In Ice Axe We Trust, Show 5 - Humphreys Peak

Tonight, March 13, 2013, we will be talking about the tallest mountain in Arizona with jestheccc and jenniferwoods, two Arizona bloggers and podcasters. In honor of this, check out jestheccc's post about her climb of the mountain ​​​HERE and Matt Mills' post of his climb of the mountain HERE. Also, for your viewing pleasure, check out the photos of the peak below, courtesy of Matt Mills, and of the surrounding San Francisco Range in winter, courtesy of me. Be sure to tune in to the show HERE and tell a friend!

​Summit, Humphreys Peak

​Summit, Humphreys Peak

​San Francisco Range, Winter

By All Signs - How Not to Select a Hiking Guide

​Peralta Trailhead, Superstition Mountains, Arizona

By all signs, the day had promised to be a good one. Weather in the Superstition Mountains was promising to be warm by mid-day, but pleasant in the early morning hours.  The alien and mysterious scenery was full of promising wonder from the photographs viewed online months before. And our guide for the day had promised to lead us through some unfamiliar territory with skill and experience.

But some promises are easier to keep than others. Some signs are more difficult to read than others and when it comes to people, it’s wise to read those signs carefully.

The Superstition Mountains located east of Phoenix, Arizona had held a particular fascination for me when I first heard their ominous name as a young man. Native American legends of caves leading to the underworld, stories of miner Jacob Waitz’s “Lost Dutchman Mine,” and the otherworldly nature of the place stoked my imagination and dreams of adventure that lingered well into adulthood. Years later, the thought of hiking among the monoliths, erosional remnant spires and twisting canyons were now reawakened when I met, well, let’s call him “Sam.”

I met Sam at a conference in Arizona where I was a guest speaker. He was a trade association representative attending the conference and while standing in line for the conference buffet lunch, he praised my presentation as we talked shop for a while. Eventually, my conversations drift into one of a handful of topics, including hiking. Being an avid hiker himself and a resident of the area he offered to show me around “The Supers” the next time I was in town. During the conversation I mentioned that I had done a little reading about the place lately and was strongly hoping to photograph the “Weaver’s Needle” a giant monolith located in a high valley in the mountains.

Sam explained that he had hiked the area many times and was familiar with the hike that I referenced in the guidebook I pulled out from my briefcase. “Oh yeah, been there dozens of times,” he explained. When I continued to show him the guidebook’s suggested route of starting at the Peralta Canyon trailhead up to the Freemont Saddle and then traversing slightly east cross-country to drop down to a parallel canyon back to the trailhead, he nodded knowingly.

“That’s the most popular route to view the needle, great photo ops there,” he explained. “The cross-country stuff is pretty easy and there are goat trails all over the saddle that drop down into Boulder Canyon,” he continued, “not much scrambling…a little, but I’m sure it’ll be no problem…no problem at all.”

The word, “scrambling” caught my attention. I couldn’t recall any mention of scrambling in any of the hike descriptions. But, here was an Arizona hiker with seemingly years of experience and knowledge of the area, who was I to question first hand trail information for an area I had only read and dreamt about? Warning Sign #1: If someone describes a hike in very different terms than maps and guidebooks indicate, it’s best to question and explore their information a bit further to make sure all parties are in agreement as to which damn hike we’re talking about.  

A month later and after a few telephone conversations about rendezvous points, we met at the Peralta trailhead well before first light. The Arizona season for desert hiking was nearing its end as mid-day temperatures were predicted to be in the high 90’s. But since the hike was supposed to last only for about 4 hours, maybe 5 with stops made to take photos and water, we’d be back in the cars no later than 11:00 AM. Good plan, I reasoned and Sam agreed.

As I had explained earlier to Sam, I would be bringing my hiking companion, let’s call her “Betty,” who was a new but determined hiker, willing to tackle just about anything as long as the pace wasn’t too swift and the climb too aggressive. I asked Sam many times, “the cross-country and scrambling stuff isn’t too difficult for her?”

“Oh no, I hike with the ladies aallll the time, I’m sure Betty will do fine..” he smiled.

