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Saturday, November 15, 2008

Bagging my first summit in Mexico: San Jose Peak, Sonora
















(Photographs by Bill B from Tucson)
I am exhausted. I am in pain. I am hungry. I can't remember hiking such a steep, long hike since climbing Yosemite's Half Dome back in 2000.
But I am also relieved that after 22 years, I have finally climbed my first mountain in Mexico. The weather was near perfect (save for the breeze and the subsequent haze). The temperatures were ideal. But most importantly, the group I was with was fun.

I got up long before sunrise. I drank my coffee slowly and told Kevin that yes, I was a little nervous about heading into Mexico. I picked up Steve from the Lone Star Cafe, Brenda and Gordon from the Morning Star Cafe (they were at the wrong meet-up place) and the four of us took off to met the rest of the Tucson gang at the Bisbee Burger King where I had a quick breakfast of nutritious Spicy Chicken sandwiches.

I got to meet the rest of the hikers here: Bill, Joe, Tone, Mitch and later Mike. Oh uh I thought, these guys look like professional hikers, all decked out in their Patagonia and Columbia gear. Here I was in a torn button-down shirt and tattered jeans wearing my cheap $20 Yukon hikers with an oversized camera dangling from my neck. I looked like a cityslicker out for a stroll.

These guys are going to eat me alive, I thought. Steve looked a little apprehensive as well.

“It’s going to take us four hours to get to the peak and about two hours to get back down,” said Mike. I looked at my watch: it was already past 9am. That wouldn’t give us much daylight.

“Let’s go!” said Joe, who was eager to get started.

Mike had hiked up this peak several times and knew the ways up. He was our guide for the day. We drove straight through Naco, and just barely a mile into the border we hit a dirt road due south that led straight up the foothills, passing several closed (but not locked) gates along the way.

Mike spoke fluent Spanish. He would get out of the RAV4 and talk to every rancher along the way. He reminded me of the Special Forces guys I worked for in Haiti: tall, athletic and fluent in the native language, Mike chatted a bit with the landowners to gain information on the trail. One man, who was tending to a broken water pipe with his brown horse tied up nearby, told him that there was a shorter trail to the top. We took that one.

We proceeded as far up the dirt trail as we could before we parked the cars off a small clearing and walked up the rest. We ascended the mountain via a canyon from the northeast.

It was a very steep single-track trail up unstable volcanic ash rock. Gambel oak and catclaw lined the trail, an occasional Poison oak, agave, desert spoon, and some of the largest hedgehogs I had ever seen. But there was no water anywhere, and no wildlife other than two ravens that flew over the peak.

The trail got rockier and steepier as we gained elevation. Naco and Bisbee to our north became apparent as we ascended. The golden alluvial plains were coming in the forefront. Distant houses, distant mountain ranges, and small lakes glistening in the sun were visible to our southern views.

But we couldn’t see a trace of Sierra Vista.

We didn’t stop often and we didn’t stop for long. I was worried I was going to have breathing problems (my lungs have felt “heavy” since coming back from the Death March Marathon in March). Joe and Tone were the fast hikers. The rest of us lollygagged toward the rear, with Bill and I taking all the photographs, but even that didn’t slow the group down much.

We rested short of the peak for 20 minutes. The radio towers on the peak were now obvious, something I never could see before. And when we got to the peak 2:40hours from first taking off, we saw the litter: Tecate cans, plastic bottles, discarded batteries. Some of the battery boxes had been broken into. There was only one small area on top with a clear view of the southern ranges. That is where Brenda, Gordon, Steve and I chatted for a while.

“These panels were made by my former company” said Steve who looked at the solar panels facing the southern skies.

This is what I wanted to see: the views behind the mountain. San Jose peak is a lone mountain and a small one. Even the Huachuacas didn’t look that big, either. There were no trails visible. Just pinon pines, dead oaks and steep cliffs. But Mike pointed out a mountain range toward the east that is a popular national park. The rest of the land was dry, golden vallies in all directions.

The one disappointment was not being able to see Sierra Vista from the summit. The haze to the north limited our visibility. Nothing glistened in the sun. You couldn't even tell there was a city of 43,000 there. Even the Chiricahuas were vaguely distinguishable to our northeast.

The Huachucas to our northwest looked small and insignificant. We stayed at the top for an hour, enjoying the views and taking lots of photographs.

The fast hikers in the group took off ahead of the rest of us, then waited for us near the finish by a graffiti-sprayed trench wall.

It wasn’t easy climbing back down with the loose rocks hidden under dead leaves. Brenda, Mitch and I all slid in parts. My old Gap jeans ripped two inches in the butt. I may just start patching them up and wearing them exclusively as hiking pants. (That will REALLY make me look like a professional hiker, ha!)

“ROCK!” Bill would yell whenever a small avalanche started by a careless step. Luckily no one got injured and we all made it back to our cars before the sun set over the horizon. It took us two hours to get back down from the peak.

Ironically, this was the first hike in the region that had clean trails.( The only trash we saw were Tecate cans and bottles at the peak around the radio towers.)

"They dump all their trash on our side of the border" said one hiker sarcastically.

We stopped at a restaurant in Naco to treat Mike to his favorite seafood restaurant: Miramar off the main street. I’m not a seafood lover and opted to hold off dinner until I got back home, but I gladly gave in to a beer.

The only problem was, we got large bottles of Tecate, approximately 42 ounces. Somehow the order got lost in translation. The beer tasted better than I thought it would. Steve ended up drinking half of mine anyway since I was the driver. I sat next to Mitch, himself a Sierra Club hike leader and band member of a county rock band “Cornerstone”

We finally made it across the border and back into Arizona long after sunset. It was after 7:30pm when I got home, and Kevin was already in bed.


Most of the people in this group agreed that more hikes into Mexico will happen. There is so much hidden beauty in Mexico and I am so excited to finally have found a group of people who share the same passion I have with El Sur.

The three other people from my hiking group kept thanking me for inviting them to this hike and for making this possible. Gordon even said "I have lived here 30 years and have never hiked San Jose Peak before."

The real efforts of the hike, however, go to Bill in Tucson for organizing this and for Mike in Bisbee for guiding us to the top. All I did was organize the meet-up for the people in my area and drive us across the border.

(BTW, my Ford Escape outperformed the Toyota RAV4 hands down!) I love my toy.

Now, when I look over to the towering peak to the south, I can remember today.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Connie,

I just discovered your very interesting blog while googling San Jose Peak. You should post a link to your outdoor adventures on TucsonHikers, especially your San Jose Peak report.

Bill Bens

Tone said...

I'm glad Bill found this Blog and told me about it. I wouldn't have wanted to miss this. Nicely done, traveler.

\Tone

Anonymous said...

I also discovered your blog searching San Jose. I've been in Douglas three years and admire the peak from my front door every day.

Gary Weaver