At dawn on the third day of our trip, it was a balmy 44 degrees, much nicer than the 35 of the previous morning. From our flat camping spot, we had a good view across many miles of the King Valley to our next destination, the Kofa Mountains. Kofa is a made-up name, short for King of Arizona, which is the name of a famous gold mine discovered in 1896.
It was a twenty-mile drive across the desert on good dirt roads, pretty flat, that brought us to the area of the still-privately-owned Kofa mine. It is probably the only bit of private land in the huge 665,000-acre Kofa National Wildlife Refuge. We pulled up to an area barely a mile from the mine and parked. A short walk up a canyon took us past all manner of old mining activity, en route to our first peak of the day. There was some fun climbing up a few steep bits, and before long we stood on top of Peak 2620. A register on the summit had entries from a few of our friends several years earlier.
There was another peak next door that we also wanted to do, so we didn’t hang around long. It was an enjoyable ridge walk down to the saddle between the two peaks, then a quick ascent to the next summit, Peak 2487. The views from this one were positively distracting. Check this out.
And this one, which rises over 2,500 vertical feet from its base.
As we were eating lunch on the summit, I found a tick crawling on my pack. I then became paranoid that they might be inside my clothes, biting me and giving me Lyme disease or Rocky Mountain spotted fever or whatever the hell else ticks can give you. Had me thinking all the way back down to the truck. When we were at our vehicles, a guy pulled up and stopped to talk. What an interesting job he had. He said he worked as a contractor for the Arizona Game and Fish Department, and his job was to track and tag mountain lions. I have no idea how you would actually do such a thing, but he had five dogs with him and they were instrumental in doing his work. The dogs were his and it was obvious he was very close to them. He spent long amounts of time out in the wilderness, and said that, to date, he had only found two lions in the entire refuge. Tough job, bad odds.
Cracking open a beer, we planned what to do next. I was really excited – we were about to drive through one of the most remote areas in the southwest desert, through the Tank Mountains. Few people ever see this area – the three of us had only made a brief inroad into it, many years earlier. The guys started out and I soon followed, windows down and the Stones blasting. This area is so unbelievably beautiful, you have to experience it for yourself to understand why I felt higher than a kite as we drove along. Just look at this shot of Kofa Butte.
It just begs to be climbed. Fortunately, all three of us had done it many years before. I kept stopping to take pictures, lagging far behind the guys and falling out of radio contact. A few miles later, as I rounded a corner, this popped into view, and I almost soiled myself.
Courthouse Mountain, standing a thousand feet above the road – Mark and RHiker had already climbed it. I’d need to come back again to give it a go. A few minutes later, this came into view.
It was my old friend, the un-named high point of the entire Tank Mountains. Back in 1989, I had done the first ascent with Barbara Lilley and Gordon McLeod. It was a technical climb with plenty of exposure, and it felt like a real pioneering effort at the time. Mark and RHiker had done this one too in the intervening years. Man, I was being blown away by all this scenery and memories. I had to stop and crack open another beer to celebrate.
Once past Peak 2506, it was new territory for all of us. I for one had often wondered about a foray deeper into the Tanks and what great things awaited there, and today was the day. When we rounded the north side of the mountain, the road deteriorated, became a wash and attained the magical “4WD” status shown on the map. In a couple more miles, we entered Engesser Pass at a mere eighteen hundred feet above sea level. Funny rock formations.
Once through the pass, we entered a flatter area, the Palomas Plain. Curiously, we came upon this sign, even though we were still in the wildlife refuge. The military must have had some extra bombs that spilled over into this area, so I guess we were being warned
The miles wore on as we drove through the plain. One of the places we had talked about weeks earlier was White Tanks. That’s what it was called on the map, but we had no idea what was there, just that it was surrounded by interesting-looking mountains. I don’t remember exactly where, but at some point we crossed into the Yuma Proving Ground, an area where the U.S. Army did whatever the army does. The plain was pretty featureless, but the GPS informed us that we had reached a road junction that turned south to the White Tanks. Some strange equipment sat there, with USMC stencilled on its side. Curiouser and curiouser. All shot up, too.
Away we went, and in a couple of miles, the mountains closed in on us and we came to a cable stretched across the road with this sign beside it.
And this sign was there too.
Okay, here’s the deal. We had all signed a hold-harmless agreement with the military. We didn’t care about artifacts. Archeology, shmarcheology – we only cared about one thing, climbing mountains. That was our raison d’être, plain and simple. We were no threat to anybody or anything, just some old farts getting some exercise. So on we drove. And lo and behold, after all that bluster, in another mile the mountain pass opened up into a valley where this sign greeted us.
What the …..? First they threaten you, then they tell you to enjoy. Okay, fine by us – we planned to enjoy the hills and not touch any artifacts, scout’s honor. A mile of rough 4wd driving past this last sign brought us to the bottom of a deep gully, where we decided to park and camp in a rocky area. Happy hour, a hot meal and a campfire followed. I was so excited to be here, I just knew that this area was going to be something special. So ended our third day, now a full eighty miles since we had left pavement. Oh yes, almost forgot – I found another tick on my shirt and another inside my truck. What was going on?
To be continued……………………………………………
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