Warning Sign #2: If your guide refers to female hiking companions as “the ladies” and evaluates their hiking prowess based on their gender and not their actual abilities, find another guide. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.

Betty bristled a little from the condescending comment, but let it go. She was there to hike and not argue sexual politics. She quickly offered to bring up the rear so that “you boys” can chat” during the hike.

As dawn began to brighten the landscape, Betty and I were dumbstruck. The Superstition Mountains certainly lived up to the imaginings of a young boy as more of the volcanic formations revealed themselves with each passing minute. It was hard to keep my eyes on the trail as I continued to look up at the stoic hoodoos lining Peralta Canyon.  Their silent and almost watchful presence filled the surroundings with an almost spiritual presence. I knew that the first humans who gazed up at them likely felt that same presence as well. We were in the presence of quiet grandeur that is rare to find in our modern life.

The quiet grandeur however was repeatedly broken by Sam’s ongoing commentary. With the very first step we took until we reached the saddle an hour later, the man would not stop talking. Even when I asked him to listen carefully to the birds and soft sounds in the canyon, the welcome silence lasted perhaps 30 seconds. It wasn’t a conversation we were having; it was a monologue, an unending prattle of his dangerous experiences in the wild.

​Weaver's Needle

Though increasingly annoying, it was the subject matter that was most disturbing. I became aware that each story he told was of some near-death experience he or his hiking companions had survived. The tales were increasing in their severity as he explained how he had robbed death of another customer.

We heard about the time that he and his hiking party got caught in a blizzard in Colorado, only to escape with severe frostbite that took a portion of his toes. There was the hike across a rocky terrain during which his wife, now ex-wife, lost most of the soles of her boots due to the terrain only to be saved by repeated repairs with a large roll of duct tape. And how he was lost a few times and had to await daybreak to find his way back to the trail.

Warning Sign #3: If your hiking partner/guide overtly revels in the near catastrophic situations he’s been through rather than the exciting vistas, good times or accomplishing a difficult hike through training, careful planning and will power, he’s likely going to court disaster with you as well.

As we crested the saddle, the Weaver’s Needle revealed itself in its entire natural splendor, fortunately without having to lose footwear or run out of water. Our respite there was quickly ended as he and I began discussing the way back. I showed him the map and guidebook with it’s directions to head easterly across the adjoining mesa and then down into the adjacent canyon. Though faint, the path to the dropdown point was visible in the disturbed desert soil.

“That way is a yawner, I know a more exciting way back to the cars,” he offered, “there’s just a little scrambling, a little down climbing, but nothing too extreme.” I explained that Betty was a relative novice hiker and may not be able to handle it. “Naw, she’s good, I’ll make sure she makes it fine,” Sam assured me.

He then began to look for this exciting detour by searching the ground for the “goat trails” that headed across the canyon’s ridgeline. Betty spotted it first and he congratulated her for her good pathfinding skills. “I’m going to call you Eagle-Eyed Betty,” he said laughingly.

It wouldn’t be the last time Eagle Eye and I found the path when he continually lost sight of it.

Warning Sign #4: When your guide repeatedly gets lost, ignores the map and decides that his way is “more exciting,” its time to turn around.

​Weavers Needle, Superstition Mountains, Arizona

The “little scrambling” and “little down-climbing” soon became near-technical in scope and size. On more than one occasion, I was nervous as we looked for handholds and purchase as we descended ancient, slick water chutes or jumped dangerously across yawning gaps between broken, unconsolidated boulders. Betty was petrified but her determination kept her moving despite her fear.  As I watched Sam, he too, was concerned about the taken route since much of the trail was likely new to him. Again, he had lost the trail.

The four-hour hike stretched into five and then six. The rising sun did not disappoint as the temperature rose to the predicted high 90+ degree weather with miles to go yet.

Finally, Betty and I had experienced enough of this “guide.” Taking out the map again, I was able to determine where we were and where we needed to go to get back to the trailhead. By then, Betty also began to suffer from heat exhaustion that was quickly remedied with cool water poured over her head and clothing and into her thirsty body as we rested in the shade.  I told Sam, “We’re going to wait here for a while to recoup. We’ll be just a few minutes.”

