Three Finger Jack: An Unexpected Ski Circumnav

 The Mountain: Three Finger Jack 7,844', Oregon Cascades

13.1 miles, 3,995' vert

March 8, 2025

Julian tearing up the Southeast Bowl. 

Three Finger Jack occupies a lower niche in the Cascade Crest, along with neighbor and fellow shorty Mt. Washington, compared to her taller siblings Mt. Hood and Mt. Jefferson to the north and the Three Sisters to the south. Erosion has had plenty of time to wear this extinct stratovolcano down, leaving the comparatively solid rock of the central magma plug towering above glacier-carved cirques. While it lacks the 4,000 ft fall-line descents that would make it a premier Oregon objective, it nonetheless provides plenty to explore in terms of ski terrain, as Julian and I would discover one sunny March day. 

February had ended with wet precip and sadness on top of our beautiful powder, but that meant March started out with a lovely corn cycle. That, combined with the rapidly lengthening days, had Julian and I thinking about a long day to check out some new territory. 

Much of the approach visible on the way to the summit pinnacle.

We set of from Santiam Sno-Park, just off the highway, on foot. The other option we'd mulled over was to take a chance with a combo of 4WD and Moonbike on the road to the Jack Lake TH, which is unmaintained but ungated. As much fun as I've had using the motor to access distant touring, there is something refreshing about starting the day under your own power. We worked our way up the long ridge that extends south from Jack to Santiam Pass, roughly following the PCT while skipping switchbacks. When we got near Summit Lake, we traversed right, dodging a few gullies while working our way up. The clear day provided some stellar views south to Washington and the Sisters. 

Upon hitting the ridge we were treated to views of the magnificent Southeast Bowl, which sits at the top of the First Creek drainage. The tough choice was: ripe corn on the east aspect or wind-blown pow on the north? We opted for the pow, and I took position for photos while Julian climbed up to Pt. 6961 to drop in. 

I have to admit that the fresh snow was a bit sparse on top of the crust, but the position made up for it. I followed Julian's line and we rendezvoused at the bottom. The next thing on our minds was the Jack Glacier Cirque and Canyon Creek Bowl to the north, so we started skinning for the notch between the 3JF massif and the 6855 Ridge. 

We dropped into the Jack Glacier Cirque, where there isn't much glacier left. Some flowy turns in a mellow tube down the right side led us down to Canyon Creek Meadows.

Lunch!

Peering at the map as we dined, we realized that from where we were, it wouldn't be much more distance to continue around Jack onto the west side, circumnavigating the mountain, than it would be to retrace our steps back along the east side. In the spirit of "Eh, why not?", we decided to go for it. 

Skinning towards Porcupine Rock.

Despite the mostly solid conditions, we could see the wind transporting snow onto the face of the ridge we were climbing, mostly focused on the southern part of the ridge closer to the summit. In order to avoid any possible wind slabs, we angled further and further right until we popped out on the ridge just north of Porcupine Rock. As we moved back south towards Jack, we were relieved to see that the local herd of mountain goats had already put in the bootpack for us!

Reintroduction of mountain goats in the Mt. Jefferson Wilderness has been a bleating success, despite the questionable winter travel tactics of these furry wonders. They had no fear wandering right up to the lip of the overhanging cornices on the ridge; us humans weren't feeling as bold. The hoofpack continued up the ridge as it climbed to a point at about 7,170' that is separated by a short notch from the main massif; we called this Goat Point. Originally, we had planned to climb up to Goat Point and ski down the west face, but we could see a good deal of wind being blown onto the two sides facing us. That, combined with the steep, rocky terrain that would have made choosing a non-exposed route impossible, convinced us that maybe doing a low, slow traverse would be the best bet. 

The only rock-walking all day, on sub-ridge off of Goat Point. 

We traversed through the triangular northwest and west faces coming of of Goat Point, drooling at the terrain we were seeing. At this point it was getting fairly late in the afternoon, and with sunset scheduled for 6PM we were running too short of time for any extra downhill, much to our regret. Things got real sloppy as we switched to downhill mode to continue our traverse. The sun had been baking the west face of the mountain, with some serious wet-loose slides to prove it. We worked our way out into the middle of the west face and transitioned again, all the time staring up at the West Couloir and a few unnamed chutes that looked mighty tasty. 

In case you are interested in the specific strategy of the deproach: I ripped skins at around the "W" in "Wilderness" on the Forest Service topo and was able to make it back to the car that way. This involved a lot of faff around the Pt. 5862, but once I got into the burned area on the opposite side of the ridge from Booth Lake, it was all smooth sailing. It may be easier to just keep the skins on until this point, if a bit slower. 

We enjoyed the sunset from high up on the ridge, the downside being that we were still a mile or two out once the sun had disappeared. However, there was just enough light to guide us back to the Sno-Park, headlamps still stashed in our bags. 

Even though it may have meant less vert skied overall, I am quite happy that we decided to go for the full loop around Jack. Knowing I have seen all sides of the mountain is a satisfying feeling; even on peaks I have skied many times there is always a face or two that I am frustrated to have not yet laid eyes on. Not to mention, I was able to take a bounty of photos that will prove useful when we come back to tick all those gorgeous lines!