Brown's Ranch

Last week I ventured into the northern reaches of the McDowell Sonoran Preserve to check out the trails of Brown's Ranch. I was drawn here by the two mountains, each in close proximity to the other, at the ranch: Cone Mountain and Brown's Mountain. Almost a Saturday morning ritual at this point, I awoke early and was out the door while my wife and kids slept. My reward was a wide open parking lot at Brown's Ranch Trailhead. After making time for a banana at the trailhead, I set out along the Upper Ranch Trail, a perfect warm-up trail splitting the two mountains to the north and west.

The Cone Mountain Trail

I circled Cone Mountain in a counterclockwise direction along the aptly named Cone Mountain Trail before crossing back over the Upper Ranch Trail and onto the Wrangler Trail. Cone Mountain hadn't looked very intimidating, but there was no trail to the top. A bit of a downer, yes, but the anticipation as I approached Brown's Mountain, knowing there was a spur trail to the summit, proved effective in driving away the disappointment of Cone.

Cone Mountain

Looking at side by side pictures of Brown's Mountain and Devil's Tower in Wyoming, I don't really see much resemblance. But on this particular day my mind made a connection between the two. As the mountain drew nearer, it dominated the skyline. There was something about how it rose 3250' into the air before stopping abruptly to offer what looked from the ground to be a smooth, level surface, perfect for landing, say, a helicopter. Or perhaps an alien spacecraft. I stared at the mountain to the point where I was now entranced by it, fully engaged with the huge mound of rock and earth, and entertaining notions of later paying homage by constructing a replica in my living room.

Me, if I had spent a few more hours in the sun

Brown's Mountain

Fortunately, passing clouds provided much needed shade and, after a gulp or two of water, I started regaining my composure. And just in time, too, as ditching the Wrangler Trail for Brown's Mountain Trail signaled the beginning of the slow ascent to the peak. This uphill section, save for the final 0.2-mile summit spur, wasn't very strenuous. It was interesting to watch the mountain change before my eyes as my perspective shifted following the trail up and around to its backside.

Brown's Mtn takes on a different look 0.2 miles from the top

I joined a few other hikers taking a breather on Brown's summit. After a snack and the obligatory picture-taking, it was time to head down and out. I completed the remainder of Brown's Mountain Trail and returned to the trailhead via the Upper Ranch.

View from Brown's Mtn. Cone Mtn is in middle of picture

This turned out to be a particularly enjoyable 7.7-mile hike. I say this not only because of the summit spur and the small crowds, but also because of the trail itself. Unlike many of the other trails in this area, which are frequently rocky and sometimes treacherous, the trails at Brown's Ranch are sandy smooth for the most part. With such an agreeable walking surface beneath my feet, the miles seemed to melt away like butter. Of course any trail easy on the feet also seems to attract scores of mountain bikers so keep an ear and an eye out for them, lest they run you over. Though bikers are supposed to yield to hikers, we all know that isn't always the case. So until next time, be safe out there and happy hiking!

   

Quartz Trail

Easter Sunday typically means baskets full of colored eggs, Peeps, and other candies all piled on top of another on a bed of plastic grass. In Phoenix, like most weekends, it also means hiking. At least for me it does. This Easter we homed in on the Quartz Trail in the McDowell Sonoran Preserve.

Heading into the mountains along the Quartz Trail

From the Quartz Trailhead parking, we walked across 104th Street to join the main trail via a short access trail. The Quartz Trail runs roughly east and west through here. Turn right on the trail and 0.7 miles later the Quartz terminates at its juncture with the WestWorld Trail. Turn left and the trail will take you 4.2 mile into the mountains before coming to an end somewhere in Box Canyon. We turned left, naturally, and began an easy, gradual ascent into the mountains.

Slight but steady uphill hiking along the Quartz Trail

The trail was quiet on this day. We saw a few other hikers and some mountain bikers but nothing even remotely resembling a crowd. I saw a white speck on the mountain in the distance and figured it to be the quartz outcropping from which the trail likely received its name. I don't know if it was the relentless desert sun or what, but for some reason Rodney Dangerfield's line from the boat scene in Caddyshack (Over there! I wanna go over there!) popped into my head. I'd read about a steep spur trail leading to this prominent outcropping, so I knew beforehand I was going to check it out.

