Gregory Karl
08-21-2007, 03:13 PM
At 9:15 I followed two local dudes into the snowplow turnaround on Jay Mt. Road in my rusty blue F-150. They eyed me suspiciously as I parked 20 feet away on this perennially deserted road, so I started a conversation about the state land boundaries, which segued to my hiking plans, raspberries and bears. They were seasonal hunters and despite their youth, seemed to have considerable knowledge of these woods. (“Slip!? Whoa, it’s a good thing you’re starting early cause that’s a long walk,” one said.) They wished me luck and safe travel; I thanked them and trudged up the road toward the height of land (2,357ft.), continuing on until I was sure I had left Frenyea Mountain behind me to the W. At this point the stream coming down from between the two ridges to the S had started to parallel the road and I had a clear view SW to Peaked Mountain.
I jumped in heading due N, planning to change to 45deg when I got into the main channel of the drainage. It seems I overshot it, however, and my heading put me too high in the basin. A bumpy traverse got me back on course and I followed the dry streambed up to the saddle between Saddleback and its E shoulder at 3,100ft. Crossing the fern-filled saddle I soon picked up a meandering watercourse running gently down the other side, still at roughly 45deg. It steepened as I descended on faint hunter’s and game paths and by 2,700 feet its broad bed and multitude of mossy boulders hinted that it must be a lovely and impressive brook at high water. This day it was little more than a trickle.
The brook fed into a beaver fen, which looked forlorn under passing skeins of sullen gray clouds. From its still pond a boneyard of dead birch trunks reached skyward, and through them came the first views of Slip. Spotting open ledges on the bottom of its E ridge at 70deg, I set out to flank them to the left, crossing a small dam and ascending a few hundred feet through open forest. Soon I was enjoying the day’s first good vantage point. Ascending the ridge through low shrubs and intermittent tree cover I was soon near the summit (3,331ft.) where things were a bit more tangled. It took a while to locate, but I was soon atop a cluster of boulders with great vistas. A number of high peaks loomed over the local ridges S and W, but the best views were those within the Jay Range itself. Particularly striking was Slip’s own W summit (3,280ft.), whose double-tiered blocks of cliffs arranged at near right angles suggested the ruin of some vast manmade edifice. After a hurried lunch I whacked due W for a closer look. This was the only rough going of the day, but it was relatively short.
Approaching from behind and reaching the higher tier first, I walked the ledges of the W summit carefully, for these were the most dangerous kind of cliffs: those whose walking surface was a down-turning curve; where one slip could lead to a slow but irreversible slide and plummet. There were beautiful and impressive formations on both tiers and I was sorry to have to leave, but those guys were right: it was a long walk. I found one steep passage down through the cliffs on the SE side of the edifice and soon turned due S back to the fen. From there I just reversed the original up and over Saddleback’s shoulder. Through some fluke I emerged exactly where I had jumped in and then finished with an easy mile walk back to the truck.
This was among the most enjoyable bushwhacks I have done and I hope to return to Slip again in the future.
I jumped in heading due N, planning to change to 45deg when I got into the main channel of the drainage. It seems I overshot it, however, and my heading put me too high in the basin. A bumpy traverse got me back on course and I followed the dry streambed up to the saddle between Saddleback and its E shoulder at 3,100ft. Crossing the fern-filled saddle I soon picked up a meandering watercourse running gently down the other side, still at roughly 45deg. It steepened as I descended on faint hunter’s and game paths and by 2,700 feet its broad bed and multitude of mossy boulders hinted that it must be a lovely and impressive brook at high water. This day it was little more than a trickle.
The brook fed into a beaver fen, which looked forlorn under passing skeins of sullen gray clouds. From its still pond a boneyard of dead birch trunks reached skyward, and through them came the first views of Slip. Spotting open ledges on the bottom of its E ridge at 70deg, I set out to flank them to the left, crossing a small dam and ascending a few hundred feet through open forest. Soon I was enjoying the day’s first good vantage point. Ascending the ridge through low shrubs and intermittent tree cover I was soon near the summit (3,331ft.) where things were a bit more tangled. It took a while to locate, but I was soon atop a cluster of boulders with great vistas. A number of high peaks loomed over the local ridges S and W, but the best views were those within the Jay Range itself. Particularly striking was Slip’s own W summit (3,280ft.), whose double-tiered blocks of cliffs arranged at near right angles suggested the ruin of some vast manmade edifice. After a hurried lunch I whacked due W for a closer look. This was the only rough going of the day, but it was relatively short.
Approaching from behind and reaching the higher tier first, I walked the ledges of the W summit carefully, for these were the most dangerous kind of cliffs: those whose walking surface was a down-turning curve; where one slip could lead to a slow but irreversible slide and plummet. There were beautiful and impressive formations on both tiers and I was sorry to have to leave, but those guys were right: it was a long walk. I found one steep passage down through the cliffs on the SE side of the edifice and soon turned due S back to the fen. From there I just reversed the original up and over Saddleback’s shoulder. Through some fluke I emerged exactly where I had jumped in and then finished with an easy mile walk back to the truck.
This was among the most enjoyable bushwhacks I have done and I hope to return to Slip again in the future.