Way back in 1993, I was asked to write a piece about a little project I had completed. I can’t remember for whom it was written, probably some newspaper or magazine. Anyway, today I was digging through some old files and I came across the original article – I had completely forgotten it even existed. As you read it, parts will seem quite dated, maybe even quaint. Some of its details surprised me, and I thought that if I presented it to you here, in the light of day of 2018, you might get a kick out of it. So here it is in its original form. I have added a few comments in italics to clarify or update as needed. By the way, although I have given talks to groups about this project over the years, I have never before written about it for public consumption.
CLIMBING THE 193 MOUNTAIN RANGES OF ARIZONA
I can still remember what got the whole thing started. I was disgusted that I’d been so physically inactive, living in Phoenix and pushing paper at a desk job all day. I had just read in the local newspaper that Brown’s Peak was the highest point of Maricopa County. On January 4th of 1986, I drove out there, camped overnight and climbed it the next morning. It was great, I felt renewed. Within days, I was wondering about the other county high points of Arizona. I spent hours in the Arizona State University map library, determining what those points were. Then, in a rather casual way, I set out to climb the remaining fourteen. I was done by November 23rd that same year.
But I couldn’t leave well-enough alone. In climbing those fifteen, I’d had an enticing glimpse into the special beauty of Arizona. I began to wonder how many mountain ranges there were in the state. Back to the library. Untold hours poring over almost 2,000 topographic maps produced a rudimentary list. As time passed, the list became much refined and expanded. I was amazed to see that there were 193 different mountain ranges which were partly or wholly within Arizona.
I was excited. I knew that the list was original, so climbing to the highest point of every range had never been done before. It was a project on a huge scale, one that would be a big challenge and would keep me busy for a long time. Such an undertaking would perfectly suit my obsessive behavior.
So, I began to devote more and more time to the project. At first, I climbed near Phoenix. Many of the summits were low, and sometimes I could do three or four in a day. As the distances from home became greater, I felt I should stay away longer, doing more summits per trip to justify the ever-increasing travel time. Before I knew it, day trips became overnight trips. Then, in August of 1987, I moved to Tucson. By year’s end, I had completed 64 of the ranges. The overnight trips had by then expanded to as much as six days at a time. I was very deeply involved, and found that the project had become all-consuming. My work was pushed aside more and more to make room for the climbing.
1988 continued much the same. I had completed 90 of the ranges by the time I headed to the Canadian Rockies in June to escape the desert heat. My total was up to 103 by the end of the year.
In 1989, it was as if I had gone completely mad. In addition to doing complete traverses of several Arizona ranges, another trip to the Canadian Rockies and climbing in the June heat on the Tohono O’odham Indian Reservation, I finished the last 90 ranges! On December 17th it was over. I stood on the high point of the Belmont Mountains with 3 friends who had joined me for the occasion. We celebrated with champagne and had a good time, but soon after, I felt sad. Like many other things in life, the journey had been more fulfilling than reaching the goal itself.
Looking back on those four hectic years, I’m amazed how much effort was actually spent on the project. There were 162 days of climbing and 78 nights spent away from home. Most of the climbing was done alone, for the simple reason that as I became more involved, it was harder to find partners to accompany me on short notice. I climbed 41 of the ranges with friends, but on only 6 ranges did I actually meet strangers. Much of the climbing was done in very remote places, and during the long, lonely days and nights, I often found that I would carry on lengthy conversations with myself. I drove 40,000 miles in my Toyota 4×4 to do the entire project. Not the least of the statistics was this one – there’s no doubt in my mind that this obsession contributed to the decline and fall of my marriage.
One of the biggest problems in completing this project is access. Most property owners will give you permission to cross their private land if you ask nicely. A notable exception is the Mohon Mountains, but more on that later. Many ranges lie on Indian reservations, and the best all-around advice I can give here is to do your climbing in the company of a Native who lives on the reservation. Permits are available for all military reserve land except the Yuma Proving Ground, which is controlled by the U.S. Army. There, you’re left to your own devices. A four-wheel-drive vehicle is necessary for relatively few of the climbs, but greatly increases your chances on many others. High clearance is a necessity for most of them.
Several of the climbs are notable for their difficulty, remoteness, beauty or uniqueness, and I’ll now discuss some of those.
The peaks on the Tohono O’odham Indian Reservation are very special. They are not high or remote or even difficult, but theirs is a beauty which is unique. You know you are on sacred land when you are there. Whenever I hear the flute music of R. Carlos Nakai, it takes me back there. I drove 3,000 miles in six weeks with my companion from the village of Choulic in order to climb the ranges of his nation, and I will remember those days as long as I live.
The Navajo Nation contains many high peaks, beautifully-wooded and cool. It is a friendly land, and a visit there is a must for those wanting to see some of Arizona’s nicest high peaks.
One cannot obtain permission to cross the private land surrounding Mohon Peak. It is one of Arizona’s least-known and least-climbed peaks. At 7,499 feet, it towers above everything else for miles around. The shortest climbing route on foot, round-trip, is 33 miles and 5,100 vertical feet, and it can be done in less than 24 hours. Well worth it, if for no other reason than the excitement of seeing whether or not you’ll get caught.
A challenging day-climb is Mt. Tipton, the high point of the Cerbat Mountains. Its summit is defended by a maze of broken ridges and rugged canyons and it’ll keep you guessing, especially if you approach from the south-west.
