I was on the trail by 4:30 this morning;
Swiss Army was still sleeping soundly and I tried not to disturb him as I
packed my pack and tiptoed out of camp. It was only a few miles to the
dominant feature of today’s hike – Three Fingered Jack, an ancient volcano that
has been notably scarred by numerous glaciers attacking it from all sides.
All that remained of the volcano were the basalt plugs that filled the
throat of the volcano and then cooled. Glacial erosion had eventually
stripped away the softer material of the mountain, leaving only the harder
basalt plugs exposed, which were also being weathered away by storms and
gravity.
Signs along the trail informed me that I had
left the Mount Washington Wilderness and had entered the Mount Jefferson
Wilderness. At certain vantage points along the trail, I have been able
to catch views of Mount Jefferson, first sighted in 1806 by Lewis and Clark as
they were exploring the lower Willamette River. They named it after their
president, Thomas Jefferson.
After twenty-four miles of pleasant hiking,
having passed Rockpile Mountain, South and North Cinder Peak, and Cathedral
Rocks, I stopped for the night at Shale Lake, which had several nice camping
sites; also, I needed to refill all of my water bottles.
As I’m preparing my campsite, another hiker came
in, who went by the name of Boomer. I had seen him briefly at the Big
Lake Youth Camp. He camped just above me on a higher ledge, and by the
time he finished his dinner preparations, I was already in my sleeping bag.
My dinner was quick and simple – dehydrated Idahoan Instant Potatoes,
some cookies, and dried fruit. Just before dozing off, Swiss Army came
into camp and settled next to me. Lt. Dan passed by in the dark and
Cookie was camped a few miles away.
As long as I could walk twenty-plus miles a day,
I could stay with the little bubble of hikers I was currently hiking with.
Occasionally, really fast hikers would burst through the bubble and speed
on, never to be seen again, but for the most part on a day-to-day basis, I
recognized most of the hikers I met on the trail. We tended to leapfrog
each other as we move forward.
Yesterday, just before starting the trail
alongside Cathedral Rocks, an alternate trail – the Oregon Skyline Trail,
veered off to the left and climbed a high ridge above Hunts Cove. This
skyline trail paralleled the PCT for five and a half miles and eventually
rejoined the PCT just before Milk Creek. Hikers who desired a
less-traveled trail and wanted a different perspective on Mount Jefferson might
consider hiking this alternate trail.
Ten miles after leaving my campsite at Shale
Lake, the trail began a gradual descent towards Russell Creek. I could
hear the roar of the water long before I broke out of the forest and began the
descent.
The water cascading down the steep gorge was snowmelt from the
glaciers high up on Mount Jefferson. Russell Creek can be crossed;
everyone does it, but it's nerve-racking.
Because it’s glacial water, it looks like
flowing milk obscuring the creek bed. It runs fast and deep and a slip on
the rocks could mean a one-way ticket down the steep gorge. I walked up
and down the dirt embankment looking for just the right set of rocks on which
to cross over. I didn’t mind getting my feet wet, but I was concerned
about stepping in a deep hole between rocks and chance losing my balance and
falling into the swift-moving current that dropped precipitously down the
gorge, just feet from where I was trying to cross.
For me, on this long journey, having hiked
through the Sierras, with its jaw-dropping beauty, having hiked the circuitous
route around Mount Shasta, Castle Crags, Crater Lake, and the Three Sisters -
Mount Jefferson was the standout for beauty and ruggedness. The mountain
is massive and at least five glaciers still cling to its slopes; at 10,497 feet
it tends to generate its own weather. But it was not just the mountain
itself that captivated me; it was also the parklands at the base of the
mountain that are intriguing and inviting; they beckon to the stranger to come
stay awhile, to relax and soak up the beauty, rather than hurrying on.
It was a shame to have to pass through this
wilderness so speedily, as though miles were the only thing that counted.
The mountain and the parklands seemed special and deserving of more than
just a cursory visit.
Passing the Jefferson Park meadowlands, the
trail pushed up to a saddle on Park Butte. As I approached the ridgeline, I
encountered four day hikers who had been camping at one of the nearby lakes.
I greeted them and then stopped long enough to use their cameras to take
a group picture.
There was a snowfield on the other side of the
ridge that obscured the trail. Once the snowfield petered out, the trail
would be visible again, but for the moment, there was no clear path from the
top to the bottom of the snowfield. As I looked at the tracks in the snow
of hikers who had gone before, it looked like it was every man for himself.
I started to follow a set of tracks, but ended up in a jumble of rocks
and then had to bushwhack through the snow and broken rock to where I could
connect with the trail.
Looking back up the snowfield, I could see the
four day hikers starting their descent. As I watched, I could see they
weren’t having any better luck than I had in sticking to the official trail, as
they glissaded on their rear ends to the bottom of the snowfield.
A half hour later, I stopped for lunch on a
grassy bench adjacent to the trail. I took my shoes and socks off to
allow my feet to air out, then spread my lunch items on a white trash compactor
bag that served as my tablecloth. Before long, the four hikers – two
couples, passed by and stopped to visit. They said they were through with
their hike and were heading for their vehicles parked at a trailhead next to
Breitenbush Lake, just a short distance away. They offered me their
leftover food, which I gladly accepted. I scored big on this one, for
they gave me hard salami, Swiss cheese, Toblerone chocolate, and trail bars,
all very desirable trail food.
Mount Jefferson, the jewel of Oregon's Peaks.
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