(There is a previously published version of this tale at desertmountaineer.com; this version is virtually the same…)
Part 1
Hours of pouring over digital photographs, maps, and countless back and forth e-mails had been distilled down to this: Being circled by and ‘pulled-over’ by a helicopter in the Arizona outback. We had just stumbled onto a combo illegal alien/drug bust. Needless to say, there were many gun toting lawmen on the scene that were most interested in the dusty old pick-up truck with the two unshaven and gnarly looking characters in it. The scene was over pretty much before it got started however. We were searched by both border patrol agents and Tohono O’odham undercover drug enforcement officials twice within the space of 100 meters, and then had the helo overtake and circle us less than 500 meters later. This wasn’t the movies. There had just been a bust of about fifteen illegal’s and a ton of drugs. We weren’t involved of course, but the cops were just doing their jobs and had to make sure. One look in the back of the truck at the pile of fetid climbing and camping gear was surely enough to convince them to send us along with all haste, which is exactly what they did. We happened upon all of this at the culmination of a weeks worth of climbing and exploration on and around the Tohono O’odham Indian reservation in Southern Arizona.
In the days immediately preceding the ‘bust’ we had been making our way from the small town of Why, Arizona, along a maze of rugged back country roads and the famous ‘gas pipeline’ road. This had been a delightful and laid back portion of the week. We camped in some remote areas and wandered the desert, climbing some easy peaks along the way. The nights were spent chowing down on good food, around a good fire, listening to tunes on the truck’s stereo, and sipping tequila. We also had the opportunity to visit some lonely and apparently deserted Indian villages and cemeteries. I found all of this very humbling. To consider how the original peoples of this land had to live a life of constant hardship in this sparse environment brought me renewed perspective on our own brief vacation here. Unfortunately the road itself is littered with the flotsam and jetsam of broken bicycles, automobiles and assorted trash abandoned by illegal aliens, drug smugglers and the like.
Backtracking even further along the timeline brings us to the crown jewel of the entire trip. The real reason we were here in the first place; to climb the unnamed peak that had been so often scrutinized in the e-mailed photos. The old DM had sure done his homework, and lots of it. He had photographs of the peak and the surrounding terrain from virtually all angles. Every aspect of the mountain was exceptionally well guarded, and surely wouldn’t give up its treasure easily. After much repeated observation however, there appeared that there might be a chink in the armor. A small chink. Very small. And this was exactly where we were headed.
We planned a late and leisurely start from Tucson, arriving at the trailhead by noon on a beautiful mid-November day. ‘Trailhead’ itself was maybe a bit of a misnomer. There was in fact a good trail here that goes in to a popular climbing destination, but we were only afforded the luxury of following it for all too a brief period, for not long after we started hiking we forked off and followed indistinct cattle trails and a brushy creek bed up an isolated valley. For those of you reading this that haven’t traveled cross country in the Sonoran desert, it may look like it will be easy going. Don’t ever be fooled by this! Bushwhacking in the desert can be some of the nastiest and most challenging around. And every form of plant life seems to have some sharp thorn or spike on it that either constantly snags your clothing or pack or worse yet your skin. Be prepared to give blood. And in the warmer months there is the persistent threat from a variety of snakes, biting and stinging insects, and even killer bees. The creek bed itself was littered with the bleached bones of free range cattle that died of unknown causes in the wilderness as opposed to the known fate of an abattoir. I have always felt that it’s an omen of sorts, to come across skeletal remains of any animal during the approach to a climb, even if it is a cow. On this day though, there was a counter-spell to the portent; swarms of tiny butterflies that formed little rainbow clouds moving throughout the brush.
We were vainly trying to follow the go fast, go light doctrine, but we had a ton of gear. As you can imagine, part of the difficulty of desert climbs of course, is having adequate water. We were planning to be up to three days up country, and there would be no water sources at all once we climbed up higher. The thought of carrying in enough water all the way from the truck had been a tough thing to contemplate, so we didn’t. We figured that there would be some pools, if not even some running water in portions of the creek in the valley. This being based on observations that the DM had made in previous months on one of his several valuable recons into the area. Our plan was to bring a filter and to filter water at the last possible moment before heading up from the valley bottom to our proposed bivi site. The plan and our luck panned out, but just barely. We found one and only one, small bug and nematode invested pool of murky water. We filtered approximately ten litres of that water. That translates to about five extra kilos each that we would be carrying steeply uphill from this point onwards. A little further along up the riparian watercourse we found yet another carcass of a cow; I suppose our water had been pre-filtered through that as well! Hopefully we had enough to hydrate two guys for three days. Fortunately being November the blistering conditions of the Arizona summer furnace were well past. But that also comes with a small price…
After the water, the other contributing factor to our large loads was the uncertainty of the climb itself. The DM felt that a first ascent of the peak undoubtedly was in order for us, and as such we had no beta whatsoever on the quality or type of rock, or even difficulties we might encounter. That being the case we were loaded for bear with a full rack of cams, tri-cams, wires, and hexes. A 60M rope, a 60M static rap cord, and lots and lots of slings and rappel rings that rounded out the gear. We had brought some pins and a hammer along but we wisely opted to leave them in the truck as the packs were already close to, if not over the line in weight.
An hour and more of grinding steeply upwards through typical desert scrub found us not only completely knackered, but lower than we had expected to get to that day and caught in the gathering dusk, but at a tremendous bivi site. There was a wonderful and mostly level grassy section on the steep hillside, with a couple of trees nearby. It was at least a hundred metres or so lower than where we wanted to be, but as it turned out was the best, if not only site around. The surrounding area defied description. The entire south face of the peak reared over our heads. There were equally overwhelming cliffs on the other side of the valley to the south of us. A huge cavern big enough to hold a house looked down on us from the wall looming above and there was a tall eerily curved freestanding pinnacle that held watch over us to the east. We hastily ate and drank and prepared to settle in for the night as bats buzzed us in the deepening purple hues of twilight. And what a night it turned out to be. The galaxy splashed across the heavens in a glittering display until gradually dimmed and finally extinguished by the moon rising during a full lunar eclipse. To top it all off, the evening show was later concluded with an outstanding meteor shower. Sleep did not come easy. Throughout the night we heard mysterious animal cries coming from the cliffs above and around us, that we were never able to identify. The various adventures of Carlos Castaneda came to mind here. My vivid imagination was also running overtime as I was maybe a bit more realistically envisioning mountain rattlesnakes wanting to crawl into my bag for warmth. All of the magnificence of the setting, the primal noises, and fears and the anxiety of the unknown climb awaiting us in the morning contributed to a very fitful albeit beautiful night.
You’ll see things on the desert at night that you can’t understand
– Mr. Johnson (Cities of the Plain)
Stay tuned for part 2 and the conclusion…