Prominent quartz deposit on the mountain ahead

The spur to the quartz outcropping isn't marked, but at this point on the trail it's fairly obvious where the trail leads. In several other places where signage does not exist, however, it's easy to wander off the Quartz unintentionally. The last sign I can remember seeing was at the junction of the Quartz and Lost Dog Wash trails. That leaves two miles of official trail unidentified. And as the quartz trail winds through Box Canyon, the trail can be hard to follow. With no signs for guidance, determining what is and what isn't the trail certainly gets tricky at times. Someone before me recognized this navigational void by arranging rocks in such a way to indicate the direction of the trail in a couple of places where it is particularly confusing.

But before the confusion of Box Canyon, the Quartz Trail cuts a wide path straight and true underneath that large quartz deposit on the side of the mountain. I did of course turn right on the spur and, yes, it basically runs straight up the mountain. The good news is that it is not a very long hike - maybe seven or eight minutes, certainly less than ten. The reward is your view from the outcropping. I was surprised at how much elevation I'd gained.

Quartz Trail passes underneath the quartz outcropping

The quartz up close (with water bottle in foreground)

View from the quartz outcropping

Back down on the main trail, I continued to follow it deep into Box Canyon, paying careful attention as the path narrowed and blurred. According to the map, the trail dead-ends two miles after the junction with Dog Wash, and I reached a point where I kept expecting to see a sign indicating the end of the trail at every turn. I never saw this sign, and the trail - if it was still an authorized trail at this point - was becoming so overgrown that I finally just turned around, figuring I must be two miles down the trail from the Dog Wash by now.

Full steam ahead on the Quartz Trail until . . .

 . . . things began to get messy in Box Canyon

The hike out was the same hike in reverse and all downhill, which is the best way to end any hike. Save for the spur trail to the quartz deposit, this is a pretty easy walk in the desert. The map shows it having a 1,104-foot elevation gain, but it was such a gradual incline that it just didn't feel like that was even possible. The optional spur trail is always available if you are serious about your aerobic conditioning, which we all should be. So this trail has a lot of positives, not least of which is the fact that it offers ample parking without the daunting crowds. For sure, the Quartz Trail has earned our repeat business. We'll hike it again, and when we do, maybe we'll see you out there!

Sunrise and Andrews-Kinsey Trails

For the second consecutive Saturday, I headed to the McDowell Sonoran Preserve's Sunrise Trailhead. The first time around I arrived too late and was forced to make other plans, as there was no available parking. This week I made sure to arrive early and secured a spot in the nearly empty overflow lot.

It's a 0.2-mile walk from the overflow parking to the trailhead and another 4.2 miles to where the Andrews-Kinsey Trail crosses into Fountain Hills Preserve, the location of which would serve as my turnaround point. In between, there would be more than a 1,000-foot elevation gain. You're actually gaining elevation as you move toward the trailhead, but once you hit the trail itself it's game on.

Climbing through a sea of Saguaro

At the junction of the Sunrise Trail and the Sunrise Peak Spur, I could see and hear many other hikers already on the spur making their way to and from the peak. Because I had visited this same peak only a month or so prior, I decided to skip the view and stay straight on Sunrise. Past the peak, it's a short hike to the junction of the Sunrise and the Andrews-Kinsey. I headed north on Andrews-Kinsey in the direction of my planned turnaround two miles away. Now further away from the trailhead, the crowds really started to thin out. In fact, I don't recall seeing anybody on the Andrews-Kinsey Trail until I was well into my return trip.

View from the Andrews-Kinsey Trail

I stopped for a snack just inside the border of the Fountain Hills Preserve. I don't remember exactly when I first observed the two helicopters, one chopper appearing to hover while the other circled, but I don't believe it was long after my nutrition break. The helicopters would come in and out of my view for the remainder of trip, depending upon my location on the trail. At some point I was able to get a good view of the landscape beneath the choppers and could see traffic was backed up for what appeared to be miles. I feared there had been a tragic accident on the roadway. Selfishly, I hoped the wreckage would be cleared before I was down from the mountain.

