Climber friend Andy Martin sure has caused me a lot of work – climbing work, that is. Andy is the list-master, who has probably constructed more lists for peakbaggers than anybody else. He can take an idea, seemingly out of thin air, and create a list of peaks which at first glance might seem unusual or extreme but turns out to be creative and challenging. So it was no surprise when, a decade or so ago, he informed me and fellow climber Andy Bates that we had a bit of unfinished business that needed taking care of. He informed us that the Coronado National Forest had 12 distinct sections and each one had its own highest point, then went on to say that both of us still needed to climb a peak in one last section to complete all 12. Okay, okay, we get the picture, so Andy and I finally decided to go out and climb that last one. It turned out to be the farthest one from home, and unlike the other 11, this one peak was just across the border into New Mexico. Probably 90% of that particular chunk of the national forest was in New Mexico, with the remaining small bit in far southeastern Arizona.
Andy was living in Phoenix at the time, so he left his home on October 14th (the year was 2017) and drove just over a hundred miles to my house in Tucson. He left his home at 1:45 AM and arrived at mine at 3:30 AM. He left his truck parked at my place, we threw everything into my Toyota pickup and drove east into the night. We had the driving route figured out well enough, along freeway, highway and dirt road until we reached the AZ-NM state line after a drive of about 180 miles. There, we found a gate, which I think we had expected, but we did not expect it to be locked. It was a crying shame, because the road needed to be followed for 2 miles before we’d head uphill towards our peak. I’ll put in the vertical effort all day long, but walking along a flat road is something I’ve always considered to be a total waste of time and effort. Oh well, once we realized there was no alternative, we put on our big boy pants, climbed over the gate and started out. It was 7:30 AM.
The road headed east through open country, roughly paralleling the wash which flowed out of Skull Canyon. It only climbed 200 feet in the miles we walked it, so for all intents and purposes it appeared quite level, or as my Dad used to say, flatter than piss on a tin plate (those Old-Timers sure came up with some colorful expressions). After a while, we came across this old windmill
The dead windmill
The writing on it, on the right middle edge of the photo, says “Aermotor, Chicago”. These were in common usage throughout the west for more than a century and were used to pump water out of the ground, mainly for the purpose of watering livestock. Nearby was the reason for the windmill’s demise – a solar-powered pump had been installed in its place.
The solar-powered pump and big tank.
We left this curiosity behind and kept walking the road. At around 2 miles into our walk, we decided to leave it behind and start climbing. Our elevation was 4,660 feet where we left the road. We saw this rock feature along the way as we headed southeast.
A hillside full of rocky spires.
We could tell that before too long, we’d have to enter a canyon to continue. We’d have to choose a route. In the next picture, see the light-colored cliff in the center just below the horizon? We’d have to go around it, one side or the other – canyon on the left, or canyon on the right?
The path ahead.
It was easy going, through a sort of grassy country. The land rose gently. By about 8:45, we had this look back.
A look back down the gentle slope.
And there was this look back to the northwest, across the San Simon Valley to the Chiricahua Mountains. Something else we spotted was the white dot on the left middle of the photo – that was the water tank shown 4 pictures ago.
Looking to the northern end of the Chiricahua Mountains. The peaks there reach up to about 8,500 feet elevation.
We reached a point where we had to go around that light-colored feature described earlier, and we went to the right. At around 4,900 feet we entered a canyon. There was some fun scrambling involved.
Looking up the canyon.
We stopped for a break. It was now 9:30 in the morning – we’d been out for 2 hours on foot.
Taking a break
There were some nice trees growing in this confined space, probably because they took advantage of the water that would come flowing through after a good rainfall.
Nice trees
We stayed in the canyon up to the 5,250-foot level, then decided to leave it by climbing steeply out of it to the south, which took us up to a fairly flat spot on a ridge, where we found ourselves at 5,450 feet. By then, it was 10:30 AM. Here’s a look out over the last of the trees in the canyon – you can still see that white water tank if you look closely.
Another look across the valley.
From pretty much the same spot, I turned the camera around and looked north.
Looking north along the Peloncillo Mountains
And here’s a shot looking up the same ridge we were climbing.
Still a long way to go.
Forty-five minutes later, we were still climbing the ridge – our direction had changed and we were now climbing southeast. This next picture shows that view.
Looking higher yet.
From the same spot as the above photo, here is what we saw looking to the south.
This photo was taken at about 6,200 feet.
Finally, we topped out and found ourselves on the summit ridge. At 11:48 AM, we walked over to Owl Benchmark and took this photo.
The brass plate.
In the year Andy and I did this climb, it was thought that there was a point along the ridge farther south that was a bit higher than the benchmark, so everyone who went to Owl also walked a bit farther to that other point. Here is a view looking along the ridge to that southern point. In the photo, it is the lighter brown rounded bump just to the left of center, and it almost half a mile distant.
The higher point to the south.
We were no exception, so we dutifully headed south along the ridge. From a dip along the way, we had this view looking back to Owl.
Looking back north to Owl
At 12:10 PM, we arrived at what was, at that time, called Point 6644. Here’s Andy on the top.
Andy on 6644
When we were there, the map showed this spot as being 19 feet higher than Owl. However, recent LiDAR data has changed all of that. With great accuracy, Owl is now known to have an elevation of 6,628 feet, while Point 6644 has been revised downward to 6,627 feet. So ignore the elevations marked on the map and go with the new figures I just mentioned. We didn’t spend much time there, just long enough to take a few pictures. Oh yes, one important thing I need to mention. On top of 6644 we found a register, and there was nothing unusual about that except for something odd that was written on a paper inside. A message there said that if we stopped in at the cafe in Rodeo, New Mexico and asked for Helen, she would lend us a key for the lock on the gate that had stopped us! Hell’s bells, a lot of good that did us! Too bad that tidbit hadn’t been somehow publicized before we went to climb the peak. We also read that the Southern Arizona Hiking Club had visited the summit in 2012, 2013 and 2014.
Off to the southeast, 15 air miles away, sat the high point of the Animas Mountains in New Mexico. At 8,551 feet, it stood almost 2,000 vertical feet higher than where we were.
This is a telephoto shot.
Back between the 2 peaks, we had good views of both. Here again is Point 6644,
South to Point 6644
And here is Owl Benchmark.
Looking north to Owl.
Once back at Owl, we started the lengthy descent. I had marked our somewhat sinuous route with the odd bit of flagging on the way up, and Andy retrieved it on the way down. Andy is one of the fastest, strongest climbers I have ever known and it was always hard to keep up with his pace. That afternoon, however, I noticed that he was lagging behind. Sometimes I would get ahead of him, then notice that he had dropped back. I would stop and wait for him to catch up. This happened several times on the way down and I became concerned, as I was waiting longer and longer for him to catch up. Lower down, once we reached the canyon, Andy told me that he was feeling the effects of the heat. We stayed together after that. Here are some pictures from our descent.
By the time we exited the canyon, the day was getting on. Once back at the road, it was a steady plod to cover the miles. Where we reached the road, here was a look back.
A look back
Along the way, we made a few new friends.
New friends
Finally, at 4:32 PM, we reached the gate. Having to walk the road had added a good 2 hours to our day. We had been out 9 hours on foot. Here’s a look back to Owl.
The gate, our bane.
It was almost 9:00 PM by the time we arrived back at my place in Tucson, and close to eleven when Andy reached his home. What a day! So now we were done – we had climbed the highest point of land in each of the 12 chunks of the Coronado National Forest. Andy Martin and his lists – what’s next?!