I wanna go hiking

Marching orders

The grey blanket of clouds rolled in from Mexico early Sunday morning while I slept. I awoke to Michigan in late springtime. 60's and overcast, ceiling of 5000 feet. Sabkha wanted to "go for a walk with leash", and I wanted to get out too. For some reason cleaning the house felt more appealing, and I temporarily fell victim to "I-don't-want-to-go-osis". This is a strange disease, because I spend most of the work week daydreaming about smooth granite and soaring saguaros, and wind whistling through the pines, snowflakes falling, and scaling redrock. But when the weekend comes I get housebound paralysis. A million little naggy excuses bubble up in my mind: it's a pain to bring Sab, she might get hurt. It's such a long drive. I don't know where to go, there are so many options. Finally around 4 PM I scooped up the Camelback and Sab's leash and we went out the door. Destination: either Soldier Canyon, at the first curve on the Catalina Highway (aka Hairpin) or Molino Canyon, my old standby. I vetoed Solider Cyn because of the heinous bouldering. The sky was darkening and it was sprinkling rain. Time was ticking. I saw Soldier Trail on the left and I did a U-turn.

In all my years of driving up Mt Lemmon I've never tried Soldier Canyon. It always looked boring and desertish. When you live down in the desert you want to get up into the forests. So I've never stopped here, only 500 vertical feet above Tucson, where summer temps still reach the lower 100s. Sab and I bounded up the trail and I was pleasantly surprised. After getting out of view of the road the trail follows a delightful (if small) canyon with nice outcroppings of mylonites on both sides. A little over a mile brought us to some views down into the upper part of Solider Canyon, where it splits (and Rivendale climbing area is found in the left split). From the trail down into Solider Canyon was a significant drop. Here is Sabkha peeking over the cliff, trying to think of some good reason to take a flying leap. Perhaps a squirrel in the bottom of the wash, 250 feet below?

We kept on the trail which begins to follow Soldier Canyon. Cutting back left we got a close-up look at some of the smoothed-out hollows and pools dropping down into the lower canyon. It looks difficult, although I think moderate climbers/canyoneers could get up from below. It was tough to spot how one would get down from above, as it usually is. Darkness was upon us so we high-tailed it back down the trail, running most sections. Much of the trail is smooth enough for careful downhill jogging, especially in the upper sections. Who knew Soldier Trail would be such a gem? I look forward to going farther up the trail next time.

Dry Canyon: low levels of water and enjoyment

There are so many wonderful places in the world to visit. And so little time to visit them all. That's why it's nice to know there is one place you can cross off your list: Dry Canyon in the Whetstone Mountains near Benson, AZ. Sabkha and I took a little Sunday afternoon jaunt out there today. We bypassed Kartchner Caverns State Park and French Joe Canyon, both right off AZ-90. I've been to French Joe a few times with Physical Geology field trips. It's a nice canyon with mature trees and often has flowing water. It must be the highlight of the eastern Whetstones. Pass French Joe and keep going about 3 miles. You'll see the impressive Paleozoic limestone cliffs to the west, and you can think of Rich Thompson, who found his dinosaur (Sonorasaurus) right on the other side of the crest. The main prominent cliff-rimmed quasi-butte is called "The Cape". Pass all this by and take a right on the next gravelly road that heads up toward Dry Canyon. At first the view is disappointing. Prepare yourself for more of the same. The hills are low and desert-covered. Nasty pokey vegetation promulgates across the land. Sure, it looks soft and fluffy from a few miles away -- but up close it's all catclaw and shindaggers and rattlesnake fangs.

