Humphrey's Peak, Arizona

also known incorrectly as Mount Humphreys (even on this website!)

June 11, 2006

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Cristina, Doug and Joel on Humphrey's Peak

Vistas to the west from along the trail

Mt. Agassiz from the saddle

Doug and Cristina climbing one of several false peaks

Following the trail through the forest

A butterfly hitches a ride on Joel's pack

 

Report by Cristina Rodriguez, Photos by Joel Brewster

Leaving for Humphrey's Peak at 5:30 a.m. means you're almost alone while relaxing at the summit. It also means that on the way down, dozens of panting hikers look at you in awe. "Did you make it to the top?" they ask. "Oh yeah -- It's worth it!" you may answer.

On June 10 when Joel, Doug and I made the seven-hour hike, we threw in another bit of helpful advice: "It's really windy up there." Windy was an understatement for gusts that almost knocked me over a couple of times, forcing me to ball up as much as I could with my legs still moving. Two hikers, the first guys up there, had warned us about the wind on their way down. At the time I tossed off the comment as I concentrated on the jagged, rocky path at 12,000 feet. The peak, 12,633 feet, was worth it. I stumbled into a circle of rocks built as a wind guard, caught my breath and then stood -- holding my hat onto my head. To the north, the 10 a.m. sun brought out the varying shades of green in the huge valley below, otherwise known as the Arizona Snow Bowl. Toward Flagstaff I could see a few buildings and the white dome of Northern Arizona University’s stadium.

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Doug descends the rocky trail

It was the highest I've ever been on land. About 15 minutes before the peak, Doug pointed out that we were looking down on an airplane. I was glad that Joel warned Doug and I about the last leg of the hike. Humphrey's Peak actually hides behind the first peak you see when emerging out of the treeline. There are not just one, but three false summits you have to overcome to reach the end. Luckily, Joel's other warning didn't come true. He said, and other hikers on the trail agreed, that the weather can get pretty nasty at the top. But it was a beautiful, clear day -- the kind of day in which a butterfly might sit down on your backpack and hang out while you walk. (This happened to Joel, who kept the "little buddy" for a good 20 minutes or so.)

The hikers we encountered were of all types. A Texas couple who had grown children was on their second attempt at Humphrey's Peak, and they talked about the other state highpoints they'd climbed. A couple of guys jogged on the trail, and another wheeled a mountain bike over the rocks with kind of a concerned look on his face. One of the teenagers in a group just behind us at the summit popped over the wind guard with traction-less blue Vans on his feet. On the way down, we each caught a few seconds of a story about a salacious elevator ride at a hotel. (Maybe in Vegas?)

The hike itself was challenging for me, but not enough to be too uncomfortable. I was gasping for air from the first few steps of the trail through a flat meadow under a ski lift. We started at about 9,200 feet. I wore four layers of clothing on the coldest parts of the hike and three layers in the warmest. Many people wore shorts and T-shirts, though.

I'm a rookie so I learned a few things for next time: bring gloves, chapstick, a handkerchief and probably three liters of water instead of two. Doug and I had camped out the night before in the parking lot, where there was plenty of room and a few other campers. We found a flat surface and set up the tent in front of the car's headlights. We had left Las Vegas around 5 p.m. and took the route through Laughlin, so we arrived at the site at 10 p.m. On our way out of the Snowbowl into Flagstaff, we saw a few more inviting trailheads off the curvy road. But I was ready for some rewarding food in town -- pizza by the slice!