Bagging Cat Mountain - January 4, 2020
I love cats. I really do. I very likely have “ailurophilia.” (Cat addiction.)
And I love hiking – especially bushwhacking and going uphill.
So when Laur suggested we “bag” Cat Mountain, I was all in. We’ve driven by it many times and, to be honest, it doesn’t look very climbable. Except with ropes and spikes - and that is not only not in my league, it isn’t covered by our extended health insurance. Something we’re always keenly aware of when in the United States.
Laur said, “There is a back way up. There should be cairns. There is one part that looks difficult, but nothing more than we’ve done before.” I asked if there was a trail. No, but there should be cairns and, said Laur, “I know the way roughly.” When Laur says “roughly” it mean he doesn’t have clue, but is willing to give it a try. Yee haw! [Editor’s note: I have HALF a clue!]
Now I think the both of us had some misgivings about the hike before we even got out the door. Laur insisted that we bring an extra layer of clothing “just in case something happens.” And we both got really clumsy at the parking lot – dropping our polls, tripping over our own feet, etc.
We got to the base of the mountain and looked way, way, up. Yah, it was going to be demanding but Laur loves trail-finding and I love podcasts (which I listen to while we hike. Incidentally it was a seven part series on Lyme disease. The irony that we were hiking in deer country was not lost on me.)
We got about four fifths of the way up the mountain – not without having to turn around and try another approach – but we like that kind of thing. We call it “adventure hiking.” We have the same perspective when we are not sure what cycle route to take. We call it “adventure cycling.” Sounds so much better than “Got lost, had to retrace our steps…”
There was a little clearing where folks hang out before attempting the final ascent. I said to hubs, “I need to eat something before I try that.” It did look daunting. But heck, we’d bagged Bushmaster Peak and very few people have. And I looked up and saw some folks weaving their way down at a very good rate.
They stopped to talk to us. There were just a little younger than we were and we asked about the last bit – “the crux.” They weren’t phased. They’d done this hike before. “OK,” I said to Laur, “Let’s go before I lose my nerve…”
→ Insert from Laur: I hadn’t told Jan about the exposure. I didn’t want to spook her. I mean, maybe it wasn’t bad at all, right? I also hadn’t told her about the sign someone spray-painted on the edge of a cliff near the summit: “Here is where Roger fell.” Nor did I tell her about the Tucson news video I found showing a hiker being air-lifted out in a helicopter sling after falling off Cat. I figured those pieces of info should only be shared on a “need to know” basis.← You can read Laur’s full report at https://www.facebook.com/laurence.steven.7
Within a few minutes we were at “the crux.” The rocks were so large that Laur would have to pull me up while I was practically dangling over an exposed cliff. I managed to do one block of about five and said to Laur, “I don’t think I can do this.” Laur knows I’m not one to back down from a challenge. “Sure you can, Jannie. Just don’t look down.” Laur does not have a fear of heights. He drives our hike friend Bob crazy when he teeters at the end of a cliff trying to get a particular picture. I just turn away and say to Bob, “My pension stays the same whether he lives or dies.” I’m not heartless, I’m just trying to not freak out. Laur is going to do what Laur does.
With great difficulty, Laur pulled me up over the second big rock. Why so much difficulty? Because I started shaking really hard and I couldn’t get my limbs to move. I lay there on the ledge and said, “That’s it. I’m done. You can go ahead. I cannot move.” And I could not.
Laur did try to scale boulder three but it too was a toughie. And it would involve leaving his quaking wife unattended on a ridge. He did a quick calculation. “Yes, I could probably do this and if she slips off, my pension stays the same. But I’d have to find another wife to do Yikes Hiking and this is a rare breed.”
[Editor’s Note: I was at my limit too. Jan’s response: I don’t know about that!]
(An aside, we have this little joke at Laur’s expense. If you want someone to develop a health problem, have them go with Laur on a few Yikes Hikes. He has a hard time recruiting and retaining hikers for adventure hikes – other than his faithful wifey who is as crazy as he is.)
Somehow Laur managed to pass me and throw our packs over boulder two without them heading straight on down. Then he helped me down boulder two. Then he threw our gear again, and helped me over boulder one. We were both so disappointed. As we scrambled down the rest of the mountain Laur was scanning the Cat for other approaches.
We passed by a couple of hikers on the main trail. Normally, we would have been able to say, “See that peak! We were up there today!” Instead we just mumbled our way along, our heads turned down, our tails between our legs. I felt particularly awful because I knew that if I hadn’t been there, Laur might just have made it. Or he’d have pitched off third boulder. That too is a possibility.
On the ride home, I suggested he do some more research. Find out if there was another approach because I was ready to give it another try the next day. And he did try – and what he came up with were more videos of the horror show that is called “the adrenalin-pumping crux move.” See https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BPWl6VOYfh0
We decided to take Wednesday off from hiking. Get a little exercise in the morning (Jan) and then go to see the Star Wars moving. After I got back from my morning jog walk, Laur was sitting there just agrinnin’. No he hadn’t found a new approach. But he had found a new mountain – the Golden Gate. It’s in the same area – which we like because there is no snow. (Our usual range is snow-covered. Mountain hiking with cleats might raised a few eyebrows with our private insurer.) And Golden Gate is even higher than Cat Mountain and it’s got more cairns and there shouldn’t be any terrible surprises.
Yee haw! I’m on. A New Year, a new mountain to climb. I cannot ask for more…
(And yes, we do go on to bag Golden Gate. A purrfect way to spend New Year’s Day.)
