Since the theme of the weekend was climbing and Four Peaks, I decided to get a little dose of it on Friday. After work, I headed to the climbing gym with Tyler and Melissa before having a Team Escape happy hour at the Four Peaks Brewery. It's amazing how much we shared in such a short period of time while in Zion, and it was great to get together again and discuss future adventures.
I headed home before too late and got a good night's sleep. Jack knocked on my door at 6:30 a.m. asking if I wanted to join him for a Desert Classic-Telegraph Pass-National ride. As much as I wanted to go, I also wanted to sleep in a little bit for the first time in a long time. For once in my life, I was actually glad that I didn't go, as when Jack limped back from his abbreviated ride on DC, he was spent with the combination of heat and humidity, and had nothing good to say about his ride. I spent the morning and early afternoon getting stuff done around the house and a little bit in the lab. Then, at 3 p.m., I loaded up my pack into Tom's car and Hannah, Tom, Martin, and I headed north to join Angel out to the Four Peaks Wilderness. After a brief stint at Target - where I 
picked up some AMAZING juice boxes for adults: sangria in 250 ml boxes, we transferred our stuff into Angel's brand new Xterra and drove north on 87. We arrived at the trailhead parking lot a few hours before dark. We had the entire mountain to ourselves, so we set up camp in one of the corners of the dirt lot and set to playing a bit of frisbee and exploring. We scrambled on the boulders above the camp with our boxes of wine and watched the sun go down over the Valley far away. It was a very peaceful being the only ones on the mountain, and I couldn't have been happier. After it got dark, we shared the odds and ends of a dinner (including everything from canned ravioli to bread and hummus to potato chips) around a very bright lantern. Full and excited about the next day, we headed off to bed.
picked up some AMAZING juice boxes for adults: sangria in 250 ml boxes, we transferred our stuff into Angel's brand new Xterra and drove north on 87. We arrived at the trailhead parking lot a few hours before dark. We had the entire mountain to ourselves, so we set up camp in one of the corners of the dirt lot and set to playing a bit of frisbee and exploring. We scrambled on the boulders above the camp with our boxes of wine and watched the sun go down over the Valley far away. It was a very peaceful being the only ones on the mountain, and I couldn't have been happier. After it got dark, we shared the odds and ends of a dinner (including everything from canned ravioli to bread and hummus to potato chips) around a very bright lantern. Full and excited about the next day, we headed off to bed.Although we had brought several tents, we opted only to set up a four-person tent to simplify packing up early in the morning. It turned out to be a bad decision, as a four-person tent fits about the same number as a four-person liferaft: although it holds that many people in an emergency situation, it certainly isn't comfortable. Angel sprawled out in the Xterra while the rest of us sardines slept fitfully, counting down the hours until the sun came up. By 5 a.m., a bright orange band broke through the gray twilight and lit up Lake Roosevelt to the east. We packed up camp, packed our bags, and by 5:50, we started up the trail. We appreciated the tricks that the morning light and rolling fog played on our surroundings as we made our way up to the saddle of the mountain. The feeling was a bit eery and exciting at the same time. We reached the saddle in 50 minutes, and after admiring the view for a bit, we found our way to the Amethyst Trail. The fog was steadily rolling in as the ground below us warmed up, obscuring our view of the peaks above us. I was pleasantly surprised at the condition of the trail. I had expected to bushwack from the start, but the trail was relatively easy to follow along the western ridge of the mountains on the edge of the treeline. As we were making our way around Peak 2, I spotted a few small purple crystals among the gravel. Soon, we were finding amethysts everywhere. Like big kids on an Easter egg hunt, we had our eyes glued to the ground, trying to find a better one than the one before. Before we knew it, we came upon an old rusty gate that separated us from the mine and the next stage of our hike. We climbed over and around the razor wire and into a small gully that had been washed out in a recent monsoon. Crystals were everywhere, and we all scrambled around finding chunks of the amethysts among the other rocks. Both Hannah and I found substantial pieces before we continued up past a small mining shack and into the cleft in between Peaks #3 and #4. The scenery became eerier the higher we climbed. I felt like a character in a cross between Chronicles of Narnia and Camelot, and I half expected to see a dragon to come roaring out of a cave at any time. The fog was so thick that we could not see ahead of us, and as we climbed, the fog swallowed up where we had just travelled. Still, we scrambled up; over boulders, through thick scrub oak, carefully on top of loose scree (Hannah barely missed a large loose rock that Angel had sent tumbling) and into mossy springs. It was slow going, but eventually we all climbed up onto a ridgeline, where