The road did offer some entertainment. Overall I'd rate it a "Class 3", with much of it drivable in a passenger car (Class 2), but some washed-out sections where most cars would turn back unless you're the type to beat up on your vehicle because you hate it, or because it's a rental. One wash in particular caused me to scrape my rear bumper coming and going ('04 Subaru Forester). Also there are some pokey rocks. High- or medium-clearance recommended. Up the road a ways, perhaps 3-4 miles up from AZ-90, a view opens up to the right of limestone cliffs, with the beds dipping 25-30 degrees to the west. Sab and I went for a short stroll in the desert, which was rather hot and unpleasant. My climbing partner Mike has mentioned a limestone climbing area called "The Dry" that I think must be farther up the canyon to the right (Dry Canyon proper). We hopped back in the car and drove through Rain Pass and up 83. All the scenery we could see when we weren't blinded by the almost-setting sun was washed out by its blasting rays. Still, it was nice to get out of town. And to cross one more place off the list. No need to return to Dry Canyon.

I'm back

When my contract with Pair ran out, I took down sabkha.com and my two blogs, Encounters with Stupidity and this one. I'm trying to finish my graduate degree something before next May, and I thought I didn't need the distraction. But when searching Google recently for some info on hikes and climbs in S. Arizona, I kept getting Sabkha.com as the top results. Also, I miss writing up my adventures. So back I am, on blogspot now. Hopefully readers can find me. Eventually Google will pick this up. Until I get some new posts up here from recent adventures -- such as Molino and Soldier Canyons, and a snowy trip to the White Mountains, AZ -- check out this awesome site: Todd's Hiking. His "trips" section covers several fun excursions to S. Utah, doing technical canyoneering. I wanna go! Also, he's done something I've long wanted to do: rent a boat and cruise around Lake Powell, hitting side canyons and doing day hikes / backpacking from the boat. I wish Sabkha was into technical climbing... I think they have dog harnesses for that... but it's nasty and unethical to bring dogs into most slot canyons. So, loyal readers (whoever you are), s'more adventures will be back up here soon. Also, I'm probably moving soon away from the lovely land of southern Arizona to either: a) Houston, to work for a Big Oil Company, or b) Nevada, to work for a Big Mining Company. A distant c) is South Africa. In any case, I guess I'll have to change this blog to Here and There in [fill in the blank]. South Africa would be the most entertaining, Houston the most lucrative, and Nevada the most in-between.

Molino Canyon

Several people have asked me recently about hiking trails near Tucson. So I wrote up a little guidelet and sent it to them. Much of the hiking here seems obvious and straightforward, but that’s because I know most of the trails. For a newcomer approaching a range for the first time, it’s hard to know what to do, or what is worth doing. When I’m traveling I often feel overwhelmed by a new area. The current Tucson hiking guides are ok. Last time I looked them over was a year or so ago at a local bookstore. I browsed through the section. Two things I definitely didn’t notice were an off trail hiking guide and a dog hiking guide. Of course, in the latter case, Arizona appears to have a statewide dog leash law, which means hiking with a dog pretty much sucks anywhere. But I think there is big potential for the first idea: an off-trail guide, or “adventure guide” to southern Arizona. Since I often hike “with dog”, I like to go to unpopular areas where no one will be bothered by my dog. I like desolate hikes anyway, which is why Samaniego Ridge and Red Ridge are some of my favorites. Recently I’ve discovered some great canyon hikes in the lower Catalinas. Check out my new online guide to “Off-trail hiking in the Santa Catalina Mountains, Arizona”. The guide will grow as I discover new favorite places and as time permits. After December 2006 or May 2007 (when I finish my PhD), the guide may grow much more and may even become a book. Ahhh, canyoneering everyday… sounds good to me.