“Nooo problem, if you think you know the way, I think I’ll continue on” he said. As he turned away, I advised him to turn south. I pointed out that if you look carefully enough, you could actually see the parking lot at the trailhead which had apparently escaped his notice.

“Hey, you’re just as eagle-eyed as Betty!” he proclaimed, “thanks, I’ll see you there!”

Warning Sign #5: Ah, you don’t need me to point it out by now, Ray Charles could read this sign.

After I was sure he was headed in the right direction, I collected Betty and told her to stay ahead of me so I could keep an eye on her. She quickly spied the path we were to take and proceeded ahead. It was then I noticed that the seat of her pants had suffered from a wardrobe malfunction.  Down-climbing and scooting across the terrain had resulted in half of her hiking shorts tearing away.  She laughed and said, “The perfect way to end this perfect day with our perfect guide,” as she tucked her neckerchief into her belt, covering her rear, Tonto-style.

Just as the temperature rose above 100, we reached the parking lot. Sam was nowhere to be seen, but I could hear his chatter among the many vehicles in the lot. Betty was deposited into the car, AC blasting and a cool drink retrieved from the cooler stored in the trunk and I sought out Sam.  Following his distinctive call, I found him surrounded by a group of unsuspecting hiking types, listening raptly to every word.

Walking up to him, I shook his hand, told him to take care and “be safe out there.” Turning to the assembled listeners, I said, “This is Sam. He’s got lots of stories to tell about his survival from the very jaws of outdoor death. He’s had many a close call, probably too many for one lifetime. Listen carefully and learn from his numerous mistakes. I just learned from one of mine today.”

Rejoining Betty, we headed west back to Phoenix, wiser and hungrier than expected. Betty performed the miracle of changing clothes inside a car that only women can execute properly. We exchanged thoughts about Sam, the hike and the rest of the experience over tacos and beers just outside of town.

“Think you’ll be hiking with him again?” she asked, looking down at her food.

“No, I don’t suppose I will. I don’t want to carry that much duct tape with me on a day hike,” I said.

On The Outdoor Community & Previewing "By All Signs"

​When exploring, it's good to have the knowledge how to avoid cholla cacti. 

Long time readers of this blog know that there’s four things I’m passionate about: adventure, exploration, knowledge, and sharing that knowledge. If you’ve ever read, or seen this blog, you’ve heard me beat the drum about how adventure can be found anywhere numerous times, and the importance of exploration. If you haven’t, a sampling of those posts can be found here, and here. As for the latter two topics, if you know me, you know that I strongly believe there’s something to learn every day; and life’s too short to stop learning. I started this blog in part, because I felt that I had a lot of knowledge to share, and I wanted to provide that knowledge and my experiences to the outdoor community. To me, this blog was an extension of what I had been doing my whole life – talking to people on the trail, the mountain, or around the fire about what I knew, how I knew it, and also listening to what others had to say about what they knew, how they knew it, and where I could go.  

​Trust me, the lake of outdoor knowledge is much bigger than this!

Several years later, one of the things I still like the best about blogging is the sharing of knowledge and the community interactions. It’s through these community interactions that I met Matt Mills, my co-host on In Ice Axe We Trust (“IIAWT”), and if you want to hear me expound awkwardly about the sharing of knowledge, I suggest you listen here. These interactions are also how I met tomorrow’s guest blogger, Terry Tyson. I think that these interactions; this sharing of knowledge makes our community stronger; better; faster; and most importantly – smarter. So, as you read this post – and tomorrow’s post, written graciously by Terry, I’d suggest taking a minute to think about two things: 1) what can you do to make the community stronger – whether its retweeting a post, or offering to write for a blog you like because you’ve got great tips for them, or something else. After all, the pool of knowledge isn’t a secret isolated pond – it’s a massive body of water that’s fed by many streams. As for the second, as always, do what you can to help the environment, as always, because it always needs your help.