And I love hiking – especially bushwhacking and going uphill.
So when Laur suggested we “bag” Cat Mountain, I was all in. We’ve driven by it many times and, to be honest, it doesn’t look very climbable. Except with ropes and spikes - and that is not only not in my league, it isn’t covered by our extended health insurance. Something we’re always keenly aware of when in the United States.
Laur said, “There is a back way up. There should be cairns. There is one part that looks difficult, but nothing more than we’ve done before.” I asked if there was a trail. No, but there should be cairns and, said Laur, “I know the way roughly.” When Laur says “roughly” it mean he doesn’t have clue, but is willing to give it a try. Yee haw! [Editor’s note: I have HALF a clue!]
Now I think the both of us had some misgivings about the hike before we even got out the door. Laur insisted that we bring an extra layer of clothing “just in case something happens.” And we both got really clumsy at the parking lot – dropping our polls, tripping over our own feet, etc.
We got to the base of the mountain and looked way, way, up. Yah, it was going to be demanding but Laur loves trail-finding and I love podcasts (which I listen to while we hike. Incidentally it was a seven part series on Lyme disease. The irony that we were hiking in deer country was not lost on me.)
We got about four fifths of the way up the mountain – not without having to turn around and try another approach – but we like that kind of thing. We call it “adventure hiking.” We have the same perspective when we are not sure what cycle route to take. We call it “adventure cycling.” Sounds so much better than “Got lost, had to retrace our steps…”
There was a little clearing where folks hang out before attempting the final ascent. I said to hubs, “I need to eat something before I try that.” It did look daunting. But heck, we’d bagged Bushmaster Peak and very few people have. And I looked up and saw some folks weaving their way down at a very good rate.
They stopped to talk to us. There were just a little younger than we were and we asked about the last bit – “the crux.” They weren’t phased. They’d done this hike before. “OK,” I said to Laur, “Let’s go before I lose my nerve…”
→ Insert from Laur: I hadn’t told Jan about the exposure. I didn’t want to spook her. I mean, maybe it wasn’t bad at all, right? I also hadn’t told her about the sign someone spray-painted on the edge of a cliff near the summit: “Here is where Roger fell.” Nor did I tell her about the Tucson news video I found showing a hiker being air-lifted out in a helicopter sling after falling off Cat. I figured those pieces of info should only be shared on a “need to know” basis.← You can read Laur’s full report at https://www.facebook.com/laurence.steven.7
Within a few minutes we were at “the crux.” The rocks were so large that Laur would have to pull me up while I was practically dangling over an exposed cliff. I managed to do one block of about five and said to Laur, “I don’t think I can do this.” Laur knows I’m not one to back down from a challenge. “Sure you can, Jannie. Just don’t look down.” Laur does not have a fear of heights. He drives our hike friend Bob crazy when he teeters at the end of a cliff trying to get a particular picture. I just turn away and say to Bob, “My pension stays the same whether he lives or dies.” I’m not heartless, I’m just trying to not freak out. Laur is going to do what Laur does.
With great difficulty, Laur pulled me up over the second big rock. Why so much difficulty? Because I started shaking really hard and I couldn’t get my limbs to move. I lay there on the ledge and said, “That’s it. I’m done. You can go ahead. I cannot move.” And I could not.
Laur did try to scale boulder three but it too was a toughie. And it would involve leaving his quaking wife unattended on a ridge. He did a quick calculation. “Yes, I could probably do this and if she slips off, my pension stays the same. But I’d have to find another wife to do Yikes Hiking and this is a rare breed.”
[Editor’s Note: I was at my limit too. Jan’s response: I don’t know about that!]
(An aside, we have this little joke at Laur’s expense. If you want someone to develop a health problem, have them go with Laur on a few Yikes Hikes. He has a hard time recruiting and retaining hikers for adventure hikes – other than his faithful wifey who is as crazy as he is.)
Somehow Laur managed to pass me and throw our packs over boulder two without them heading straight on down. Then he helped me down boulder two. Then he threw our gear again, and helped me over boulder one. We were both so disappointed. As we scrambled down the rest of the mountain Laur was scanning the Cat for other approaches.
We passed by a couple of hikers on the main trail. Normally, we would have been able to say, “See that peak! We were up there today!” Instead we just mumbled our way along, our heads turned down, our tails between our legs. I felt particularly awful because I knew that if I hadn’t been there, Laur might just have made it. Or he’d have pitched off third boulder. That too is a possibility.
On the ride home, I suggested he do some more research. Find out if there was another approach because I was ready to give it another try the next day. And he did try – and what he came up with were more videos of the horror show that is called “the adrenalin-pumping crux move.” See https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BPWl6VOYfh0
We decided to take Wednesday off from hiking. Get a little exercise in the morning (Jan) and then go to see the Star Wars moving. After I got back from my morning jog walk, Laur was sitting there just agrinnin’. No he hadn’t found a new approach. But he had found a new mountain – the Golden Gate. It’s in the same area – which we like because there is no snow. (Our usual range is snow-covered. Mountain hiking with cleats might raised a few eyebrows with our private insurer.) And Golden Gate is even higher than Cat Mountain and it’s got more cairns and there shouldn’t be any terrible surprises.
Yee haw! I’m on. A New Year, a new mountain to climb. I cannot ask for more…
(And yes, we do go on to bag Golden Gate. A purrfect way to spend New Year’s Day.)