John Muir Trail Day 1: Insane Thru-Hiking Jitters and First Steps in the Sierras
Popping open the passenger front door of the car, I turned to the kind lady who shuttled us up to the Cottonwood Lakes trailhead and the start of our northbound thru-hike on the John Muir Trail. I gave her what I thought was a beaming, optimistic smile. I realized a bit too late that it must’ve looked rabidly deranged when I caught her suspicious squint before she quickly looked away.
Those Pre-Hike Jitters
Excitement warred with fear across my face. I could feel the stress spasms drunkenly dance to my twitching eye. A tick in my cheek kicked off to join the party. I fought my mouth, attempting to make the fight-or-flight snarl smooth out into a more reassuring smile. Remember, I sing-songed kindergarten-teacher style to my brain, you get to do this because you wanted to do this! Suffering can be Type 1 fun! These 250 miles can be life changing so FIX YOUR FACE.
(Want to see the people, places and all-around mayhem mentioned in this post? Here’s the Instagram Reel I might regret posting…)
“Thank you!” I said to the driver, as I tried to convey that I was not a hostage and had even willingly signed on for this adventure.
I took a deep breath to calm my pre-hike jitters and swung my legs out of the car to take my first step and let myself be flooded with wonder. I marveled at mentally crossing off the last item on my nine month long to-do list: Begin hike (…and for God’s sake don’t forget your gear in the trunk of your ride.)
Last Minute Details
I scrambled to quit romanticizing the moment so the poor lady could go. Soon, she and our last chance of escape were both gone. I staggered under the weight of my backpack to look at my chosen hiking partner and husband, Cliff, and thanked all that was good that the temperature wasn’t as blazingly hot at 10,000-ish feet elevation as it had been in Lone Pine, CA. I turned to find my husband silently closing and locking the nearby bear locker. The metal doors had been flapping in the wind as they comedically stood open, despite all the warning signs about food safety and bears in the area.
We took advantage of the vault toilets and noticed the potable water spigot. We filled our bottles, leisurely drinking one almost empty before filling again. We headed towards the trail and I yelled, “WAIT!” We could not start this epic journey without memorializing the moment…no way.
Those First Steps
My stoic husband, all too familiar with my love for photography, posed with me for an awkward picture before we finally, finally took our first steps onto the…well, not technically the John Muir Trail yet but actually 23.2 miles south before we would even touch the legendary trail. It didn’t matter to either one of us since we both agreed we would take whatever permit would allow us to get to do this dream thru-hike.
As we started out along the Cottonwood Lakes Trail, my nerves finally settled into absolute giddiness. We traded stories we’d both told each other so many times before about how our previous jobs would’ve never let us take this kind of time off even if we had accrued the vacation and holiday hours to do so. We had five weeks to wander and we planned on cruising along at a pace that would prioritize fun (the true Type 1), as opposed to death marching a 35-day sufferfest of wrecked bodies, trashed minds and a fresh divorce at the finish line.
We ambled through a sparse landscape of evergreen trees on a trail that was blessedly easy on the feet and wide enough that we walked hand in hand next to each other, finally feeling at ease. The elevation gain was so gradual that my worries about coming from our home in the Seattle, Wasington area at 108 feet (that’s not a typo, folks) and training to only 8,000 feet, at the most, slipped from my mind.
Exploring Around Cottonwood Lakes
Our mileage goal for the day was a mere 5.4 miles to the Cottonwood Lake #1 area, one of the few campsite options available in the drop down box in our online Inyo National Forest JMT permits. We were feeling so good that we wished we could have pushed on but chose instead to enjoy being in the Sierra Nevadas for the first time.
Before exploring the area around us, we clumsily set up camp, reminding ourselves that a quicker routine would soon establish itself through repetition. Our campsite was 10 feet from a gorgeously gnarled dead tree, so full of twisted, wind-carved character resembling that of an art installation. I could barely take my eyes off of it as we quickly gathered up all the scented items out of our backpacks that could be considered an attractant for bears and placed everything in our bear can. My husband hurriedly hiked it up a nearby hillside to tuck it between the crooks of a fallen dead tree and off we went to check out our surroundings and find a flowing water source.
We were ecstatic to find marmots all over the Cottonwood Lakes area. Having first been exposed to these chonky characters in Rocky Mountain and Glacier National Parks, we sat and watched the local marmots rule over their territory with lazy regard. The presence of hikers seemed to not worry them enough to stop foraging and sound off, fire alarm style, for the entire mountain range to hear.
The backdrop to Cottonwood Lake #1 was a photographer’s dream and my attention drifted to the blocky construction of white rock with dramatic black cracks. I wished for the first of many countless times that I had brought my digital camera (a Sony Alpha 7 IV) as opposed to just my iPhone 15 Pro Max for this adventure but was sadly grateful to not be carrying the extra weight of the camera body and multiple lenses.
Dinner and a Briefing
After filtering water from a nearby stream, we meandered back to our camp to cook dinner. Our camp stove heated water in under a minute and by a max of five minutes, we were tucking into an appetizer of soy and scallion noodles and a main course of cajun pasta.
As we ate, our conversation turned into a briefing of sorts for what the next day held. We would be hiking up our first mountain pass the next morning and we talked about elevation gain and the miles it would take to get to the pass before heading down the other side. We discussed the minimum mileage we hoped to achieve for the day and set a goal for the campsite we wanted to reach the next night. By the end of our meal, we had a plan and I was mentally prepared: my main ingredient to conquering a physical goal.
Sleepless in the Sierra
We cleaned our dishes as the sun started to set and noticed the temperature was dropping rapidly. For every degree of warmth we lost, the wind began to increase from a cool breeze to violent gusts. And that perfect dead tree I had admired just hours before? It became one of the main characters of the night along with our tent flapping a dramatic, ominous soundtrack as I prayed the crescendo would not be punctuated with the art installation falling just so…right on top of our tent with us inside it.
Good thing I wouldn’t miss a moment of that drama since there was zero sleep to be had. But, hey, who wants a good physical challenge of our first mountain pass of our thru-hike the next morning without the added benefit of no sleep?
Stats for us hiker nerds:
JMT Day 1 – August 17, 2024
Cottonwood Lakes Trailhead to Cottonwood Lake #1
Mountain Pass/Summit: None
Elevation Gain: 921’
Mileage: 5.4
Want to see the people, places and all-around mayhem mentioned in this post? Head on over to my Instagram account HERE .
This website contains affiliate links, which means The Trek may receive a percentage of any product or service you purchase using the links in the articles or advertisements. The buyer pays the same price as they would otherwise, and your purchase helps to support The Trek's ongoing goal to serve you quality backpacking advice and information. Thanks for your support!
To learn more, please visit the About This Site page.