Hualapai Mountain Park
Summits #26 and #27--September 4, 2023
As noted with my last feeble ascent of Mt. Catherine (#25) a couple of weeks ago, I was the lucky recipient of a case of Covid, as the rapid test attested when I got home. By the next day, the funky feeling had already subsided and I retested negative a few days later (twice). In the interim, Kris restricted me to the loft over the garage, yet brought me her usual excellent fixin’s morning, noon and night. I’m lucky she still likes me.
So covid. That's my excuse for not getting up another peak for two-plus weeks. Enough bemoaning.
My rule is that all 70 summits need to be places I’ve never been to before. And since I’ve been up so many mountains within a reasonable drive from home, I needed to think outside the box. So I did the logical thing and snagged a cheap flight from Bellingham to sunny Las Vegas on September 3rd. I found a little Outlander SUV to rent, and hit the road for eight days of peakbagging in AZ, NM and CO.
I was determined to include a Colorado 14-er in my repertoire of climbs this year, having hardly touched the Rockies in years past, save for a two-day trip to Estes Park about six years ago. Climbing a 14-er, therefore, was a prime motivator. Better do it soon, I’ve thought, while I’m fit and the knees are still working. The San Juan Mountains north of Durango won the coin toss. The basic strategy was to zip down to I-40 at Kingman and head east.
But that part of the story comes later.
After a short night camped and cramped in the car on a dirt road somewhere near Santa Claus AZ, my first stop was Hualapai Mountain Park, named for the tribe that has long occupied the region. The reservation lies 30 miles to the north and adjacent to the Grand Canyon. The tribe developed the famous glass Skywalk there in 2007. "Hualapai" means People of the Tall Pines.
I saw in my Gaia GPS app that trails led to two 8,000-foot summits, Hualapai and Aspen Peak. They seemed to offer a perfect beginning, with possibly two summits on my first day. The acclimation to some altitude would be helpful as well.
I pulled into the park at 7:00 am, enjoyed my yogurt and granola, and was quickly joined by a troop of holy-roller hikers, i.e., ten lively women from Kingman who circled in prayer, sang like gospel sisters, and closed with an emphatic, simultaneous Amen! I took their photo on request and got the hell up the trail before I was somehow recruited, inducted or baptised.
A sign at the start warned of a bear in the area, so I clacked my trekking poles on the rocks accordingly. The trail climbed in forest, then scooted around cliffs and stony outcrops with some pretty nice views.
I soon caught up with a woman with a mean looking dog who instantly went into her story of reaching the top of Hualapai ten years before and running into a bear. She said the bear growled because he wanted her to go away. On her way down, she claimed to have seen a mountain lion perched on a rock next to the trail, then a rattlesnake to boot. Okay, then. Plenty to watch out for.
The trail turned into a steep, eroded road grade that suddenly ended about 100 feet below the summit. I did not like the look of scrambling further given heavy brush and cliffy terrain. Damn, I should have read the route descriptions online more carefully. Rule book says I can't count it if I can't get up it.
But I had a strong cell signal at 8,300 feet and found a good write-up online. Go back down the road, it said, and look for a boot track leading up from a stack of rocks. I found the rocks. The route looked iffy and vaguely rattlesnakey, but it did the trick and I soon joined about 100,000 lady bugs crawling over the summit boulders. Hualapai Mountain, #26, was in the bag.
Next up was Aspen Peak. I retraced steps for a mile or more then diverged up that scenic side trail, once again feeling thwarted near the top. The hike turned into a scramble without many clues on which way to go.
So I just clambered up and found myself on top being buzzed by about two dozen ravens. I almost expected to be dive-bombed, as if I'd invaded an avian restricted area. But what self-respecting raven nests in September? I concluded they were all just having some noisy fun jousting in the updrafts.
In any event, the day was highly rewarding, not just with summits #26 and #27, but the chance to see a special new place that had not been on my radar previously. Definitely worth a visit. And no bears, no cats, no snakes, which is mostly a good thing when you're hiking solo.
Next stop: Flagstaff.