the fog rolled out for a few seconds to reveal a far away peak. The fog closed in as quickly as it had opened, leaving us in a small island of visibility that left much up to the imagination. Tom, Hannah, and Martin were positive that the peak we saw had to be Peak #4, but my navigational instints told me that it had to be Peak #3 to our north. Based on the way we had come up the mountain and the current ridge that we rested on, I figured that #4 HAD to be off to our right, to our south. For several minutes, I was berated and told that I was completely wrong, crazy, and on drugs. But I knew that I was right, and broke out the map to confirm at least the route that we had taken to get up. To me, I didn't see how it could be any other way. I was alone in my fight, but I would not back down, and I started up towards where I knew the peak should be as Martin broke out his compass. Low and behold, north pointed exactly where I said that Peak #3 should be. Had I broken down, we would have never made it to Peak #4. Following my navigation, we made it up two more ridges to a stone pile at the top of the peak that held a rocket box that contained the Peak #4 register
, confirming at last our place in the white world. The fog continually rolled in and out, but it was still difficult to determine the best route up to #3. After we signed our names in the register and took a few pictures, we scrambled down from the peak to tackle the next one. Coming down from #4 was a combination of light scrambling and bushwacking through the only peak with pines. When we reached the saddle between the peaks, we could see a bit of a route up towards the summit ridgeline. Tom and I started up what we hoped would be our best bet and were rewarded with some fairly steep scrambling. We definitely used our rock climbing skills on the steep pitches, catching our breath and scanning always upwards. Although it was steep, the exposure wasn't too terribly bad... until I looked down. About halfway up, I experienced a little bit of vertigo as the fog lifted enough to reveal just how
far we had come up. It was a more than a little bit spooky, especially not knowing what was ahead of us. But, there was nothing to do but continue on. After several more scrambling walls, we reached a knifelike ridge that would lead us to the summit. Had the fog not covered everything, it might have been a bit scarier, but we couldn't see more than 20 feet below us and had lots of good hand grips and ledges to stand on. Finally, we made it to the very top, and pulled the register box out of a rock pile full of lady bugs. The fog opened up to reveal the broad plain of Lake Roosevelt below to our west, and for a short time, gave us a chance to size up our next adversary. The trick to route finding between Peaks #2 and #3 is that there is no route. All of the past trip reports that we had read led us to believe that we should go around the east side of the mountains, but other than that, good luck. Peering into the foggy valley to our north, we understood why. Munching on apples and candy bars to get a little bit of energy up, we could not see a good way to get down. Like a river runner staring at a wall of whitewater for the first time, I knew that we were in for a treat, like it or not.
the fog rolled out for a few seconds to reveal a far away peak. The fog closed in as quickly as it had opened, leaving us in a small island of visibility that left much up to the imagination. Tom, Hannah, and Martin were positive that the peak we saw had to be Peak #4, but my navigational instints told me that it had to be Peak #3 to our north. Based on the way we had come up the mountain and the current ridge that we rested on, I figured that #4 HAD to be off to our right, to our south. For several minutes, I was berated and told that I was completely wrong, crazy, and on drugs. But I knew that I was right, and broke out the map to confirm at least the route that we had taken to get up. To me, I didn't see how it could be any other way. I was alone in my fight, but I would not back down, and I started up towards where I knew the peak should be as Martin broke out his compass. Low and behold, north pointed exactly where I said that Peak #3 should be. Had I broken down, we would have never made it to Peak #4. Following my navigation, we made it up two more ridges to a stone pile at the top of the peak that held a rocket box that contained the Peak #4 register
, confirming at last our place in the white world. The fog continually rolled in and out, but it was still difficult to determine the best route up to #3. After we signed our names in the register and took a few pictures, we scrambled down from the peak to tackle the next one. Coming down from #4 was a combination of light scrambling and bushwacking through the only peak with pines. When we reached the saddle between the peaks, we could see a bit of a route up towards the summit ridgeline. Tom and I started up what we hoped would be our best bet and were rewarded with some fairly steep scrambling. We definitely used our rock climbing skills on the steep pitches, catching our breath and scanning always upwards. Although it was steep, the exposure wasn't too terribly bad... until I looked down. About halfway up, I experienced a little bit of vertigo as the fog lifted enough to reveal just how
