A final hike and good-bye to my brother, Mike. Home beckons

The peak in the middle is Mt. Wrightson

As most of the readers of this blog know, my brother Mike died on New Year’s Day in 2009. He was only 57 and left us all way too soon. After he was cremated his wife wanted his ashes scattered at Grand Canyon because one of his first civilian jobs was at the Watchtower Gift Shop on the South Rim.

Last year as we left Arizona we made a side trip and left the majority of his ashes in the canyon within sight of the beautiful Watchtower that holds the gift shop.

We also left some of Michael’s ashes in the Catalina Mountains at the trailhead of Bug Springs hike that I do every year. Our sister Pam was at that spot when we scattered him there.

But I saved a few pounds of his ashes for a very special spot that I love here in Tucson. Overlooking the whole area is Mt. Wrightson (formerly Mt. Baldy) which is located high over Madera Canyon. It is the highest peak in Southern Arizona and sports a very challenging hike to the top.

Looking down from the trail

It was my intention to hike them up there last year, but for a variety of reasons I missed the hike last year. I have done the hike in previous years, but missed it in 2015. With my illness during much of March it was looking like I was going to miss the Wrightson hike again.

But as my health improved, the thought of keeping Michael’s ashes in the trailer for another year nagged at me. So after taking an 8-mile hike on Monday to Seven Falls and then repeating that very same hike on Tuesday with the Voyager hiking group  I started to feel the tug toward Mt. Wrightson.

Counting the miles I put on the two early hikes, Meet Me at Maynard’s I had already logged more than 35 miles this week, but I was feeling better and better and I told Joan on Wednesday that Mt. Wrightson was calling my name.



Only .9-miles left to the summit

Joan doesn’t like me hiking alone, but this is a hike I prefer to do alone. Alone, because I can do it at my own pace, stop and enjoy the views as I ascend. There are also plenty of folks who take that trail so I would never be more than 15-20 minutes from a passing hiker if something happened.

On Thursday, for Joan’s birthday I dropped her off at the Casino Del Sol for her fun day there while I came home and got ready for my Friday hike. Thursday night I attended my last Bible study class and went to bed to get a good night’s sleep for an early start on Friday.

I was up at 5:45 a.m. and out the door by 6 a.m. and on the trail by 7:05 a.m. It was a very chilly start with temperatures in the high 30s at an elevation of 5,400-feet in Madera Canyon. It got colder and colder as I ascended at by the time I got to Josephine Saddle at 7,000-feet my hands were so cold they wouldn’t work to unclasp my back pack. My fingers were frozen but slowly thawed as the hike slowly moved into the sun.

Mt. Wrightson from the second saddle

The hike up to Wrightson that I take is 7.1-miles and ascends 4,053 feet from the trailhead. Before when I’ve done this hike I have run out of water, so this time I took five full bottles of water, which was a lot of weight heading up. Add to that my usual lunch and snacks and this time my brother’s ashes and I had a pretty heavy pack for a day hike.

I began to feel the weight more and more as I hit a series of steep switchbacks that take you from Josephine Saddle to the next saddle just a mile below the summit of Mr. Wrightson. The switchbacks seem endless and with the extra weight I began to question my sanity. Clearly the recent illness compromised my lung capacity and I could feel it as I got above the 7,000-foot level of Josephine Saddle.

Me on the summit (Tucson is far in the background)

But I took frequent stops to catch my breath and listen to my heart beat. Aside: There is nothing quite as cool as being in a place so quiet and isolated that the only thing you can hear is your own breath and heartbeat. But I continued slogging up the mountain and when I got to the secondary saddle just before 11 a.m. I looked up and saw the looming summit and it seemed a long way up still.

For a moment I looked around and thought that the saddle might be an appropriate place to scatter Mike’s ashes, but quickly decided it would be a failure not to get him all the way to the top. I kept saying to myself “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother,” but it wasn’t working.
As any backpacker will tell you, every extra pound you carry begins to multiply in magnitude as you head uphill. An extra five pounds feels like 25 pounds in just a few miles.

