I was able to cross Three Fingers Mountain off my to-do list a few years back, before a slide closed the Forest Service Road 81/2 miles from the trailhead. (Now it requires an uphill mountain bike ride before you even start hiking). For me, the hike was more or less an anniversary gift from my wife. Weather and opportunity seemed to align on our anniversary, September 4th, and luckily, she was okay with me spending the day in the woods. Three Fingers is a sublime mountain with glaciers and prominence visible from Snohomish County. In fact, I can see it from my house where it stands north of Mt. Pilchuck like an old loggers salute.
Pilchuck is a great hike with a big pay-off for relatively little effort and time invested. I've hiked to the top of Pilchuck one time in 90 minutes when I had an afternoon soccer game to coach. Round trip for Pilchuck is under six miles with generally good trails except for a couple boulder fields. It has an elevation gain of 2200 ft. The summit is at 5324 ft. It offers great views and an historic look out up a rock scrabble and a ladder without too much exposure. That being said, when my friend, Arie and I climbed it in one July, a woman in the party behind us was having nothing to do with the ladder. Tragically, fatalities occur as inexperienced hikers wander off the trail or take undo risks along the exposed, east side of the ridge.
Three Fingers is another thing entirely. It is one of most difficult hikes you can find in the region. The round trip is a little over 15 miles with most of it on bad trail. The summit is listed at 6854 ft. Forty feet were dynamited off the top to make way for a fire look out in the 30s. Total elevation gain is 4200 ft. Unfortunately, along the way, you have to regain altitude several times due to a number of ups and downs. In the second half to the hike, you encounter snow and ice. Depending upon the season, crampons and ropes may be necessary. On Saturday I hiked, the snow was soft enough, so I only needed my trusty ice ax.
I was supposed to hike Three Fingers with some folks from my church hiking club. They were going to make it a two night affair, camping at Goat Flats on Saturday, summiting on Sunday, and coming back on the third day. With the freezing level forecast to drop on Sunday, they cancelled, figuring hard snow would require crampons and ropes, adding more hassle than they wanted for a Labor Day weekend outing. Given the beauty of Goat Flats, turning the hike into an over-nighter actually is a great idea.
I was really disappointed by the cancelation as this mountain has been on my list since my wife and I moved our family to Snohomish. I told her a lot of people do it as a long day hike (though they are probably most aren't in their 50s). I decided I would go up to Goat Flats, check conditions and time, and decide whether or not to keep going up. If I decided to try to go up, I would fall in behind another group and follow them up.
I left our house after 8 AM. I had planned at leaving at 7 but the weather in Snohomish was misty, and I couldn't see the mountains. I vacillated, but decided I could at least drive out to the trail head, and hike to Saddle Lake 2.5 miles in. What I didn't fully comprehend was the drive to trail head involved 18 miles on Forest Service roads. Hence, I got to the trailhead after nine. However, this might have a good thing since getting out of a truck at the same time was another guy about my age with the same plan.
Ken from Port Orchard is a Civil Engineer with the State department of Transportation. He is working on a list of prominence peaks, trying to hike/climb the most prominent peaks in our 39 counties. Prominence is a measure from the summit of a mountain to its saddle. Three Fingers makes the list for Snohomish county. It turns out Mt. Si and Mt. Pilchuck really don't rate because their neighbors overshadow them. As a humanities guy, I like hiking Si, Pilchuck, mountain lakes, water falls--I am all about the beauty. Regardless, Ken and I made a pretty good hiking team for the day. He's part Welsh and reminds me a little of Allan my brother-in-law for his capacity to tell a good story. I also appreciated the fact that he enjoys history. We covered Chief Joseph's retreat and discussed General Mc Clellan's time in the Pacific Northwest.
We hiked to the 2.5 miles to Saddle Lake fairly quickly though the trail is horrible. It is roots and rocks through salmon berries and Salomon Seal overgrowth. Right before we got to the lake, we passed a big group of perhaps 12 hikers. They were telling stories in Korean and laughing, and seemed to keep up the good spirits for the entire day. We stopped at Saddle Lake for water, a snack and a picture of the lake, they passed us, and then on the way up to Goat Flats (another 3 miles) we passed them again. By the way, Saddle Lake is lovely, but it has really no camp sites around it. It's better to continue onto to Goat Flats.
Goat Flats is a beautiful alpine plateau of blue berries and meadows with wild flowers. It is a worthy destination. It has great vistas of the Three Fingers, neighboring peaks and their valleys below. It was a good place to eat lunch. Here we decided to keep going, but established 4 PM as our turn around time. Meanwhile, the intrepid Koreans came marching on.
Above the Flats is the next turn around point is Tin Can Gap. The trail to the Gap is generally better than the trail into the Flats though you pick up some serious elevation, cross a couple of small snow fields and some areas of scree where the trail is little more than a trace on a fairly steep ridge side.
Above the Flats is the next turn around point is Tin Can Gap. The trail to the Gap is generally better than the trail into the Flats though you pick up some serious elevation, cross a couple of small snow fields and some areas of scree where the trail is little more than a trace on a fairly steep ridge side.
The top of the ridge is Tin Can Gap. The other side is the Queest Alb glacier basin. It was still cloudy and cool, so we didn't have a view to the top. Our progress was good, but frankly, the snow looked a little worse than I expected. As Ken and I discussed a possible route towards an invisible summit, along came the Korean contingency. We decided to follow a short trail along the ridge that avoided the step exposure of the snow field, but we had our ice axes out at the ready.
