Three Fingered Jack backpack, Sept. 2021
Posted: September 12th, 2021, 2:13 pm
It’s been 30 years since I last visited the Canyon Creek Meadows near Three Fingered Jack. I remember being quite impressed with the area, so a return trip has been on my list for quite a long time. It also happens to be one of the few places on that list that hasn’t burned in the last 20 years, so it sort of moved to the top of the list by default. And so my dog Kola and I set off from the Jack Lake trailhead on Sunday morning, September 5th. I had secured overnight permits for 4 nights, but had no set plans on exactly where I’d go in this area or if I would even stay out that long.
Kola soon found a stick to play with in Canyon Creek…
Before long we arrived in the lower meadows and got a first good look at a very smoky 3FJ…
‘Well, this sucks’, I thought to myself. All I could do is hope the smoke might clear a bit in the coming days.
The National Weather Service was forecasting a good chance of thunderstorms by Tuesday, so I made camp in a sheltered spot at the edge of one of the lower meadows. I remembered the upper meadow being more scenic, but reasoned it would also be more exposed to bad weather. So the lower meadows became base camp for now.
We saw very few people on day one. In fact I think we saw more deer than people. That was surprising considering this was a holiday weekend. The new permit system seems to be unnecessarily restrictive in my humble opinion. But I digress.
That first night was breezy but not too cold. Happily by the next morning most of the smoke had cleared…
After breakfast we headed out to explore the upper meadow area…
It turns out there’s several trails in this area, but I just followed my nose and soon enough we had scrambled up to a viewpoint above the small, unnamed lake at the very base of 3FJ…
Looking north toward the upper meadow below us with Mt. Jefferson in the distance…
We scrambled down from our high perch and found a boot path to the upper meadow. Way too late for the flower show unfortunately, but the meadow was spectacular nonetheless…
We wandered out into the meadow looking for a nice spot to have lunch. As we hiked along I looked up at one point and saw a large white shape on the hillside at the north edge of the meadow.
Mountain goat!!
He (she?) was just munching on grass, enjoying lunch on a perfectly nice day. It seemed relatively unconcerned about our presence, so we quietly inched closer, eventually getting within about 75 feet…
At one point the goat shook itself vigorously, probably to chase off flies. What I noticed though was the big cloud of dust that was launched into the breeze…
After a few minutes the goat seemed to tire of us and ambled away up the hill.
I’d seen mountain goats several times before, but only in Washington state. This is the only goat I’ve ever seen in the Oregon Cascades. It was an awesome treat and a major highlight of the trip.
That evening three deer wandered right through our camp as though we weren’t even there. They came within about 25 feet of us & looked right at us. I yelled out ‘hello’, but they just ignored me. Later something very big went crashing through the woods right behind our tent. Probably just another deer, but it gave us both a good startle. After that the night was calm & very quiet.
Tuesday dawned smoky but clearer than day one. I decided to return to the upper meadow to see if I could get more photos of the goat.
We spent a couple hours in the meadow, watching and waiting. Lunch was eaten. A nice nap was had. Many chipmunks and butterflies were seen or heard. But alas our goat friend did not show.
While loitering here though I noticed some interesting layers of color in 3FJ’s north face…
Back at camp I checked my little radio for an updated weather forecast. The thunderstorms that had been predicted earlier never came to pass, and the forecast for the coming days was for smoky but otherwise good weather. It was mid afternoon. Rather than stay another day I decided to break camp and move over to Wasco Lake.
It’s true that Canyon Creek Meadows hadn’t burned in recent years, but it is a small island of green forest that had somehow been spared by the huge B&B fire that ravaged this entire area nearly 20 years ago. Young trees are now pushing their way up through the dense underbrush and jackstrawed deadfall, but it will be many years still before this area returns to something resembling its former grand self.
Typical scene along the way to Wasco Lake…
Amongst the all the grey snags were a surprising number of live trees that had somehow survived the inferno…
Approaching Wasco Lake in the smoky late afternoon…
At the north end of the lake is a large grove of trees that had been spared by the blaze. We found a number of good campsites here, none of which were occupied. I picked a spot, made camp and settled in. Around sunset I was making dinner when two young gals arrived. We said our hellos and then they made their way to one of the neighboring campsites. Kola and I finished dinner then bundled up in the tent. It was another quiet evening with little wind.
Wednesday dawned cool and remarkably clear. The lake was simply gorgeous…
I could see Black Butte off in the distance…
After breakfast we headed out for a day hike on the nearby PCT.
A quick climb brought us to an intersection at Minto Pass where we turned south on the big trail…
While taking a break along the PCT the two gals that had camped near us the night before caught up to us. We chatted for a bit. They were from the coast and were circumnavigating 3FJ in just two days starting from Santiam Pass, with another 12 or 13 miles still ahead of them here on day two. I wished them well as they continued their trip.
It wasn’t long before Mt. Jeff made an appearance…
The ghosts of forests past…
This is the most hiking I think I’ve ever done through a burn area. It’s sad in a way, but there is an eerie beauty to be found here as well. That was a pleasant surprise for me.
As we hiked south our views of 3FJ improved…
A look down at the upper meadow where we had seen the goat two days earlier…
Eventually we reach the pass on the PCT near Porcupine Rock at 6500 feet where we get a nice view to the west…
That mesa looking hill in the distance is Coffin Mountain, where there is still a staffed fire lookout tower. It’s actually more of a long ridge at the summit than a table top, but from this angle it sure looks out of place here in the Cascades.
Heading back…
Wasco Lake and 3FJ from the PCT…
Back down at Wasco Lake…
That night as darkness fell, I was getting the tent organized for sleeping when I heard the most blood curdling sound I have ever heard in the woods. It was a very loud crashing sound, followed maybe by a bit of a splash. It was like nothing I had heard before. If I were in the city I would have assumed it was a car crash several blocks away. All I can think of is that it must have been a tree falling, maybe landing partially in the lake. It did not sound like an animal, or a rock slide. What’s weird though is there was not a breath of wind that evening. It was the proverbial “you could hear a pin drop” kind of summer evening. So why a tree would drop at that particular moment is a mystery to me. But then you have to figure there are dozens of dead snags around that lake, and all of them have to fall sooner or later. That thought kept me awake for quite a while that night.
Thursday morning came and thankfully we hadn’t been killed by a tree. We had breakfast, broke camp and somewhat reluctantly headed back to the so-called civilized world.
A look back at smoky 3FJ as Kola goes for a final swim in Jack Lake…
Great trip!
~Gordon