Scaling ‘Baby Thumb’ no task for the timid

I’ve heard it called a number of names — the Palmer Matterhorn, Elf Hat, Devil’s Thumb, Baby Horn — all referring to that spire of a crag that juts up off the long ridge to the right of Matanuska Peak. While I have no idea what it is actually called, it’s a feature that’s hard to miss from Palmer, and its sheer drop and rocky face have always captured my imagination. Fortunately, it captured my brother Paul’s as well, and over the last few years he made a quest out of seeking its summit. I was fortunate enough to join him when he finally cracked the peak’s code.

On the trip up, we somehow arrived at the ridiculous amalgam “Baby Thumb” as the peak’s working name, as if an absurd label might make the crag a bit more approachable. We had begun at the McRoberts Creek Trail at the end of Smith Road and made our way through the long valley to the base of Matanuska Peak. From this angle, Baby Thumb looked to be a sheer pyramid of rock, sitting amidst a daunting ridge. In a previous attempt, Paul had tried to traverse the ridge from the west side, only to be cliffed out before reaching the crag. We decided on a different approach, heading to the right of Matanuska Peak and skirting the ridge around the back until we hopefully reached Baby Thumb.

We picked what looked to be the easiest path up to the ridge and carefully pushed through the deep scree for the better part of an hour before cresting the top. Just about anywhere you climb in the Chugach Mountains the views are phenomenal, and looking east from the top of the ridge was nothing short of breathtaking. Although the clouds were hanging a bit low to see some of the more massive peaks of the eastern Chugach, patches of white snow, green tundra and grey rock framed a perfectly turquoise lake far below. This is Alaska at its best — true wilderness as far as the eye can see, all a relatively short drive and hike from home.

We made our way along the ridge, dropping over the backside when the cliffs took control. The traveling was for the most part straightforward, only hindered by the loose rock of the ubiquitous scree fields and the intermittent clouds that rolled through. My shoes proved a relentless magnet for small, sharp rocks and I cursed the fact that I had once again not purchased some light hiking gators.

The ridge narrowed and through a sharp saddle we were able to look across at Matanuska Peak and the mighty fall to the valley below. Of all the endearing qualities I could have inherited from my mother, I managed to grab hold of her fear of heights and at times like this, my ankles and feet ache — warning me of the brutally obvious danger at my feet.

As we neared our objective, the clouds became thick and the ridge bifurcated; one path maintained its grade and looked wide and enticing, the other cut steeply upwards and out of sight. We opted for the latter and picked our way up through the crumbly rock. Soon, we had convinced ourselves that we had somehow missed our target; we had undershot or overshot along the ridge and the impenetrable clouds refused to reveal any clues. As we spoke, fearing that this would be another fruitless attempt, the mist evaporated and just above us lay a mighty plank of granite that could be nothing except Baby Thumb. We carefully made our way up the ramp of a summit and peered over the edge.

Ever since I was a child and noticed the sheer flanks of Baby Thumb rising above Palmer, I wondered if its rockiness and severity were a trick of perspective – was it really as sheer as it looked? Could it be? I can now say unequivocally that one side of it is indeed a mighty cliff. Clamped to the summit with sweaty fingers and shaking Elvis legs, I attempted to take a picture of my brother and myself. In its blurry, foggy pixels, the image reveals the terror of an acrophobe in a place where he really, really doesn’t want to be, and my brother looking calm…and sort of happy. We had finally reached the summit of a lingering problem that taunted me daily from above, and there was nothing that I wanted to do except get down.