My mom’s piano student Molly just moved out here for
college, and my mom asked me to look out for her. During Friday night dinner at
The Main Ingredient, she shared her hiking adventures over the course of her
month in Arizona: Camelback and Fossil Creek. “What should I do next?” she
asked.
“What are you up to tomorrow? Want to do the Grand Canyon?
Or Humphrey’s Peak?” Go big or go home, I was thinking. (There may have been a
cocktail in my hand during this conversation.)
“Really?” Molly squealed. She was delighted. She reminds me
of Taylor Swift and is absolutely adorable.
And that is how I found myself headed north the next
morning, despite all the things I really needed to be doing at home.
We decided en route to tackle Humphrey’s Peak in hopes of
seeing fall color. There were some golden aspens at the beginning, but most of
the hike was a steady climb through the forest. Molly was convinced we were
making great time. “I think we’re almost there!” she kept saying. “There’s no
way it’s going to take us four hours!”
I appreciated this girl’s optimism, but I knew we were going
to get our butts kicked. Well, I was, at least. She is a sand volleyball player
and in much better shape than me.
I started off strong, but about three hours in I waved Molly
on. I told her to go ahead and summit, and I’d meet her at the saddle. I was
even doubting my ability to make it there! I underestimated the altitude
factor; my lungs were burning.
But I made it to the saddle and was quite happy with that.
I’d already gone 2,000 feet, and the summit would have required another 1,000
feet in just under a mile. No
thanks. I don’t need to prove anything to anyone. I’m no peak bagger. Besides,
we’d started hiking just after 11:30 that morning; I don’t think I had enough
daylight to summit and hike almost 5 miles back down.
While waiting for Molly on the saddle, I had a few
interesting conversations. The first was with a former Marine/current hotshot
(wilderness firefighter). He vagabonds in the off-season. Needless to say, we
could have talked for hours. He found me on Facebook the next day, so I’m
hoping I’ve made a new friend.
Soon after the hotshot left, a girl limped down from the
summit trail, using trekking poles as crutches. She’d sprained her ankle while
taking a jump-shot selfie on the summit. She seemed suitably embarrassed. A few
minutes later, a group of SAR guys appeared on the scene and were super sweet
and non-judgmental. (That must be part of their training.) After explaining her
options, it was decided that she’d be air-lifted off the mountain. Seems
excessive for a sprain, but it was definitely the easiest way to get her down.
Molly was feeling fabulous after summiting the highest point
in Arizona, and we hurried down the mountain at dusk. We stopped at this
spectacular view, and I thought, “Then sings my soul…” Appropriate, since I was
singing that for church the next day.
We ended our adventure with Café Rio and a brief visit at
Jack and Allison’s. I love Molly’s adventurous spirit and am looking forward to
our next hike!
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