The Virgin Mountains in the extreme north-west corner of the state are lofty and beautiful. The view of three states and Lake Mead is breath-taking. At over 8,000 feet, they are clothed in pine forests and are peaceful and beckoning, yet few have ever climbed among their crags.
I mentioned earlier the Yuma Proving Ground. By far the best climb out there is Mohave Peak in the Trigo Mountains. Approach from the Colorado River to the west. It’s a long, exciting day. You must travel up and down a maze of beautiful canyons and washes. Your orienteering skills will be tested, but the rewards of standing on Mohave’s summit are worth every drop of sweat.
Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument offers six ranges for the discriminating climber’s palate. Four are quick strolls, but two are great climbs. One of these is Kino Peak in the Bates Mountains. If you approach it from Bates Well in the north, you’ll have a long, interesting day. Many fail to reach the summit of Kino Peak. The trick to solving the puzzle is this: sit on the next pinnacle to the north, glass the north face of Kino, pick a route and memorize it, then cross over to it and follow your chosen path to the top. It’s not difficult, but by the time you’re back at Bates Well, you’ll feel you’ve really accomplished something. It’s a race against the clock to finish before night engulfs you.
Another of Organ Pipe’s challenges is reaching the top of the Sierra de Santa Rosa. When I climbed it in 1987, the monument headquarters informed me that I was the first person to ever apply for a permit to camp out in that sector. The summit is only a 1,600-foot climb, but it’s the very long haul across the desert which makes it a real test of your endurance.
The Barry M. Goldwater military range is vast, and contains many rugged and beautiful mountains. Some of my best Arizona climbs were in the Growler, Granite, Aguila and Tinajas Altas Mountains. Long approaches on foot are common. The stillness is broken only by the sound of fighter jets shooting at targets and the explosions of huge bombs dropped from on high.
My favorite place in all of Arizona is the Cabeza Prieta National Wildlife Refuge. Out there, you really feel like you’re alone. I once spent six days there without seeing another soul. All of its ranges require long approaches on foot. To do the Bryan Mountains, you’ll have to cover a minimum of 37 miles on foot to do a climb of 1,000 vertical feet to reach the range high point.
Of the 193 ranges in Arizona, five of them cross over into Mexico where their very highest points are found. These are highly recommended. The Sierra de la Nariz is a very long ridge walk into Mexico. The Sierra de la Lechuguilla is steep and rugged. The Tule Mountains are in the midst of an area of major transport of illegal drugs. So are the Pajarito Mountains, where two pistol-packing Mexican ranchers on horseback, accompanied by their dogs, cornered and questioned me. Their first reaction to my excuse for trespassing on their land was: “Mountain climbing – yeah, sure, Pal.” The La Lesna Mountains are remote and blissfully quiet.
Of the 193 ranges, only three of the summits involve technical climbing. Of these three, Baboquiviri Mountain is the easiest – Class 4, or low 5th. The high point of the Tank Mountains is Class 5.1. The most difficult of them is the North Feather of the Eagletail Mountains, at Class 5.6. In exchange for his leading the climb, I posed for the man who led it by standing on the nearby South Feather while he shot 100 photos at sunset. It was worth it. The best of those photos helped make him famous, appearing on the cover of “High Risk Photography” (American and World Geographic Publishing – 1991) and also on the cover of “Geomundo” (September, 1991), as well as billboards in Europe.
I left a register on most of the 193 range high points. In the intervening years, I have received many letters from climbers who copied my name and address from the notebook in the glass jar awaiting them on the top. As a result, some nice friendships have developed. So if you’re ever standing on the high point of such unlikely-sounding places as the John the Baptist Mountains or the Chocolate Mountains, poke around a bit and you’ll locate a register. Be sure to sign in and enjoy the comments of others who were there before you.
I have been asked repeatedly to write a book on my adventures during the four years this project spanned. So far I haven’t – in fact, this article is the only thing I’ve ever written about it, but I may do so yet. In retrospect, I feel that the project was worth every drop of the blood, sweat and tears that went into it. I’d recommend it to anyone. Quite a few others are currently working on climbing all of the summits, but to date no one else has climbed all of them. It’s a big task, but the rewards are also great – you’ll see every part of Arizona, get plenty of exercise, meet some great people, become very proficient with map and compass and experience a joie de vivre second to none. If you try, good luck and good climbing!
So there you have it, Folks, the original account of the 193 ranges. I have a few updates for you, though. Since I completed the list in 1989, I’m happy to report that others have done so. In 1998, Dave Jurasevich from Los Angeles and Bob Packard from Flagstaff completed the list. Mark Adrian from San Diego finished in 1999. Andy Bates from Tucson completed in 2000. John Klein from Tucson was the latest completer, in 2014. The reason so few have completed the project is that it is, quite simply, a massive undertaking. If you climb an average of one peak each week, it will take you four years to finish. There is a lot of risk involved. Most of the peaks near the Mexican border are over-run by Bad Guys working for the Mexican drug cartels. A full 44 of the peaks are stealth climbs, which means that you cannot ever get permission to go and climb them. 40 of the peaks are on Indian reservations. 16 are on military reserves. Several are world-class bushwhacks. Some of them are so remote that if you needed help in case of emergency, it may not arrive in time to save your life. It’s not likely that anyone else will finish the project – I hope the future proves me wrong, but I’m betting that that the total of 6 of us is all there’ll ever be.