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| Hiking | 12.90 Miles |
2,956 AEG |
| | Hiking | 12.90 Miles | | | |
| 2,956 ft AEG | | | | |
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| no partners | | It all started April 15th.
I met the tax accountant in Tempe and we sat at an outdoor table at Chompies, a site renown for its pastrami sandwiches, situated near Arizona State University.
As I gazed across the dusty parking lot and the accountant rattled off figures relating to earned income credit and gross adjusted wages, a profound melancholy wafted over me, like a poisonous sirocco.
"I have to get OUT of here" I said, to no one in particular. The accountant seemed unruffled by my impertinence and continued with her meticulous tallying of my credits and losses for the preceding fiscal year.
Meanwhile, I was already formulating my plan to return to the open spaces, to the desert, with its merciless colors, leached topography, its silences and grandeur, its lack of compromise and its haughty indifference to the clutter of civilization. I would return to Battleship Mountain--site of former terrors and trials.
I set out from First Water Trail at 6am sharp, Sunday April 17th. Having pored over route maps and photographs, I was determined to avoid the blunders I had made on my first ascent of Battleship, back in December.
I took a brisk pace, as I wanted to take advantage of the pleasant morning temperatures and gentle hiking in order to allow plenty of time once I reached the Battleship to slow my pace and find the optimum route.
It worked out to be a picture perfect summit. I topped out at 9:45 am and was treated to a spectacular view---more wondrous and inspiring than I remembered. I dropped my pack, logged in and sat down to gaze at Canyon Lake shimmering in the distance and contemplate a variety of topics ranging from synaptic facilitation to just what the hell I was going to do with the rest of my steadily evaporating life.
Feeling fit and mentally restored, I knew I'd be better equipped to deal with matters in Phoenix--the aggressive ugliness of the city, the corruption and filth, the underhanded tactics of my foes, the god-awful music.
I began picking my way down the Rubik's cube of the Battleship spine. It was getting hot. Extremely hot. Eager to get off the spine and hoping to shorten my walk back through Boulder Canyon, I exited the ridgeline too early. This resulted in a very steep, unpleasant and lengthy descent to the canyon floor. The temperatures seemed to soar by the minute.
After what seemed an eternity I reached a sweltering Boulder Canyon. I took advantage of some unidentified vegetation providing a vague semblance of shade, in order to lie down for a few minutes, as I'd become very overheated. As I had a long way to go, I resolved to be as conservative as possible with water. I brought about 3.5 liters, which I expected to be plenty.
After hiking through the canyon for about 20 minutes, I felt in my back pocket for my iPhone. Gone. It must have fallen out when I lay on the ground. I returned the way I came and eventually found it. This cost me dearly as I was feeling faint and nauseous from the heat and was making rather slow progress back.
I plodded on through Boulder Canyon. The heat was relentless, forcing me to sit down repeatedly and let my brain cool down a few degrees. I started getting concerned about the water situation and pulled the hydrating bladder out of my pack. I had about two solid gulps left. This was not good.
Ok..well what can you do? I struggled on and as I was near the point of collapse, arrived at the trailhead. Dehydrated. Exhausted. Alive.
I still didn't have any water, so I drove to a native-inspired curio shop where I bought three large bottles, to pour over my damaged fuel rods. The two hydrogen molecules, cleverly bonded to the oxygen, never tasted so good!
Bottom line: I desperately wanted to get one last serious hike in, but it was already too late in the season for this sort of thing. At least for me. |
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Route Editor
Route Scout
