.

Switchbacks were nearly invisible on the formidable brown shoulder of Parker Peak, but we needed to believe that they were there. Tomorrow we would find out, but this evening their existence was fiction and it was good enough for me.

Warm gravel camping is pretty sweet.

Luxurious lounging filled me with joy. The run-down, ache-filled thru-hiker within was pleased, giving me hope that I was still capable of chilling out while the sun still burned above. It was imperative that I nurture that part of myself, and for at least one day, I was pulling it off.

Why doesn’t this view make me homesick tonight?

The mountains eventually cast their bluish shadows across the Owens Valley far below. The clouds turned pink and the headlights streaked. My belly was full of ramen and spanish rice. I was content. After sharing a pot of ginger tea, it was time to sleep. I’d need to get used to a lot of sleep too. It was only 8:30pm and there was no rush to get started in the morning. In fact, the opposite was true. Oh boy, was that a pang of anxiety?

This post was originally published on my blog hikefordays.com. Check it out for trip reports from my other hikes including the AT, CDT, and Sierra High Route.