far we had come up. It was a more than a little bit spooky, especially not knowing what was ahead of us. But, there was nothing to do but continue on. After several more scrambling walls, we reached a knifelike ridge that would lead us to the summit. Had the fog not covered everything, it might have been a bit scarier, but we couldn't see more than 20 feet below us and had lots of good hand grips and ledges to stand on. Finally, we made it to the very top, and pulled the register box out of a rock pile full of lady bugs. The fog opened up to reveal the broad plain of Lake Roosevelt below to our west, and for a short time, gave us a chance to size up our next adversary. The trick to route finding between Peaks #2 and #3 is that there is no route. All of the past trip reports that we had read led us to believe that we should go around the east side of the mountains, but other than that, good luck. Peering into the foggy valley to our north, we understood why. Munching on apples and candy bars to get a little bit of energy up, we could not see a good way to get down. Like a river runner staring at a wall of whitewater for the first time, I knew that we were in for a treat, like it or not. We spent a bit of time at the peak resting and gearing up for what we knew would be the defining part of the climb. Then we all cinched up our packs and took off towards the north. Our efforts were almost instantly thwarted as the northern edge of the mountain ended abruptly in a steep cliff. East it wa
s. We made our way down a cleft in between two steeper parts of the mountain. Not long into the face, we came to a very steep downclimb. Tom and Hannah started down without hesitation, but I faultered on the edge. I held back and let Angel climb down, and heard Tom yell out that there was another steep drop below the initial downclimb. For some reason, I just had a really bad feeling about the route, so Martin and I opted to climb up and around the steep section. It was a little bit out of the way, but we managed to scout a really fun way down, using scrub oak branches as impromtu ropes as we slid easily down the smooth sloping granite. We met up with the Tom quickly and watched Hannah and Angel come the rest of the way down the difficult section before continuing on. We proceeded downclimbing and scrambling down the cleft for some time, yelling out whomever was leading at the time, "Is it doable?," when they stopped at a particularily sketchy section on more than a dozen occasions. We each took turns mapping out routes, and I had a great time scouting ahead. At one point, while waiting on the others, I came to our steepest and longest dead end yet. I stood on a boulder, hanging onto some scrub branches, peering over the edge of the 50' cliff, hoping with all of my heart that there was an exit somewhere. Finally, looking back up the mountain, I saw what I hoped was a route to the south and pointed Hannah through the thick brush towards it. Less than a minute later, Hannah shouted back that we had hit another difficult section. I came up on her, on the opposite side of a very exposed ledge, peering down anothe 10' drop. I wasn't even feeling confident enough to traverse the ledge, so I opted to go up and around again. It was the long way, but it turned out to be a whole lot easier, and I hopped down to the bottom of the cliff while Tom attempted a wicked downclimb. In the end, the entire group followed me up and around and we resumed our scrambling. After about two hours, we finally reached the last of the steep cliffs and were able to traverse the rocks and brush over to the east face of Peak #2. We continued to skirt the lower part of the mountain until we could look up without seeing walls above us. I tried and failed to make it up a few scrambling pitches before we made it around to a bit of a valley in between two steeper faces and started making our way up. Half of the most challenging part of the day was over, but we still had a long ways to go. It was amazing how our idea of "hard," "steep," and "dangerous" had changed over the course of the day. We scrambled over difficult boulders as if they were nothing and hauled ourselves up exposed faces that we wouldn't have even thought about tackling in the morning. At that point, we just wanted to gain the summit, but the mountain certainly did not make it easy for us. The sun had come out in all of its desert glory, and we squinted through the sweat dripping in our faces, always with an eagle eye scouting for the summit. I stopped at a little spring coming out of the mountain and feasted on the delicious, cold water, and gave some to Martin, who had run out. Hours in, we finally topped out on a little bit of ridge that revealed two peaks at the top with a false summit to the east of them. Tom started to scale the false ridgeline while the rest of us consulted the map and tried to figure out exactly which way was the best. Finally we decided to just head up between the two taller peaks. Martin and I scouted ahead and tried to show the rest of the group the best route. The best route became blocked at one point by a rattlesnake, which Hannah found as she grabbed onto a nearby tree. Finally we reached the ridgeline... only to find that the true summit was still a long ways off. But, I was rewarded with at least knowing where I was. When Ted and I had attempted to climb over to #3 during our first time on Four Peaks, we had made it to that knifelike ridgeline before we were forced to turn around. This was a testimony to our literal "steep" learning curve of the day, as we had just hiked up what I had previously thought was impossible. As we continued to climb, I kept coming to what I thought was close to the summit only to realize that the mountain had many tricks up her sleeve in the form of impassable brush, crumbling rock, and false routes. There was no choice but to press on, but it was incredibly frustrating, and I thought that we would never reach the summit. I sloughed off my scouting responsibility and just set my sights on finishing the mountain, yelling back to my teammates every once in awhile to keep them on track.
