Mt. McLoughlin

Into the Jaws of Death

Solo Climb as a senior in High School on the north face of Mt Mcloughlin 9,495 ft.

Mt. McLoughlin is near Lake 'o the Woods and Fourmile Lake and Fish Lake in Jackson County

One young man's Eigerwand.

After a perilous solo traverse of the north face, I attained the NW ridge, and recorded this inspiring view across the sweep of Mt McLoughlin's little known north face; shown are Fourmile Lake, Upper Klamath Lake, and Yamsay Mountain, 8,196 ft, on the distant eastern skyline. Pelican Butte, 8,000 ft, the proposed site of Oregon's newest ski area, lies just to the left edge of this picture. Mt. McLoughlin is Oregon's most southerly major Cascades volcano, and it was last active during the height of the Roman Empire, thus making its last fires contemporaneous with the flows of McKenzie Pass to the north.

A deadly boulder the size of a Volkswagen came crashing down the dirty rock gut in the center of the picture, just seconds after I had sweated my way across the gut in the broiling sun. It passed within fifty feet of my stunned eyes. I watched it bound down the steep slope for what seemed forever. When the giant finally entered the trees far below, it was just a dot, but it sent trees flying into pieces, soundlessly. Here's some dramatic music to accompany the terror of the climb [3/4/2016-- Sorry, I removed the music because on some browsers/systems it was causing the page to freeze upon trying to load it).

 




Serenity in the Sky.................................................

I'm sitting on the foundations of the old fire lookout station atop Mt. McLoughlin, gazing 75 miles south at Mt. Shasta, 14,162 ft.. I'm dreaming of the life led by the fire lookouts who formerly lived on the summit. Here is the story that I wrote about that morning on the summit, all alone. Psychologist Abraham Maslow would have called it a "Peak Experience" --

DAWNING

He sat alone on the mountain peak, high in the morning sun, his gaze extending for a hundred miles in all directions. He had been there since dawn, in the vast sweep of forests and plains where there was no sign that humankind and its noisy civilizations had ever existed. The small sounds of the mountain responding to the heat of the sun became preternatually clear, subtle creaks and groans, a distant rock breaking its bonds to tumble down a scree slope.
Overhead the impossibly blue sky glowed with an inner light. Two hawks appeared unexpectedly from below, riding the morning thermals. One drifted so close he could hear the sounds of the wind breaking over its body. Then just as suddenly, the wind blew them away over the mountain's shoulder. They were vanished.
Only he remained -- alone and yet strangely joyous, for such was his vast New World, with its long days to be lived far from distractions of home, of parents, spouses, friends, teachers, employers, police. A companion of generations of wild things that would know nothing of the Dominion of Man, the Planet's passing fancy. Years elapsed before he realized what had dawned on him that morning - a larger Life Vision, a reconnection to all things ancient, primordial. Never would he be alone again, for with his realization he had uncovered his hidden truth: alienation, the malaise of modern man, had lost its power over his life.


Story copyrighted Bruce B. Johnson M.A. 2006-2016. Janet K. Hughes, Editor

Click this link to reach pictures of the ruined McLoughlin Fire Lookout and comments on its history

Links to some of my other outdoor adventure stories:

"Mountain Night on the Skyline Trail"

"Old Trail"

"Dark Lake of My Dreams"


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