I’m going to hike the John Muir Trail (JMT) in August 2024, heading north from south of Mt. Whitney and finishing in Yosemite Valley.
The trail
I reserved a permit starting from Cottonwood Lakes TH out of Horseshoe Meadows starting August 6, although I am thinking about starting about 40 trail miles south of Horseshoe Meadows in Kennedy Meadows to better acclimate before hitting Mt. Whitney.
About the John Muir Trail
The John Muir Trail is a 210 mile long trail that stretches from the summit of Mt. Whitney in the south to Happy Isles in Yosemite Valley in the north, covering some of the most spectacular parts of the central and southern Sierra Nevada. It follows the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) for most of its length.
Why do it NOBO?
Going NOBO adds some extra miles to the official length of 210 miles, as you need to get to the southern terminus at the top of Mt. Whitney. Starting from Whitney Portal adds about 7 miles and requires a (lottery) permit, as you are vying for one along with all the people whose goal is the summit. Further south, Horseshoe Meadows offers two different trailheads that connect up with the JMT to the west of Mt. Whitney, and both add around 30 miles to get to the summit of Mt. Whitney.
Most people hike it southbound (SOBO), starting in Yosemite and ending at the peak of Whitney. This is easier to acclimate as you don’t hit the highest parts of the trail until the end of the trip, but has a couple disadvantages, in my mind. First, permits are harder to get, with a lottery system in place and a lot of demand. Second, being the more popular option, you are more likely to be in a bubble with other JMT through hikers, and therefore in competition for camping spots and solitude. Third, you hike with your face in the sun (or so they say) when heading SOBO, which is, honestly, probably a little overblown. But fourth, when you complete your hike, you are exiting through the Whitney Zone, a very difficult descent of over 6000 vertical feet from the peak of Mt. Whitney to Whitney Portal.
Going northbound (NOBO), it’s true that you have some of the hardest and highest parts of the trail right away. You typically are hitting 14,505’ Mt. Whitney on the third or fourth day of the hike, and head over 13,200’ Forrester Pass–the highest pass on the JMT and the Pacific Crest Trail–the day after. Many NOBO hikers that haven’t properly acclimated have a difficult time during these first days, particular ones that are on a strict timetable and can’t take the extra time to adjust to the altitude and big food carries.
All that being said, there’s also a lot to recommend about ending the hike in Yosemite Valley, below Nevada Falls and in sight of Half Dome. When I imagine it, I’m meeting up with Katie and Milo and Desi in a truly beautiful place that they can enjoy before I get there. And I’m not beat all to hell by a vicious 6000’ descent….
But more than that, the first part of the hike is going to be me immersing myself “inside the Sierra” as Kim Stanley Robinson refers to it. There’s a lonesome grandeur in the high southern Sierra that I find exhilarating, and that I want to experience more or less by myself before I engage with the other through hikers and friends that I’m going to meet up with along the path. Starting my trip in the south and heading north allows that in ways that I wouldn’t get if my hike started among the crowded trails and campsites in Little Yosemite Valley, below Clouds Rest, and up Lyell Canyon out of Tuolumne Meadows.
Why do it at all?
A fair question, and one I imagine I will think about as I lumber up steep ascent with a full pack. The simple answer is that I’ve wanted to do this trip for a long, long time. In junior high and high school I would look at my dad’s topo maps of the Sierra Nevada and I would see places that I wanted to see for myself, in person.
How long will it take?
Determined 20-somethings can crush this trail in 9 or 10 days. That doesn’t sound appealing, even if I had the energy and body of someone in their 20s. I plan to finish sometime around Labor Day, with enough space in my schedule to not worry too much about delays or food or weather. The point of me taking this time is to take my time.
The hike before the hike
Before I hit the official JMT, I plan on following the PCT from Kennedy Meadows (south) to Horseshoe Meadows, a trip of about 40 miles through the South Sierra Wilderness and Golden Trout Wilderness. Kennedy Meadows is a small town at 6500’ in the Kern Plateau, bordered by the Dome Lands Wilderness to the west, the Sierra Crest and the steep escarpment to the Mojave Desert to the east, bisected by the South Fork Kern River that drains the meadows and canyons leading up to the true High Sierra to the north. PCT hikers know Kennedy Meadows as the end of the “Desert” section and the start of the “Sierras” (I prefer “Sierra”, but whatever).
Starting at a more moderate elevation of 6500’ and climbing up to Horseshoe Meadows will give me a chance to acclimate and smoke test my kit for the rest of the hike, and carry only a few days of food while doing so. It’s also a low-key beautiful section of the Sierra Nevada, with white and pale orange granite slopes dotted with Foxtail pines, and through the meadows and sage patches west of Olancha Peak (12000’, the first real high peak in the southern Sierra) to the banks of the Kern River as it snakes its way south.
After reaching Horseshoe Meadows, I will do a full resupply, and then make my way to Crabtree Meadows just west of Mt. Whitney to start my official JMT hike.
The hikes before the hike before the hike
The best way to prepare for backpacking (aka “extreme walking”) is to…hike. The better your cardio and leg strength is before going on a backpacking trip, the more fun you’ll have. I mean, it’s always hard, but doesn’t need to be an ordeal. My current plan is to do at least two significant hikes a week, with a loaded pack. That plus doing my bike loop in the mornings when taking the boys to school will hopefully get me ready to hit the trail without hurting too much.
My gear
I have been slowly whittling down my baseweight over the last few years, finding the right medium between stupid light (aka “uncomfortable and possible dangerous”) and needlessly heavy (aka “let your anxiety pack FOR you”). My pack, without food or water, weighs in around 12-13 pounds. Tent, quilt, sleeping pad, stove, pans, clothes, water filter, electronics. Add in a full bear canister (required in pretty much all the areas I’m doing through) and a couple liters of water, and I’ll be no more than 25 pounds on my back.
So much of this weight reduction is editing with an eye toward what works, for me and my needs. I’d rather carry a few more grams in exchange for reliability, but only to a point. If you constantly think about the worst case scenario, you will just keep adding unnecessary things to your pack.