Before I get off my soapbox, let me introduce Terry Tyson – the man, the myth, and the legend. One of the last true magicians, a mentalist, a hiker, and many things more that I don’t even know to promote. One of the things I can promote is his blog HERE, and I’ll also disclose that I’ve known Terry for a while, and he always has something erudite to say – or some great photos to share. A couple weeks ago, after I wrote my post complaining about unprepared winter hikers, he mentioned that he had a story about unprepared people who offered to lead other people on hikes. We fell to discussing the matter, as friends do, and the end result is the article you’ll see tomorrow about an experience Terry had with friends in the Superstition Mountains with a party who was not prepared – nor experienced enough to guide others.

Terry’s been gracious enough to give me editorial control over his article, which I didn’t need, and has also offered me the final word, which I also didn’t need. Personally, I think the article speaks for itself and is Terry in Terry’s own words, telling a cautionary tale with a simple lesson: be sure you know the people you are hiking with. As I’ve discussed, and as Terry will talk about, the outdoors is a dangerous place; and when you go out with third parties, you need to be sure that they are representing the conditions and route correctly, not just for them but for you, and any people you may bring with you. In this respect, I’ll offer you a simple analogy: guiding is like singing. Everyone thinks they can do it, but few can. Like being prepared for winter hiking, you have to be prepared for anything when hiking with new parties, including being prepared for any deficiencies the “guide” or “friend” may have. This is not to say you should never hike with an unknown party or “guide”, but merely that you should be prepared for what could happen in the worst case scenario; and be hopeful for a best case scenario. In any case, Terry’s article is great, and I hope you enjoy reading it tomorrow when I put it up!

In Ice Axe We Trust, February 2013 Recap

​Summit View, Mt. Elbert, Colorado

Ahoy-hoy listeners and readers! If you’re not listening to In Ice Axe We Trust (“IIAWT”), you are missing out! February was a great second month of podcasts for IIAWT, and we had three fantastic guests, Epic Bill Bradley (@epicbillbradley), Michael Restivo (@mikeoffthemap), and Bob Doucette (@RMhigh7088). Both shows had great practical mountaineering tips, and more mountaineering stories than you could shake your trekking poles at; so, without further ado, check out the episodes below:

February 13, 2013, Episode 3: Introduction to Expedition Mountaineering. Unofficially, I’m going to call this the “Show up and suffer” show in honor of Epic Bill Bradley, who is an amazing guy and personal friend of the show. If you’re interested at all in the nuts and bolts of getting into the sport of expedition mountaineering, Bill provides a how-to guide of how he climbed Denali in 2012 from start to finish. This is something you really need to listen to, so check that out: HERE, or on iTunes.

​Not a wolf, but there are wolves in our Podcast! Tune on in to find out where and when!

February 27, 2013, Episode 4: Mount Elbert, Colorado: the IIAWT How-to climb guide. If you thought that we couldn’t top the stories of Epic Bill in Episode 3, you’d be wrong. We were lucky to have two great guests, Michael Restivo and Bob Doucette in studio who, along with me, broke down the tips, tactics, route, gear, and everything else needed to climb the highest point in Colorado. More importantly, we learned that when the weather gets cold, you need that ice axe in hand to fend off the dangers of wolves. Don’t believe it? Listen HERE, or on iTunes.

Books: On 02/13/13, we talked about many a mountaineer’s inspiration, Into Thin Air, and learned that while the book is enthralling, the made for TV movie is nothing but a bust. And, on 02/27/13, we talked about Colorado’s Fourteeners, the definitive hiking and climbing guide for the peaks of Colorado. Both are great books, and great resources to have!

Coming Shows: We will be back on the air on 3/13/13 with another mystery guest or two. Stay tuned to us on Twitter to find out who or whom!

Giveaways/Sponsors: We are still offering a copy of COLD to anyone that can provide us a 250 word story on mountaineering or other hiking derring-do; and currently we are sponsored by Inthebivvy.com. On 2/27/13, our guests were lucky enough to receive some swag from Racespace.org, the go-to couch surfing site for runners and other racers. If you’re interested in entering any contests or sponsoring the show, contact myself, or thepeakseeker, and be sure to tune in!