Fountain Park in the distance, as seen from Andrews-Kinsey

As I drew closer to Sunrise Peak, I could again see and hear all the people. Again, I stayed straight on Sunrise and began the descent to the trailhead. I passed a lot of folks heading up the mountain and a few people who were making their way down. One thing I've noticed about some people is they're happy to take as much room as you're willing to give them. Move to the right and many people will stroll merrily down the middle of the trail, brushing shoulders with you as they pass. This goes for sidewalks, too, as I've observed this phenomenon on paved and unpaved trails alike. I especially like when two or more people are walking side-by-side and simply refuse to humble themselves to the point of walking single-file until the oncoming pedestrian traffic clears. Sometimes it feels like a game of chicken. But I digress - just an observation of mine and another reason I like to get as far away as possible from the crowds.

A splash of color on the last full day of winter

Ready for final descent, near the Peak Spur Trail

As I made my way back to overflow parking, I was closer than ever to the hovering helicopter. My chances of a leisurely drive home weren't looking so good. Heading west on Via Linda, I soon encountered the traffic jam, which, fortunately enough for me, was affecting only the east-bound side. I still didn't know what was going on, just that it had been like this for hours. Only later that evening did I learn Donald Trump had been campaigning in Fountain Hills and protesters had blocked the road. Politics notwithstanding, I was just glad to know there hadn't been some kind of horrible traffic accident. So, all's well that ends well, right? Nobody died and I turned in an 8.8-mile hike, breezed home with the top down on the open road, and made it to my daughter's soccer game on time. Another outstanding day in the Great Outdoors! 

Ringtail Trailhead to 136th Street Trailhead

My plan last Saturday was to get up early and hike an out-and-back from the 136th Street Trailhead in the McDowell Sonoran Preserve. The execution phase began without incident after waking up early enough to brew a pot of coffee. But something not completely unpredictable, yet not highly anticipated happened, causing the synchronicity between plan and execution to forever sever. Looking back a week later, I see the critical flaw in my plan was not building in enough time for a second cup of coffee. The quiet moments spent sipping a second cup cost me the opportunity to claim the last available parking space in the Sunrise Trailhead overflow parking. I missed it by 15 seconds.

If you're paying attention, you may wonder what was I even doing at the Sunrise Trailhead? Wasn't I going to the 136th St. Trailhead? Indeed I was, but the 136th St. Trailhead, unbeknownst to me, was closed for construction so I resorted to Plan B and the Sunrise Trailhead, where I watched the car ahead snag the only remaining spot in overflow. Just for giggles, I checked out the main parking area for Sunrise. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing available. After a final swing and a miss through the overflow lot, I realized I had no Plan C. Who has a Plan C for day hiking, anyway? By this point, you usually just go home and do something else. But because I was in the neighborhood, I thought I would drop by the Ringtail Trailhead off of 128th Street. When I saw there was plenty of available parking, I knew I had a Plan C in progress. I would figure out the hike on the fly.

Sunrise Trail

Moving north on the Ringtail Trail, I turned right at the junction with the Sunrise Trail and headed into the mountain range. After 1.5 miles of uphill, I reached the plateau where the 136th Street Spur joins the Sunrise. Though the 136th St. Trailhead was closed, the trail itself appeared to be open. I could stay straight on the Sunrise or head down the spur trail, which had been the main feature of my aborted Plan A. Taking the spur meant I would be taking a shorter walk (7 miles) than originally planned, but after reading the warning sign at the plateau junction, I knew I couldn't pass up the challenge. The 136th it would be.

Challenge Accepted!

From the plateau, the spur trail descends quickly into the wash below. The wash is where the trail becomes technical at times, as well as difficult to follow. The important thing to remember here is that as long as you're in the wash, you are on the trail. The first steep drop-off I encountered, I looked around for signs of a trail which neatly sidestepped it. When I didn't see one, I thought of the sign back at the junction and engaged all four limbs in safely making my way down the rocky drop-off. I was thankful to be wearing the Camelbak my wife had recently purchased so that my hands were free to assist in those instances when scrambling was necessary.