In other news, days are getting long enough in Tucson to do evening hikes. Today I worked until 5:00 PM, drove home and picked up Sab, threw some water into a pack and drove out to Molino Basin. In light traffic the drive takes less than 30 minutes. On the way out the low-angle light of the sinking sun brought out the horizontal relief of the Catalina’s front range. Normally the south-facing range is so blasted with desert light that one can’t see any horizontal relief. Anyway, the ridge was popping out like mad as I drove up the approach to the Catalina Highway. After parking at Molino, we high-tailed it up-canyon, past the “falls”, past the side canyon to the left, past “House Rock” and into the Zone of the Large Boulders. It was great fun and we made good time rock-hopping and keeping our movements dynamic. As we reached Creepy Rock Garden (which must be bypassed to the left unless you and your dog have some bouldering skills), the few clouds above turned pink and we turned around. Down was almost slower than up. I felt the eyes of mountain lions upon my back. Driving back down the mountain was a joy. Almost zero traffic. Do you use your brakes coming down Mt Lemmon? You don’t need to. Going between 3^rd and 4^th gears (with an automatic), I easily make it down all the way without exceeding ~40 mph. I touched my brakes once. It wasn’t even a challenge. A few years ago in Rocky Mt NP, with friend Steve’s 4Runner, we went from a high parking lot about 15 miles (?) to a campsite without touching brakes OR gas. That was fun. I’m not saying drive dangerous, just control your speed in advance of corners by downshifting, and perhaps braking slightly before the corner. We made it home around 7:45, making it 2.25 hours door to door for a ~3.5 mile hike in an awesome, deserted, and fairly remote canyon. Tucson does have some perks!

