The Hills are Alive with the Sound of … - January 26, 2019
Well, I wouldn’t call it Music. More likely huffin’ and puffin’. On Monday, Laur and I hiked Ventana Canyon up to the “The Window” – a lookout on the top of Pusch Ridge, at 6880 feet. It’s located in the north end of Tucson – an hour’s drive away. Distance from home to hike matters when you’re doing an all day hike.
At first, it didn’t sound too badly. 6.2 miles up, 6.2 miles down – a 20 km out and back hike. What could possibly go wrong? Well, nothing actually went wrong – it went “as planned” for folks who are familiar with this hike. Unfortunately, neither of us was one of those people.
We knew we had to be “on the trail” by 7:30 am in order to get back by 4:30 pm – giving us an hour of extra sun on the back side. True to form, we arrived at the trailhead (3040’ elevation) at 8 am – half an hour later then we planned. But off we went anyway. And the first mile was a dream. Flat sand hiking. And then we hit the sign that told us we were about to embark on the adventure of our lives: Coronado National Forest, Pusch Ridge Wilderness.
The sign did not say that there were 27 creek crossings up (and therefore – as my hubs pointed out later – 27 creek crossings down.) Creek crossings do not involve a bridge here in AZ wilderness hiking. They involve hopscotching over rocks – not all of which are stable – and I’ll return to this.
Getting to the Maiden Pools – a reasonable destination for older hikers – was 2.6 miles of boulders and switch backs. I honestly could have stopped there. But I always say, “in for a penny, in for a pound.” This was until I looked way up and got a view of our destination… Yikes! We started the next round of boulders and switchbacks, and all the while, I was listening to a podcast about the end of the world. I kid you not. And it seemed appropriate.
Finally, finally – and I mean five hours later of finally – we hit the ridge-top. Yee haw! If you are a serious mountain hiker, this means you have made it.
But no, we looked to our right and saw that we had yet around major half mile climb ahead of us. As we were ascending it, we saw and heard a couple we had seen at the Pools – peering over at us. The woman said, “Oh my ‘Deity’ - they [the geezers] made it!”
Nothing puts adrenalin into your system like beating experienced youthful hikers at their own game. They – OK, the gal – was in training for hiking Mount Kilimanjaro. We scooted on by them and reached the final ascent. I grinned to them as they followed us, “It looks a bit gnarly…” Subtext: Sure you can do this?
We reached the look out - the Window - and it was anti-climatic. Mostly because I truly could not look out. It was 3840 feet above where we had started - and a sheer drop off of 100’ too! The youngsters arrived and I offered my hubs to take a pic of them at the Window. A proposal they took up, rather cautiously, for reasons which I can understand. And they offered to take a pic of Laur and me. I clung to the rock and sat down well away from the precipice. Laur said, “Back up Jannie. It needs to be real.” Gah! I bottom shuffled a few centimeters more but refused to move any further after that.
Laur spent a few more minutes gleefully standing atop this cliff, snapping photos – he really doesn’t have a fear of heights – while I chatted with the young couple. The gal asked me, “Are you in training?” And I wanted to say, “Yes, to stay out of old folks’ homes.” But truly, we are already there – in Green Valley and in Arizona. (It sounds like I’m saying “on earth as it is in heaven” – and trust me, our retirement life is heaven.)
And then the screaming started. I actually thought the 4.5 hour walk down would be a cake walk compared to the 5.25 hour climb up. It was not. Turns out climbing over boulders going down is no easier than hoisting yourself over them on the climb up.
And those 27 streams we had to hopscotch over? Well, one of us was hopping and the other looked like she’d had some scotch. I truly don’t have good balance and when my legs are shaking with fatigue, and I’m hunger and tired… Well, I fell – bottom first – into a stream.
In retrospect it was funny. I managed to wedge myself between two rocks. And I couldn’t get a “purchase” with my feet because my soles were wet and the rocks were slippery. Laur said, after he had rescued me, “I so wish I could have got a picture of this. You looked like a turtle on its back, flailing and saying, ‘I give up.’”