We found the ridge line trail behind some stunted spruce and followed it to where it intersected with the upper part of the snow field. Just as we started on upper half of the snow field, three hikers came from the other direction. This section of the snow is still steep, but the snow was soft and the path well trod. None of the approaching hikers had an ice ax. One was in trail running shoes. Of course, the day before had been really warm and two of the three had spent the night in the look out. The third guy had just started from the trail head at 7 AM, climbed to the lookout was hiking back with his friends. Now that's some fast hiking! Personally, I think crossing a snow field or a glacier without an ice ax is like walking a tight rope without a safety net.
A few hundred yards across the snow, you come out on the ridge line trail again. After a quarter mile, the trail leads to the moat above the glacier. This is a challenging scramble down another quarter mile. The elevation loss becomes disheartening on the way back when you have to scramble up the moat. I left my gloves at home, so I avoided the rough industrial rope the Mountaineer Club placed in the moat as an aid. Instead, I used my ice ax and free hand for balance. Note-to-self: Next time, don't forget your gloves!
After the glacier moat, a cairn or two leads to more decent trail that carries you to the large snow field below the summit block. The sun came out briefly, so we donned our sunglasses across the snow. Ken and I zigged up the snow field though younger hikers leaned in and kick step straight up to the base of the summit block. This is where you begin a fairly hairy rock scramble. As we stashed our ice axes in the rocks, we could see at the base of the snow field five Koreans continuing on, four men and a woman, still talking and laughing. Apparently, and somewhat ironically, they were following us up the mountain.
The dramatic exposure here causes some folks to freak out. If you gaze over the edge of the ridge, you'll note it is perhaps a thousand feet to the valley floor below. At the end to the scramble, three ladders are bolted into the face of the rock. It seems as if you are hanging in space as you climb them, but the ladders are made of sturdy, marine-treated lumber, and I figured a small ledge thirty feet below might catch a person before they slipped into oblivion. Of course, thirty feet is enough distance for gravity to build up enough force to kill you, but it's comforting to think you might survive with only a broken leg or two.
The transition between ladders is interesting. Ladder #1 and 2 join at a narrow gap in the rocks that requires a twist and a shimmy to get through. On the way back, I actually took my pack off to fit through. From ladder #2 and #3, a step onto a exposed rock is a bit of a thrill. I wouldn't like to do it on an icy day.
Once you get to the top of the third ladder, it's a somewhat steep rhombus side to the flat base of the look out. The look out was built in 1933. They dynamited off the top of the mountain to make room. It comes complete with an ancient forest service chair, wood bed, bookshelf, and lighting stool. Apparently, the stool provides insulation in an electrical storm. I can only imagine the sheer terror of balancing on a wooden stool while lighting explodes around you.
In order to touch the actual high point of Three Fingers, you need to crawl out a window onto the "back porch." I can't imagine it was easily provisioned in the era before helicopters. No wonder it was closed in the early 40s.
When Ken and I arrived a little after three, a couple in their 40s were making house, and settling down for the evening. We made our way to the back porch. The sky opened up, off and on, revealing then veiling sublime vistas. As we ate the rest of our lunch, our five Korean friends came up the ladders. One required some assistance, and this played a factor in delaying our turn around at 4 PM. It seems like the Koreans wanted just a photo op and then turned back down. Unfortunately, the one who struggled on the way up was more reluctant backing down the ladder. Ken and I chatted with the couple, signed the log book, and waited for the ladders to clear. By the way, the nice couple were not destined to have the lookout to themselves. A couple of twenty-something dudes in sleeveless shirts were heading up with a pack of beer and Doritos as we were heading towards to glacier moat after 5.
It was probably 4:30 by the time Ken and I were on the ladders going down. Of course, the snow field descent was more direct, but our climb out was slow because Ken's legs were cramping. He graciously told me to hike on if I wanted, but I had enjoyed his company, and figured following his 4 X 4 equip with its backroads lightbar down the Forest Service roads in the dark might be a good idea.
On the way down, the Koreans seem to pick up steam. The rest of their party had stayed behind at Goat Flats and made a welcoming camp for them. We saw them ahead of us twice. Once as we were entering the glacier moat, and again, just after dropping below Tin Can Gap, they were climbing over the next ridge to descend into the Flats.
If I were to do it again, I would make camp at the Flats on the way up and hike down to it after summiting that afternoon like our Korean friends had done. It's beautiful place to spend the night. Ken and I had miles to go before we would sleep, and the trail after the Flats grows progressively worse. It was bad earlier in the morning light with fresh legs. Imagine it in the dark.
We made Saddle Lake by 7:30 PM, just about sunset. This meant the last 2 1/2 miles out would be by headlamp. Definitely a miserable hour of tripping over roots and rocks with old growth firs shielding any slight after-glow of a cloudy dusk. My eyes were fixed on the trail a few feet beyond my feet almost trance-like. Every now and then I would look back and have to wait a moment before Ken's light to emerge in the gloom.
I would recommend a headlamp plus a flash light if you try to do this hike in September in one day. An overnight at Goat Flats would have been ideal. Eventually, we popped out onto the Forest Service Road. The moonless sky was crowned with stars invisible only a few yards back in the woods. A dry shirt, socks and shoes were waiting for me in my car. It is amazing how luxurious dry clothes feels after a day of hiking. We pulled the covers off the running lights of Ken's truck, and I followed him down the logging road. It took the better part of an hour to get to the Mountain Loop Highway. I was home about 10:45, apparently, so tired that I left my car door open. My wife brought in my pack and shut the car door for me.
All in all, it was a great day in the woods-- hiking, scrambling on rocks, climbing snow, ice and ladders through meadows, glaciers, among peaks and precipices. Ken and I both keep lists. We were able to cross this one off of it.