Scrambling is a must on the 136th St. Spur

The trail went underneath two overpasses before the boulders and rocks gave way to a sandy, beach-like terrain offering just enough resistance so that I was soon longing for those rocky drop-offs. After a short while, I realized I was standing at the closed 136th Street Trailhead. I verified this on my map and took a little nutrition break consisting of a granola bar and a small box of raisins before turning around to retrace my steps back to the Ringtail Trailhead.

Heading South on the 136th Spur

Sandy-like Conditions on the Southern End of the 136th

The hike back up the 136th spur wasn't as bad as what I feared, but of course I had already previewed it and knew exactly what to expect. A quarter of a mile prior to the junction with the Surprise Trail, the 136th St. Spur turns steep. It's no longer a technical trail at this point, but it is a heart-pounder, to be sure. Once atop the plateau, however, the hard work is over, as it is all downhill to the parking lot.

Beautiful views near the top of the 136 St. Spur Trail

The 136th St. Spur was a nice change-of-pace to the typical, everyday hiking. It is one of those trails you will look forward to visiting again and again, if you enjoy technical hiking. In retrospect, it made no difference that I drank that second cup of coffee. I still found my way to the trail I originally planned to hike and, though inconvenienced ever so slightly, persevered to have an exceptional outdoor experience. My lesson learned: always have a Plan C prepared beforehand or be willing to make one up on the fly. Until next time . . . happy trails!  

Bell Pass Trail

I was back in the McDowell Mountains last Saturday to tackle the Bell Pass Trail. Originally, the plan was to hike to the end of the trail and back. At some point midweek, however, I decided to utilize some of the connecting trails and turn this out-and-back trek into a 10.5-mile loop.

At 7:18 a.m. I headed for the mountains via the Saguaro Trail. I took note of the time because I had to be at my daughter's soccer game by noon. If I wasn't at least halfway through the loop by 9:30 a.m., I would have to turn around. Because of this time crunch, I was setting the trail ablaze. My brand new hiking shoes may have had something to do with this. My feet had never had it so good. My legs may have been singing the blues, my feet were loving me Cadillac style.

Peekaboo Sunshine along the Windgate Pass Trail

Before I knew it, I was at Inspiration Viewpoint. I had passed by here in the opposite direction just two weeks prior, so I paused only for a drink of water and a quick once-over of my surroundings before getting back to business. Thanks to an early start, I had been hiking almost exclusively in the shade of the mountains up to this point. I would lose this coverage at Windgate Pass, but regain it 3.2 miles later at Bell Pass. In Arizona, it's always worth mentioning anytime you find shade.

The Bell Pass Trail makes its way across the terrain

The trail had been downhill from Windgate Pass, but turning onto the Bell Pass Trail meant I would now be moving on up in the sky, just like George and Weezy. But before making it all the way to the top, I took a detour along the Prospector Trail to the scenic view, where I enjoyed a box of raisins and some refreshing sips of warm water. Returning again to the Bell Pass Trail, it was back to work getting up the mountain. Not until reaching Bell Pass would I allow myself to relax. When I did make it there ahead of schedule, I felt a sense of accomplishment but, at the same time, wished I hadn't been in such a hurry.

Fountain Park, as seen from the Bell Pass Trail

Prospector Trail

View from Bell Pass

I read an article from May '07 titled, The Workout: Hike Farther, Hike Stronger, on backpacker.com quoting Jonathan Chang, a sports-medicine orthopedic surgeon, who said though it doesn't feel as tiring, an individual actually spends three times as much energy walking downhill as walking up. The reason, according to the article, is that when you descend, you actually lengthen your quadriceps muscles as you contract them. When I checked my phone later in the day, it showed I had climbed the equivalent of 188 floors. The trail map lists an elevation change of 1,202 feet for the Bell Pass Trail. In other words, there was a lot of lengthening and contracting and calorie consumption going on as I made my way down the last two miles of the mountain trail. I should've packed another box of raisins!

Descending along the Bell Pass Trail

The Bell Pass Trail terminates at the Gateway Loop Trail and this is when I began to see more hikers, many of whom were just getting started for the day. I was glad to be coming off the trail just as the masses were forming. Exiting the trail less than 3.5 hours after starting out, I had plenty of time to spare and arrived at the soccer field before my wife and daughter, meaning everyone was happy. Morning in the McDowell Sonoran Preserve: it's a great way to get your day started right! 

