Three Fingers

[mattp]

October 13-14, 2001

On this poor weather weekend, Matt Heller and I climbed Three Fingers and spent the night in the lookout up on top. We never did see anything, except for a brief hour on Sunday morning when we were just at the top of the cloud layer and could see Mount Rainier to the south.

Our original fantasy was to traverse from Three Fingers to Whitehorse, so we first drove up to Darrington and parked a car at the Lone Tree Pass trailhead. Despite an early start in Seattle, this meant that we didn't actually leave the Goat Flat trailhead until 10:00 a.m.. The lower portion of the trail, a muddy mess of running water and slippery roots in addition to the MUD, went fairly well. At a bog about two miles up the trail, however, we lost the trail. "I know where to go," said Matt, "follow me." So I did. Soon we found ourselves in another bog, with no sign of the trail anywhere near. So I took over. "I know how to read a map," I said, "and I have a compass and altimeter. Follow me." And so he did. But I went west when I thought I was going east and we climbed up a ridge and then descended again to end up right back where we started, at the first of the two bogs.

Once finally back on the trail, we continued up into the snow (slush), found Goat Flat in the fog, and continued on through snow and fog to the notch that Beckey says is misidentified as Tin Pan Gap. By this time, we had decided to simply climb Three Fingers and forget about the traverse to Whitehorse. With some difficulty due to the lack of visibility and the fact that we neither had a route description nor had either of us been there before, we found our way onto the upper part of the mountain and, just as it was getting dark, we agreed to head up a slope that appeared to be leading toward the highest terrain though we really couldn't see enough to be very sure.

The lights were starting to go out on us and I figured we were screwed. We had sleeping bags and a Megamid, so we weren't going to die, but the wind was blowing and there was no flat place nearby. We were both wet. So it wasn't going to be all that nice of an evening. I climbed up a pinnacle of rime ice and looked around to the right for the ladders that we had heard were on the "back side." No ladders over there, but it sure did feel as if it was a long way down. Then I called to Matt -- "shall I look around some more? We can set up the Megamid in the dark so I might as well look around some more." No answer, so I front-pointed across the slope and looked around to the left. Hallelujah! Just a short rime ice traverse away, a series of ice encrusted ladders led to the lookout. We arrived in complete darkness, beat the ice off the door with the shaft of the ice axe, and figured out how to crawl inside. Epic over, instead of epic just beginning.

[Matt]

Three Fingers, South Peak

October 14, 2001

It was 6:35 p.m. and getting darker by the minute. We had been wandering around the summit of Three Fingers for the last two hours in whiteout conditions trying to find the fire lookout (circa 1931) on top, but the fresh snow had covered any trace of the trail. Rock faces kept appearing and disappearing in the mist and I couldn’t tell which finger was the South peak. "What do you want to do?" Matt shouted at me.

I wanted to rest, but instead I pointed up the slope with my ice axe. It all came down to this: if we found the lookout we would enjoy a warm dry evening on top of a Cascade peak, if not, an epic was about to begin. My legs were cramping and my hands were getting cold. I didn’t want to stop to get out my mittens and headlamp for fear that by the time I did it would be completely dark and impossible to find the cabin perched somewhere high above us. We kept going.

Even though Matt is probably 25 years older than me he has legs of steel and quickly hiked up above me. He shouted, "I see the ladder!" then followed with, "No, it’s not it." I contemplated just staying where I was. I knew if we didn’t find the ladder in the next ten minutes or so we’d be camping out in this shit. I didn’t want to spend the energy hiking up when we’d be turning around looking for a place to bivy down below in a few minutes. The ice was sticking to my hood and stinging my eyes whenever I looked up. I focused on my feet, counted out twenty steps and took a breath. Matt disappeared around a corner.

"I found it!" I heard him shout. The slope’s angle increased and I stepped carefully. I could feel the rock underneath my crampons and the tip of my axe bounced off as I tried to find a secure hold. Eventually I made it up and peered around the corner. The mist was thick and I could only see about 30 feet in front of me. There it was! The ladder was in several dilapidated old pieces and covered in about 4 inches of ice! At first I thought the cabin was closed and they had taken down the ladder for the season. Then it dawned on me, Matt had already climbed the pieces of the ladder and was on top.