I assured him that he had done the right thing. Time to be a rescue ranger! First, Laur tried to hoist me up – standing in front of me – but I could not connect my feet with anything dry and climbable. He then got behind me and pulled me out of my lowly and wet estate by putting his hands under my armpits and pretending he was a hoist. Said he, “Good thing you don’t weigh any more than you do or we’d be here forever.”
Gal pals? Feeling a little vengeful? Don’t! Once Laur got me to dry land, he too slid into the creek – though all he got was a bit of a soaker.
I would truly have been worried had I fallen earlier or later in the hike. Earlier because we’d still have a long way to go, and later because the desert gets dark and cold very quickly. Thankfully, we were within 15 minutes of our car – and even then, we were “chasing the sun.” What we thought would take such experienced hikers as us 9 hours – ended up taking us 10. And I am being serious here – one hour in the desert – if you get lost or late without enough water and shelter – can be the difference between having a tomorrow and not…
I have NEVER been so glad to tumble into our mobile home. And I told Laur that as much as I loved this hike – and I did love it! – I am never doing it again unless we live at the trailhead. (Never gonna happen – these ritzy areas don’t have trailer parks.)
And, bless his heart, Laur said, “Me neither!” Not only that, he said, “Thank you Jan – for going on this hike.” This is not something my dour Scots husband says easily.
*****
I gotta talk about the big-horned sheep. There is a sign early on in the Ventana Canyon hike, alerting hikers that these animals have been reintroduced to the area – having died out a few decades ago. A few days earlier, on our evening walk around the park, I said to Laur that I felt sorry for them. He asked why and I responded, “Just think about it. No veterinarians, no running water, no food guaranteed, no shelter from the cold or the sun or the rain, fleas, ticks, PREDATORS galore!!! Wouldn’t they just be happier at a zoo?”
Laur says, “Jannie, you have no sense of imagination or adventure.” And I said, “I have an idea. You’re of Scots decent. Let me introduce you to Scotland’s wilderness of the 1700s. No doctors or dentists, no potable water, famine, a kilt if you were lucky, cold, rain, fleas, ticks, THE ENGLISH! Wouldn’t you be happier at a trailer park?
Laur says “Point taken…”
At first, it didn’t sound too badly. 6.2 miles up, 6.2 miles down – a 20 km out and back hike. What could possibly go wrong? Well, nothing actually went wrong – it went “as planned” for folks who are familiar with this hike. Unfortunately, neither of us was one of those people.
We knew we had to be “on the trail” by 7:30 am in order to get back by 4:30 pm – giving us an hour of extra sun on the back side. True to form, we arrived at the trailhead (3040’ elevation) at 8 am – half an hour later then we planned. But off we went anyway. And the first mile was a dream. Flat sand hiking. And then we hit the sign that told us we were about to embark on the adventure of our lives: Coronado National Forest, Pusch Ridge Wilderness.
The sign did not say that there were 27 creek crossings up (and therefore – as my hubs pointed out later – 27 creek crossings down.) Creek crossings do not involve a bridge here in AZ wilderness hiking. They involve hopscotching over rocks – not all of which are stable – and I’ll return to this.
Getting to the Maiden Pools – a reasonable destination for older hikers – was 2.6 miles of boulders and switch backs. I honestly could have stopped there. But I always say, “in for a penny, in for a pound.” This was until I looked way up and got a view of our destination… Yikes! We started the next round of boulders and switchbacks, and all the while, I was listening to a podcast about the end of the world. I kid you not. And it seemed appropriate.
Finally, finally – and I mean five hours later of finally – we hit the ridge-top. Yee haw! If you are a serious mountain hiker, this means you have made it.
But no, we looked to our right and saw that we had yet around major half mile climb ahead of us. As we were ascending it, we saw and heard a couple we had seen at the Pools – peering over at us. The woman said, “Oh my ‘Deity’ - they [the geezers] made it!”
