Group Members: Rod Jacobson, Mike Casey, Gary Armstrong, Josh Cook, Liam Myers & Cem Terzi.
Five of us set out for 3 Fingered Jack Saturday Aug 11th, at 6:30am. A cool Saturday morning with a touch of smoke in the air- fortunately, the fires were drifting mostly northward that day. As we began on the PCT at the trail head off Rte 20, I was excited to not only climb a new peak, but also to hike along this portion of the PCT which I have driven by too many times without hiking. The trail is stunning. Settled in the pre-dawn light, I was simultaneously awed by the standing forest of burned hemlock and fir. The trees, stripped of bark and bleached by time & sun, stood intact. Even their smallest branches remained, preserved by the very short duration of the intense blaze that torched the needles from tree to tree then moved on. These marvelous standing snags stood dense within the tall grasses laden with seed, and an assortment of vividly colored wildflowers. The bare trees allowed an unusually greater amount of light, which gave the understory a surrealistic richness in color. By the time we reached the climbers trail, miles had passed, but seemingly no time; as we recounted to each other at journey’s end. We were all so entranced with the slowly changing scenes through which we passed that time simply fell away.
Standing before the skree field, the volcanic skeletal remains of the summit towered above, appearing much greater than the mile or so it would take to get there. Sliding back a half step for every step forward allowed us to realize just how fast these mountains were crumbling. It was with that thought that we reached the summit ridge and looked down over a thousand feet on either side while standing on a deck, which at times, was only a few feet wide. I had to turn slowly so as not to develop vertigo and associated fear from having my surroundings move from several feet to several thousand feet with only a tiny change in gaze. Gravity seemingly increased ten fold, pulled those of us less familiar with standing on cliff’s edge, down to our hands & knees, bringing us closer to the ground- where we belonged. Contradicting feelings arose as we stood on rock which has been in place for thousands of years, yet seemed to be ready to give out from beneath at any second. Large boulders, seemingly secure, would release underfoot, only reinforcing our concerns. Rotten is too nice a term for the rock’s integrity. Deceptive is close. Spooky is better. As the lava cooled way back when, it must have cracked just like a super cold ice cube when warm water is applied. Fissured and cracked all over, the rock was varying degrees of instability. It was more a matter of figuring out which hold was less unstable, and would it hold you. Only too gladly did we allow the trip leader, Rod Jacobson, to lead the first of two sections which required the placement of a fixed line. It was a grossly exposed traverse atop a narrow ledge. It was not a significantly technical section, and Rod completed it effortlessly and relaxed. Not for me. Knowing that any hold could give way at any time, gave a renewed vigor to my sense of self-preservation. I had to use controlled breathing to relax, and silly as it may sound, I imagined myself connected to the mountain herself. This calmed me greatly, allowing me to let go of that sense of fear which gripped me every time I peered down next to me a couple thousand feet. I executed the traverse. The mountain did not give way, and I felt much better & reassured, for the moment…
The climb to the summit required a vertical 30’ belayed climb up what could only be described as very poorly mixed cement which lacked the stuff that holds cement together. Again, it was not technical, but took a while. All of us ascended one decaying hold at a time, saying again to ourselves with every move, “will this hold or will this fail?”
The summit proved worth the effort. Sunny, breezy and slightly cool, the mountain topped vistas dulled slightly by smoke, were no less awesome. Looking down, out and over everything below, as Rod recited the many lakes & surrounding peaks, a wonderful sense of accomplishment and appreciation settled in. Five of us perched on the small landing on top and one napping peacefully a hundred meters below, all got what we came for. A perfect day. Unique and spectacular scenery & vistas. No biting insects. Fun climbing partners and an enjoyable challange.
Three fingered Jack. A climb well worth the effort, never to be forgotten….
Hiking/climbing summary: ~13.5 miles (5.25 to water drop, 5.5 to climbers trail), 3300 vertical feet, 11 hrs.
More pics to follow.