s. We made our way down a cleft in between two steeper parts of the mountain. Not long into the face, we came to a very steep downclimb. Tom and Hannah started down without hesitation, but I faultered on the edge. I held back and let Angel climb down, and heard Tom yell out that there was another steep drop below the initial downclimb. For some reason, I just had a really bad feeling about the route, so Martin and I opted to climb up and around the steep section. It was a little bit out of the way, but we managed to scout a really fun way down, using scrub oak branches as impromtu ropes as we slid easily down the smooth sloping granite. We met up with the Tom quickly and watched Hannah and Angel come the rest of the way down the difficult section before continuing on. We proceeded downclimbing and scrambling down the cleft for some time, yelling out whomever was leading at the time, "Is it doable?," when they stopped at a particularily sketchy section on more than a dozen occasions. We each took turns mapping out routes, and I had a great time scouting ahead. At one point, while waiting on the others, I came to our steepest and longest dead end yet. I stood on a boulder, hanging onto some scrub branches, peering over the edge of the 50' cliff, hoping with all of my heart that there was an exit somewhere. Finally, looking back up the mountain, I saw what I hoped was a route to the south and pointed Hannah through the thick brush towards it. Less than a minute later, Hannah shouted back that we had hit another difficult section. I came up on her, on the opposite side of a very exposed ledge, peering down anothe 10' drop. I wasn't even feeling confident enough to traverse the ledge, so I opted to go up and around again. It was the long way, but it turned out to be a whole lot easier, and I hopped down to the bottom of the cliff while Tom attempted a wicked downclimb. In the end, the entire group followed me up and around and we resumed our scrambling. After about two hours, we finally reached the last of the steep cliffs and were able to traverse the rocks and brush over to the east face of Peak #2. We continued to skirt the lower part of the mountain until we could look up without seeing walls above us. I tried and failed to make it up a few scrambling pitches before we made it around to a bit of a valley in between two steeper faces and started making our way up. Half of the most challenging part of the day was over, but we still had a long ways to go. It was amazing how our idea of "hard," "steep," and "dangerous" had changed over the course of the day. We scrambled over difficult boulders as if they were nothing and hauled ourselves up exposed faces that we wouldn't have even thought about tackling in the morning. At that point, we just wanted to gain the summit, but the mountain certainly did not make it easy for us. The sun had come out in all of its desert glory, and we squinted through the sweat dripping in our faces, always with an eagle eye scouting for the summit. I stopped at a little spring coming out of the mountain and feasted on the delicious, cold water, and gave some to Martin, who had run out. Hours in, we finally topped out on a little bit of ridge that revealed two peaks at the top with a false summit to the east of them. Tom started to scale the false ridgeline while the rest of us consulted the map and tried to figure out exactly which way was the best. Finally we decided to just head up between the two taller peaks. Martin and I scouted ahead and tried to show the rest of the group the best route. The best route became blocked at one point by a rattlesnake, which Hannah found as she grabbed onto a nearby tree. Finally we reached the ridgeline... only to find that the true summit was still a long ways off. But, I was rewarded with at least knowing where I was. When Ted and I had attempted to climb over to #3 during our first time on Four Peaks, we had made it to that knifelike ridgeline before we were forced to turn around. This was a testimony to our literal "steep" learning curve of the day, as we had just hiked up what I had previously thought was impossible. As we continued to climb, I kept coming to what I thought was close to the summit only to realize that the mountain had many tricks up her sleeve in the form of impassable brush, crumbling rock, and false routes. There was no choice but to press on, but it was incredibly frustrating, and I thought that we would never reach the summit. I sloughed off my scouting responsibility and just set my sights on finishing the mountain, yelling back to my teammates every once in awhile to keep them on track. Finally, five hours after departing Peak #3, I pulled myself up the last boulder and found myself on the true summit. Exhausted and relieved, I dropped my pack and took a moment to enjoy the accomplishment. Hannah arrived shortly afterwards, and we high-fived and
