Catching up, 3: Flatiron hike, Superstition Mountains

 

March 21, 2022

It is ten minutes to seven, and we have just arrived at the parking lot at the foot of the Superstition Mountains. On the short drive from Mesa the temperature dropped from 11 to 7 degrees Celsius, and the trail leading up to the Superstition Wilderness lies in the shade. That's what we had hoped for, and the reason why we started out so early. This hike will be hard enough without having to deal with the heat that will invariably arrive later. Yet the sun has been up for not quite half an hour, and whatever it touches is glowing in a green-golden light. It is a beautiful morning!

After not being able to travel for the past couple of years we are back here for the first time since 2019, and I well remember how difficult it was for me then. I have my doubts that I will make it, but Johann and Aaron are determined, and I will go as far as I can and turn around if necessary. I'd love to stand up on the jutting rock of the Flatiron again, though: I also remember the feeling of accomplishment. This is my second time, Johann's third, and Aaron's fourth time to tackle this trail.

Aaron has looked at the photos from last time and tells us that we were at the 'thumb', a jutting rock we can see from here, at 9 am last time. That will be our first stop where we have a bite to eat. It is easy walking for this first part, the trail climbing slowly, the surface rocky but relatively smooth, and the clean, fresh air makes it a pleasure to walk. Birds are singing everywhere in the shrubbery around us; it is still amazing how many live here, and how varied their songs are. The hillsides are starting to turn yellow from the brittlebush coming into flower. We arrive at the thumb after 40 minutes, at 7:40. Great!

Few hikers are up and about, only a handful besides us, but we meet two people with dogs coming back from a hike already, though certainly not from the top yet.

Bit by bit the trail gets steeper and rockier, and we're putting on the gloves we brought: they will prove invaluable when the really steep and rocky section starts. We take another short break at the foot of the smooth, pretty steep sliprock wall that is one of the amazing features of this hike, and then walk up quite easily. Here, I am not afraid since the footing is firm and the grade is not so steep that I feel I'm not in control. I do remember the next section, though, slippery with gritty dirt and steep; in my memory it was the scariest part of the whole hike. I try the alternate route which Johann took and discouraged me to do because he thought the slippery section was easier, and he was right: I don't think I can safely gain the ridge this way and turn around. Finally I'm up, heart beating, still scared to turn around to see where I just came from, but safe.

We have come about two-thirds of the way at this point, distance-wise at least. Time-wise we are maybe halfway up since the most cumbersome part is yet to come. From here on there are only rocks we have to climb over, and it is steep up the 'Siphon Draw'. Looking for footholds, pulling yourself up and over, looking for the best way up becomes the only focus here. We are still in the shade, and shrubs are growing here in this narrow channel, but cacti as well: one more thing to look out for. Every once in awhile there are even small trees, and here and there their branches or exposed roots are worn smooth from the many hands gripping them for support.

We meet a couple of people coming back from a very early climb. One man tells us that this is his 377^th time 'doing the Flatiron', that he comes two to three times a week. A group passes us (I am slow and stop often to catch my breath), and one of the hikers tells us that we should come on Christmas Eve: then, a father and his sons serve pancakes up on the Flatiron. They bring grills and griddles and batter and even eggs up, and it has become a Christmas Eve tradition for many hikers in the area to come up for a pancake breakfast.

Finally we have arrived at the so-called 'Wall', likely the most difficult part of the hike (though to me no more challenging than the slippery section I traversed earlier). An experienced hiker coming down tells us that there are three ways to climb up, and to her the left side is the easiest (all the way up the recommendation is usually to stay to the left), the right the hardest, done by seasoned hikers, the middle part likely the most used. Here, a tree offers its roots for support. We opt for the middle. Johann goes first, and Aaron comes behind me, and with their advice from above and below I manage to find the right places for feet and hands and am up and over without too much trouble.

Now, it's only a very short while until we reach the top of the draw and climb up onto relatively even ground. How wonderful to have made it! We turn right and walk along the trail to the Flatiron itself and sit on the smooth rocks in the sun, enjoying a snack and the great view. Chipmunks (at least I think that's what they are, cute striped little rodents) check us out, hoping for a morsel, no doubt. They have no problem jumping from rock to rock even close to the edge. A small lizard is stretched out on a boulder, chin resting on the rock, eyes half closed, blinking only rarely: it looks totally relaxed.

We are ready to climb down after this rest, or rather I am, and likely Aaron would be, too. Johann, however, heard the '377 time' man talk about 'the absolute peak, called 'the 5025' on this, the west side of the Superstition Mountains, 'just a bit higher, with a 360˚ view', and knowing about this he cannot just leave. He and Aaron go up, but I stay at the mouth of the draw, sit on a boulder, watch the ravens doing their breakneck flying acrobatics, talk to the odd hiker emerging from the draw or ready to descend.

One woman hiking alone tells me that this is her second hike, and while she thought she'd never do it again she needed to to deal with trauma left from her first hike. Then, she watched a woman fall 80' on her way down the wall. Her foot had got stuck, and a heavy backpack pulled her backwards when she tried to pull it out. 'She bounced two or three times, and if it hadn't been for the backpack she'd likely have broken her back,' she remembers. 'I stayed with her for three hours until the helicopter came.'

The day before friends we visited in an RV park told us that a hiker had fallen 700' to his death when he tried to take a photo. We think we are careful, but accidents still happen. It shows again that you have to remain attentive all the time.

Johann and Aaron return after more than an hour, happy to have been 'at the very top'. They had some trouble finding the trail at one point but made it in the end, and they claim it is indeed the culmination of the hike.

It is nearly one o'clock, and it's time to start the climb down. If we thought we'd be faster on the way back we were mistaken: it takes just as long to pick our way down over the boulders as it did coming up. This time we choose the option to the left (now the right, of course) to come down the Wall, and when we arrive at the part I dread most, the slippery section right above the sliprock wall, we find that there is an easier way around the right here, too, as somebody further up the trail told us. This time my knees aren't shaking when I've reached the sliprock.

To our surprise we find that we've been gone 9 1/2 hours when we reach the car: it is 4:30 pm. Our knees ache, and we don't know yet what else will hurt tomorrow. We so look forward to a 'Beergaritha' and a shower! But what a wonderful experience it has been once again! Asking ourselves now if we'll do this again next year we decide to postpone this question for another week or two.