Nothing puts adrenalin into your system like beating experienced youthful hikers at their own game. They – OK, the gal – was in training for hiking Mount Kilimanjaro. We scooted on by them and reached the final ascent. I grinned to them as they followed us, “It looks a bit gnarly…” Subtext: Sure you can do this?
We reached the look out - the Window - and it was anti-climatic. Mostly because I truly could not look out. It was 3840 feet above where we had started - and a sheer drop off of 100’ too! The youngsters arrived and I offered my hubs to take a pic of them at the Window. A proposal they took up, rather cautiously, for reasons which I can understand. And they offered to take a pic of Laur and me. I clung to the rock and sat down well away from the precipice. Laur said, “Back up Jannie. It needs to be real.” Gah! I bottom shuffled a few centimeters more but refused to move any further after that.
Laur spent a few more minutes gleefully standing atop this cliff, snapping photos – he really doesn’t have a fear of heights – while I chatted with the young couple. The gal asked me, “Are you in training?” And I wanted to say, “Yes, to stay out of old folks’ homes.” But truly, we are already there – in Green Valley and in Arizona. (It sounds like I’m saying “on earth as it is in heaven” – and trust me, our retirement life is heaven.)
And then the screaming started. I actually thought the 4.5 hour walk down would be a cake walk compared to the 5.25 hour climb up. It was not. Turns out climbing over boulders going down is no easier than hoisting yourself over them on the climb up.
And those 27 streams we had to hopscotch over? Well, one of us was hopping and the other looked like she’d had some scotch. I truly don’t have good balance and when my legs are shaking with fatigue, and I’m hunger and tired… Well, I fell – bottom first – into a stream.
In retrospect it was funny. I managed to wedge myself between two rocks. And I couldn’t get a “purchase” with my feet because my soles were wet and the rocks were slippery. Laur said, after he had rescued me, “I so wish I could have got a picture of this. You looked like a turtle on its back, flailing and saying, ‘I give up.’”
I assured him that he had done the right thing. Time to be a rescue ranger! First, Laur tried to hoist me up – standing in front of me – but I could not connect my feet with anything dry and climbable. He then got behind me and pulled me out of my lowly and wet estate by putting his hands under my armpits and pretending he was a hoist. Said he, “Good thing you don’t weigh any more than you do or we’d be here forever.”
Gal pals? Feeling a little vengeful? Don’t! Once Laur got me to dry land, he too slid into the creek – though all he got was a bit of a soaker.
I would truly have been worried had I fallen earlier or later in the hike. Earlier because we’d still have a long way to go, and later because the desert gets dark and cold very quickly. Thankfully, we were within 15 minutes of our car – and even then, we were “chasing the sun.” What we thought would take such experienced hikers as us 9 hours – ended up taking us 10. And I am being serious here – one hour in the desert – if you get lost or late without enough water and shelter – can be the difference between having a tomorrow and not…
I have NEVER been so glad to tumble into our mobile home. And I told Laur that as much as I loved this hike – and I did love it! – I am never doing it again unless we live at the trailhead. (Never gonna happen – these ritzy areas don’t have trailer parks.)
And, bless his heart, Laur said, “Me neither!” Not only that, he said, “Thank you Jan – for going on this hike.” This is not something my dour Scots husband says easily.
*****
I gotta talk about the big-horned sheep. There is a sign early on in the Ventana Canyon hike, alerting hikers that these animals have been reintroduced to the area – having died out a few decades ago. A few days earlier, on our evening walk around the park, I said to Laur that I felt sorry for them. He asked why and I responded, “Just think about it. No veterinarians, no running water, no food guaranteed, no shelter from the cold or the sun or the rain, fleas, ticks, PREDATORS galore!!! Wouldn’t they just be happier at a zoo?”
Laur says, “Jannie, you have no sense of imagination or adventure.” And I said, “I have an idea. You’re of Scots decent. Let me introduce you to Scotland’s wilderness of the 1700s. No doctors or dentists, no potable water, famine, a kilt if you were lucky, cold, rain, fleas, ticks, THE ENGLISH! Wouldn’t you be happier at a trailer park?
Laur says “Point taken…”