waited for the rest of the group to summit as well. We all took a bit of time to rehydrate and reenergize before we set off to finish the Motherlode. I resumed my scouting duties for the tired pack, and after a few exposed pitches that we hardly noticed, we made it to the bottom of #2 and traversed around and up to the scrubby chute that led to the top of #1. It was such a feeling to be up there at the highest point in Maricopa County with four of my good friends, having reached a milestone that very few hikers even attempt. We took lots of pictures now that the fog and clouds had completely burned off. Our journey was not over yet, though, and we slowly began making our way down to the scree chute. My legs were comp
letely worn out, and my knees resisted each step of the way. I finally monkeyed my way down to the saddle, using my arms as much as I could to take the load off of my tired lower body. Our weary group sat on the logs for a bit to muster one last bit of strength before pressing on to the car. We were all sort of in our own little worlds, and the group spread out in a short amount of time. I found myself alone with the mountain, the sun seeping through the young oak and pine trees. Bone-tired as I was, I still could not help but admire the beauty that surrounded me and the incredible feat that we had just accomplished. Eventually, though, my mind started to wander and settled fast on the Monster energy drink that was waiting for me back at camp.
waited for the rest of the group to summit as well. We all took a bit of time to rehydrate and reenergize before we set off to finish the Motherlode. I resumed my scouting duties for the tired pack, and after a few exposed pitches that we hardly noticed, we made it to the bottom of #2 and traversed around and up to the scrubby chute that led to the top of #1. It was such a feeling to be up there at the highest point in Maricopa County with four of my good friends, having reached a milestone that very few hikers even attempt. We took lots of pictures now that the fog and clouds had completely burned off. Our journey was not over yet, though, and we slowly began making our way down to the scree chute. My legs were comp
letely worn out, and my knees resisted each step of the way. I finally monkeyed my way down to the saddle, using my arms as much as I could to take the load off of my tired lower body. Our weary group sat on the logs for a bit to muster one last bit of strength before pressing on to the car. We were all sort of in our own little worlds, and the group spread out in a short amount of time. I found myself alone with the mountain, the sun seeping through the young oak and pine trees. Bone-tired as I was, I still could not help but admire the beauty that surrounded me and the incredible feat that we had just accomplished. Eventually, though, my mind started to wander and settled fast on the Monster energy drink that was waiting for me back at camp. The last 20 minutes of the hike seemed to take forever until finally I came out of the forest and at last spotted the car, where Angel and Martin were already resting. Hannah and Tom came shortly after and we all enjoyed liquid and calories and clean clothes before starting the long drive back to Phoenix. As Angel drove the Xterra down the long dirt road in the fading twilight, we all relived the incredible adventures of the day and the car buzzed with an incredible feeling of our completed goal.
Although I remained sore for the next few days (the Tuesday night bike race and Wednesday ultimate league games were pretty tough), the adventure was definitely worth it. It was one of the toughest hikes I have ever done, and also one of the most rewarding. Although I said that I probably wouldn't do the hike again after we finished, time has a way of healing the scratches and soreness, and you'll probably find me up there again sometime.
Although I remained sore for the next few days (the Tuesday night bike race and Wednesday ultimate league games were pretty tough), the adventure was definitely worth it. It was one of the toughest hikes I have ever done, and also one of the most rewarding. Although I said that I probably wouldn't do the hike again after we finished, time has a way of healing the scratches and soreness, and you'll probably find me up there again sometime.
2 comments:
you sound so interesting and we have a lot in common im adventurous i love the water and i love music when i was in school id always get in choir and i love music so much and everybody thinks i can sing so good but i really dont want to boast
I'm doing this in September. Looks like FUN! I have a crazy friend who wants to do it with me. He has a sick mind, like mine. I wonder how many yucca plants will stab me?
Congrats.
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