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| Hiking | 8.00 Miles |
1,500 AEG |
| | Hiking | 8.00 Miles | 7 Hrs | | 1.60 mph |
| 1,500 ft AEG | 2 Hrs Break | 35 LBS Pack | | |
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| no partners | | The mission was to hike the north face of Coffeepot Mountain.
Rumor had it that the Ajo Border Patrol Tactical Unit, BORTAC, had recently run a few ops in the area and temporarily shut down the corridor. It seemed like a good time scrounge around and see what was left behind, perhaps find a roll of cash or something.
The summer heat has forced changes in schedules, with all movement now restricted to nights and early mornings. Men and wildlife find ways to cope, seeking refuge underground the majority of the day. This creates opportunities for clandestine travel, as it is easy to go unnoticed if you hike during the midday hours. It is kind of like the old saying: “If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?” The same holds true at Coffeepot Mountain.
The hike began at the Pipeline Road around noon. The heat was raging but I had too many other things on my mind to notice. It was a good idea to have the backpack loaded down with water and ice, which worked wonders keeping body temps normal and morale high. The local songbirds seemed oblivious to the triple digit temperatures, singing throughout the day as I made my way across the wasteland. Mourning doves, cactus wrens, and curved bill thrashers all made an appearance. The quail were hunkered down and quiet, but they will make quite a ruckus if danger is near, which comes in handy sometimes.
The organ pipe cacti at Coffeepot Mountain are always a treat to be around, especially this time of year, when they are bearing fruit and flowers. The fruit is part of the traditional diet of native peoples and said to taste like watermelons, but I did not try one, being a food wimp of sorts. The flowers open at night and are typically pollinated by bats. It would be a cool picture to get a shot of a bat feeding on the nectar, but that would require an infinite amount of patience to sit there waiting for bats, like watching grass grow.
Other than five gallons of pilfered gasoline, no treasure was found on this outing. It is always fun out there, regardless of the outcome. The lawless desert has a way of growing on you over time; it creates a heightened sense of things, a quickening.
The Borderlands are a throwback to times of old, where honor and face means everything. Violent men impose their will, discipline is maintained, and the machine rolls on. It is one of the few places in the U.S. where a person can exercise absolute freewill, freedom to do as he pleases, to be kind or to be cruel, ruthless or compassionate; far removed from the constraints of civil society.
They told me I could be anything I wanted, so I became a god. |
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Wildflowers Observation Isolated
Ironwoods and organ pipe cactus |
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