Coming around the corner meant stepping onto a steep slope that crowned a 450 foot rock face. I could see the slope for about ten feet below and then it just disappeared into nothing. I tried to drive the shaft of my ice axe into the snow, but it only went in a few inches. I hammered the pick into the rime ice on the rock and kicked my feet into Matt’s footsteps. Below me bits of snow floated into the abyss. I could hear Matt above me banging on the door of the lookout. He was trying to open it, he shouted out, but it was covered in 4 inches of ice, just like everything else around here. We’d be covered in ice if he didn’t get that door open.

I finished the traverse to the base of the ladder and my right hand was freezing. I was gripped and the sling around my wrist was cutting off the circulation. I tore off my glove, unzipped my jacket and stuffed my numb fingers into my armpit. Slowly the feeling came back. I looked down and my ice axe was just sitting there in the snow. I picked it up and put my left hand through the webbing. I tapped my feet together—they were growing numb too, put my gloves back on and started climbing. The ladder was easily 5.6. Smooth and icy, each rung sucked the feeling out of my hands. I got to the top of on ladder and had to mantle up on a block. The rock narrowed and I pulled to squeeze my pack though the slot. Bang, bang, Matt continued to hammer at the door. Bang, bang. Just a few more moves…

Then suddenly it was all over. I crawled to the top of the last ladder, stood up and stumbled in through the door. It was pitch dark and I fumbled to get my headlamp out of the top of my pack. We lit some candles and closed the door on the elements. There was a chair, a table, an old newspaper. A huge smile grew on my face. Soon the stove was roaring and hot spicy ramen was on the way. At only 6,854 feet, Three Fingers was fun and interesting climb.

Beta the Guidebooks Don’t Have But You Want to Know

 

* The approach is from Forest Road 41 via the Goat Flats trailhead. The road has been regraded and is smooth enough for regular cars to drive. 4WD and high clearance are not necessary, you can get your Honda Civic to the trailhead w/o a worry. This is easily a 2 hour drive from the Seattle area. Expect about 20 miles on the dirt road.

* The trail from the road to Goat Flats is very bad in places, especially when it is raining as the trail becomes a creek. Expect mud, big puddles, roots, lots of up and down.

* We observed two parties that appeared to contain (1) an ambitious boyfriend and (2) an unhappy girlfriend. If you like your girlfriend and the forecast is for rain, don’t take her on this hike. On the other hand, if you don’t like your girlfriend and you want to break up, you should strongly consider this as a day hike.

* Encountered cold wet conditions. For this time of year I might recommend plastic mountaineering boots and/or a few extra pairs of socks. Snow from Goat Flats on. My feet were cold.

* From Tin Pan Gap to the top the route finding was interesting/mildly difficult. A GPS might have been useful, though not necessary. Map and compass are necessary. Encountered minor rock fall and ice melt off while traversing under cliffs.

* This hike can be done in a day by those in good physical condition.

* Useful climbing gear: ice axe, crampons, stiff mountaineering boots.

* Useful info: it appears they don’t lock the fire lookout so there’s no need for a key or reservations. If you go up late in the season you’re likely to have it all to yourself. This is a great place to spend the night! Be sure to get there before dark.

* Try and scope out the fire lookout’s location from Tin Pan Gap where the trail meets the Three Fingers Glacier.

* From the South peak’s perennial triangular snowfield on the south face you cannot see the ladder or the lookout, built in 1931. When in doubt, continue up the slope as high as you can go and look around to the left hand side. It’s there, you just have to have faith.

[This message has been edited by Matt (edited 10-19-2001).]

[Lambone]

nice.....

 

[This message has been edited by lambone (edited 10-18-2001).]

[nolanr]

You wouldn't believe how many gumbies run around up there on the permanent snow field during the summer w/ tennis shoes and no ice axe. I can't remember hearing of an accident or death up there, but probably someday it'll happen. Too bad you had crap for weather, it's a cool place. No ice on the ladder when I went.

[jobe]

Yeah, there are definitely plenty of idiots running all over that mountain. I climbed it in August and we had to cross a few snowpatches that were hard as a rock. Fortunately, we had brought out crampons along and were able to continue. I think we were the only ones who made it up that day. It can be easily done in a day as long as you're in decent shape. Vertical is only 4000, it's just a slog - 18 miles or so.