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| Harcuvar Mountains ECP Peak, AZ | | -
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| | Harcuvar Mountains ECP Peak, AZ | | | |
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Harcuvar Mountains ECP Peak, AZ
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| Hiking | 14.00 Miles |
4,000 AEG |
| | Hiking | 14.00 Miles | 14 Hrs | | 1.56 mph |
| 4,000 ft AEG | 5 Hrs Break | | | |
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| no partners | | The mission was to explore the ridgeline of the Harcuvar Mountains up to ECP Peak.
An epic storm raged across Maricopa County the night before, so I figured that the odds of additional rain to be slim, as it usually takes a couple of days for the monsoons to build up...though not always.
I did an all-day heat hike last Sunday that was like participating in a Finnish steam room sitting tournament, unbearable to say the least. This hike was to be an all-nighter, taking advantage of the cool temps and wildlife viewing opportunities.
Dark clouds and lightning rolled in around 6 PM and tormented me the better part of the evening, causing much anxiety on account of my exposed position along the ridge-line. The probability of getting struck by lightning is remote, 1 : 280,000. Regardless, I wondered if it was worth it, to tempt fate with metal strapped to my back. Wiser counsel prevailed, as the rain started coming down in buckets, forcing me to scurry into the first available cave.
The cave was small and cramped, just large enough to keep my pack and person dry, though full of annoying insects that were to be my companions for the next three hours. The cloud deck was low and kept me in a cool cloud mist much of the time, with visibility of 30' or less, the mist coalescing into droplets in a swirling mass. The sensation of being 'cold' was unfamiliar, it having been so many hundreds of days since I had last experienced it.
With little to see or do, I just chilled in the cave listening a book on tape, William Bligh's account of his epic journey across the South Seas in an open boat, after the mutiny of his crew on the HMS Bounty. Around 10PM a jet came screaming toward the mountain, as if it were attempting to fly below the storm clouds, unaware of the imposing mountain range before it. The jet engines roared closer and closer, sounding like it would crash at any moment. I fumbled for my camera with a sardonic grin on my face, as I peered into the dark, fully expecting it to light up in flames.
What type of aircraft that few over I am not certain, though I suspect it was a military jet, which the pilot was able to pull up at the last second, so close that the ground shook underfoot.
The next morning, I saw a few more military jets flying maneuvers through the range, but they were not nearly as hardcore as the night pilot, who was flying in zero visibility with nothing but instruments in which to navigate. With my luck, had he crashed the airplane, it would have landed near enough to incinerate me in an inferno of burning jet fuel.
The rest of the night was spent slogging home in wet clothes and boots, seeing no wildlife or anything of interest; my flashlight broke, and the going was slow, but that is how it sometimes goes out in the real world. |
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