Valley to Summit: A Mount Lemmon Odyssey

Yesterday I finally completed one of my "epic" dream hikes: from the valley (Oro Valley, in this case) to the summit of Mount Lemmon, the highest peak near Tucson (~9200 feet [2850 m]). My alarm clock went off at 6 a.m., way too early. I picked up friend Hinako and her friends Javier and Paulina (from Japan, Spain and Mexico, respectively). We drove up to Catalina State Park and paid our $10 for an "overnight" parking pass. From the trailhead (2700' [823 m]) we could see our destination: the pine-shrouded top of Mt. Lemmon, 6500 feet [2000 m] overhead. The morning was chilly and overcast; we all donned our jackets and gloves, if we had them. A quick map stop oriented us all to the lay of the land and the route of the hike ahead. We then marched toward the mountain across the coarse alluvial gravels along the north side of Pusch Ridge. Saguaro stands defined our first biozone: Sonoran desert. Along the trail we also spotted a white-tailed rabbit (aka hop-hop) and a few insects. After a mile on the gravel we abruptly came to pink granitic rock outcrops, and the trail began to climb. Here the trail is often directly on rock, rough and steep in places. Suddenly everyone felt very warm and we stopped to remove our excess clothing. The trail reaches a crude saddle point then descends into Romero Canyon proper. Depending on which map/sign you believe, Romero Pools are 2.2 or 2.8 miles from the parking lot. The pools used to be very deep in places, but were filled in by debris flows caused by a torrential rainfall event in the area about 3 years ago, shortly after the Bullock (summer 2002) or Aspen (summer 2003) fire. (My friend Dave Maher tells me of jumping off high rocks into some of the pools - thus they were 20+ feet deep.) Despite the very dry current conditions in southern Arizona, Romero Creek was running very slightly and nourishing a nice green slime colony. A few larger pools sit downstream from where the trail crosses the canyon. Here we paused for a brief rest and snack, admiring the polished shapes of the canyon rocks. Moving on we had a brief respite from climbing as we crossed a flat "meadow" area traversed by Romero Creek. A few small waterfalls (with trickles of water!) provided some variation in the scenery. Soon the trail turned up again as we climbed into the upper reaches of Romero Canyon, toward Romero Pass. The trail left the canyon bottom and hugged the left (North) wall. To the south the looming canyon wall is made up of a few huge planar surfaces, giving the canyon a "hewn" appearance, as if it had been made by the hands of men. Looking down on Romero Creek we could see that the canyon narrows and winds upstream almost to the point of being a slot canyon. A good destination for another day. Also, high on the canyon walls were a few benches large enough to support an acre or so of forest. I imagined climbing up there and making a little shelter and living there, a hermit on a perch with a nice vista of Oro Valley. The trail became steeper and less well marked, in places covered with brush and fallen branches, apparently due to the fire(s) in this area (how do fires produce so much unburned brush? I suppose during the fire, it was living material. The tree was killed by the fire, then the branches dried out and became tinder. Javier (biologist) expects another fire soon.) The saddle was visible above us as we climbed the last calf-burning half mile. As we crested the saddle we were greeted with a blasting wind from the east and a panoramic view: the west fork of Sabino Canyon, the north side of the "front range" of the Catalinas, much of the Catalina high terrain, and the Rincon Mountains beyond. A lunch stop was in order. As we dined, Javier and I lay on our backs and watched the sky. Dotted with cumulus clouds which raced overhead, the sky eventually cleared to a nearly unblemished azure blue. Hinako pulled out the trail map which flapped like a flag in a gale. Eventually she got it under control and found our elevation to be 6000' [1850 m], 2300' above the trailhead but still 3200' below Mt. Lemmon. To our north we could see a boulder-strewn escarpment capped with progressively larger pine trees. On the other side of this escarpment was the Wilderness of Rocks. After lunch we started up this, the steepest sustained section of the entire hike. I huffed and puffed in the rarified air. Our pace slowed. Tunnel vision began to overtake me as I stared down at my boots, oblivious to the natural beauty around me. Then I caught a whiff of fresh pine scent and was rejuvinated and reawakened. We had entered the forest, 3500 feet above the valley floor below. We crested the plateau and then began a short descent into Wilderness of Rocks. An isolated pile of oso droppings added a bit of excitement to our descent. Wilderness of Rocks is a fairly flat area surround by rounded granite boulders and spires. It is not as spectacular as places like Chirachua NM or Bryce NP, but then it's different rock, too. The area was quite dry and not as scenic as I remember it (from 4 years ago) because of damage done by the fire(s). At the base of the Lemmon Rock Lookout trail we had to make a decision: short and steep (LRT) or longer and more scenic (Marshall Gulch)? I voted for LRT, since I wanted to actually summit the mountain. Marshall Gulch isn't the tippy-top. Just as we were deciding which route to take, two hikers sporting charcoal-stained faces stumbled down from the LRT. They warned us that the route was unmarked, confusing and perhaps blocked by fire debris. We directed them toward Marshall Gulch or the Aspen trail, and off they went. Against their recommendation, we headed up the LRT. Towering overhead we could see the summit rocks, brilliant white in the sinking late-afternoon sun. On one of the easternmost rocks I could make out the Lemmon Rock lookout, a small fire post building. As we continued to climb, the trail gradually got steeper and less travelled. Finally it made a sharp turn and disappeared into faint footmarks among the pine needles. All four of us scrambled around the hillside like Orienteers looking for a misplaced control point, sans compasses or decent maps. Finally we decided to head uphill cross-country, since we could see the lookout building perhaps 1/3 of a mile away and we knew the trail went to the west of it. After crashing through some brush and shimmying past some rocks, we came upon the trail. The sun's rays were tinted orange and the mood turned sharply from afternoon to evening as we stumbled up to the two-track leading to Lemmon Rock Lookout. At the lookout Javier snapped a few cliffside shots of the whole group, with the Rincons, Santa Ritas, Whetstones and Huachucas in the background. Although the atmosphere was hazy, we could see Babquivori and Kitt Peak, the Atacosas and 'Ritas to the south, and the Pinaleños (and beyond) to the east. A cold wind began to blow and we again donned our cool-weather gear, having come full circle, temperature-wise. The last mile to the top is along an old dirt road. At the top, having reached the scenic parking lot and power station, we chowed down the remainder of our comida and gave Victor a call so he'd come pick us up. Darkness fell among the pines and we huddled in the cold. I thought of the pie and warm coffee only four miles away in Summerhaven. We walked down the road toward the ski area and finally Victor, our hero, pulled up with a 12-pack of cold cervasas.