Hiking the Tom's Thumb-East End-Windmill-Windgate Pass Loop

I headed out yesterday to Tom's Thumb Trailhead for my most ambitious hike since arriving in Arizona at the beginning of the year. I got started a little later than planned and paid the price in the way of trail traffic for roughly the first 1.5 miles. Even with a seemingly never-ending series of switchbacks, it is a steep climb to the junction of the Tom's Thumb and East End trails. The trail is also narrow in many places, causing congestion akin to what we experience when we're trailing a Sunday driver on a two-lane highway and unable to pass due to the barrage of oncoming traffic.

Hikers were few and far in-between along the East End Trail. The trail was rocky and was leading me back downhill. Silly me, I expected to maintain all that elevation I'd just worked so hard to achieve! Instead, it was down, down, down so that the only thing missing was a burning ring of fire. By the time I reached the Windmill Trail, I'd given back 1,041 feet in elevation.

View from East End Trail

After just a tenth of a mile, the Windmill Trail gives way to the Windgate Pass Trail, which turned out to be the least demanding portion of the 10-mile loop. In fact, the hiking along this section was quite pleasant indeed. A fairly remote part of the Preserve, the traffic along this trail was minimal.

Windgate Pass Trail

Two miles later, Windgate Pass connects with the southern terminus of Tom's Thumb. For a short while, Tom's Thumb was merely a continuation of the leisurely hiking I'd been enjoying for the last 2+ miles. Then, Dr. Jekyll morphed into Mr. Hyde. It was up, up and away, but there was no beautiful balloon carrying me to the top. This was basically a repeat of what I'd done earlier on the other side of the mountain. The only difference was that it was now afternoon, and there weren't nearly as many people on the trail.

Once again at the top, I was relieved to be coming down the mountain for the last time. By now, however, the descent was proving more painful than the ascent. One mile to go . . . a half-mile to go . . . these trail markings indicating such small incremental differences wasn't helping my mindset any down the stretch. Much like when I run, I just wanted this thing to be over.

Happy days were here again when I reached the pavilion at the trailhead and took a load off in the shade for a few moments. Now, I can't say I won't hike this loop again, but it might be a while before I do so. This is certainly what I would consider a strenuous hike. My single piece of advice for improving upon my experience is to avoid the large crowds heading up the mountain from the trailhead by getting started early in the morning.

      
 

Hiking in Scottsdale, Arizona

I rang in the new year with a new job in a new location: Phoenix, Arizona. A wonderful place for the outdoor enthusiast I'd been told, and so far I agree. We've been fortunate enough to find our way to the trail each of the last five Saturdays, with each outing providing me experiences heretofore unimagined. A far cry from the plains of Kansas or the hills of Tennessee, the only other places I've ever really known, my introduction to hiking in the desert southwest has me filled with as much anticipation for Saturday mornings now as when I was a wide-eyed kid up before dawn, waiting on Hong Kong Phooey to air.

Our inauguration into the desert was a 5.5-mile loop beginning and ending at the Gateway to the McDowell Sonoran Preserve.

McDowell Sonoran Preserve - Desert Park Trail

Desert Park Trail

On our second Saturday, we checked out the Pinnacle Peak Trail. This is a popular 3.5-mile out-and-back trail with some spectacular views.

We headed out from the Lost Dog Wash Trailhead the following Saturday and hiked a 5.1-mile loop to Taliesin Overlook and back.

The 7.2-mile Gooseneck Trail was next on our list. This is an easy, level stroll through the desert. We started at Tom's Thumb Trailhead and made our way north to Fraesfield Trailhead. Not the most popular trail among hikers here, we did encounter quite a few mountain bikers and a couple of runners along the Gooseneck.

Last Saturday we returned to the Lost Dog Wash Trailhead for a 7-mile hike along the Sunrise Trail to Sunrise Peak. This hike turned out to be my favorite of the five we've done thus far, but we're just getting started here. I can't wait to discover our next trail, and I'll be sure to keep you posted.

At the top of Sunrise Peak