My new friend Paul at the summit

I did make a good decision at the second saddle. With only a mile to go up the mountain, I off loaded and hid two bottles of water and most of my lunch behind a rock. That saved me about five pounds of weight for the final ascent and it clearly helped.

It is often cold on the top of Mt. Wrightson and eating lunch up there is not always a pleasant experience so I knew I would eat my lunch on the way down. Getting to the top of Mt. Wrightson is another series of switchbacks and included one spot that was snow and ice covered, which presents a challenge of not slipping and falling off a steep trail.

The final mile is not quite as hard as the section between the saddles, but knowing the end is in sight keeps one going. When I took the final switchback turn and saw the summit I spoke out loud to Michael: “We made it.” At the top of the mountain the clouds are just above your head as you can see from the photos.

More summit visitors (check out those clouds)

Once on top I had a few minutes to myself before another hiker arrived. “Paul” was a man my age who was making his first hike up the mountain and he took the photos of me on top. He was moved when I told him why I was there and what I was about to do. He offered to take a photo of the container I brought Mike’s ashes in, but I just didn’t want that.

I didn’t want to scatter his ashes right where people sit and enjoy the view so I walked about six feet down the south side of the mountain, found a beautiful collection of rocks and boulders, said a little prayer and scattered the remainder of Mike’s ashes there. It was a pretty emotional moment for me as this is the last of his remains.

The view from where I left Michael

After returning to the top of the mountain with Paul we were joined by a family of four, two of whom were making their first trip to the top of the mountain. We passed around the log book, which is kept in an Army ammo box with a pen, and signed in for the hike. Someone mentioned there was a geocache at the summit, but I don’t even know what that is. Before I left there were more than a dozen people on the summit.

Paul and I spent a pleasant half hour on the summit, which was surprisingly calm and warm, talking about our hiking experiences and the unbelievable view from the top. You can see almost all the way north to Phoenix and south to Mexico from the summit. Well, maybe not all the way to Phoenix but pretty close.

On the way down (the trail is in the center of the photo)

At this point with temperatures in the low 50s and light winds,  I regretted leaving my lunch behind at the saddle as it would have been a good day to eat on the summit. Too soon it was time to start down and the descent is almost as touch has the ascent because those steep ups and now steep downs and a little tough on the knees. I left ahead of anyone else as I prefer to keep my own pace down.

Back at the second saddle I found my lunch and water, ate and then continued on down. About halfway between the saddles my left leg started to cramp, and cramp badly. In a brief moment of panic I thought about how difficult it was going to be to get down with a cramped left leg. I took off my back pack, guzzled a pint of Gatorade in one of my bottles and the cramp released and fortunately did not return.

Some dainty flowers I found up on the mountain

Going down presents special challenges as you don’t want to fall forward because there is little to stop you along the steep sided trails if you fall. Once at Josephine Saddle I opted for the alternate Old Baldy  trail down. The Old Badly Trail is very steep, but two miles shorter than the less steep “Super Trail” I took up the mountain and being short on time (I was seven hours into the hike at this point) I wanted to get off the mountain quickly.

Even with the shortened miles, my feet and legs were tired and it seemed like forever until I arrived back at the parking lot at 3:05 p.m., exactly eight hours after I started. I immediately called Joan and let her know I was down and safe and told her I would be home shortly after 4 p.m. With our anniversary coming up on Sunday, I told her we could still go to the resort dance Friday night.

I briefly looked back at the Mt. Wrightson summit and said good-bye to my brother again. But I know every time I see Mt. Wrightson I will think of my brother on top. It will be moment of comfort and good feelings for me.

You are only two miles from the top at this spot

Back at the resort, I downed a can of diet Seven-Up and then another bottle of water and then took a shower. We finished the rest of the leftovers in the refrigerator and at 7 p.m. headed to the dance. It was a little challenging to dance after a nearly 14-mile hike, but we pulled it off and had a very good time. It is our last dance at the resort this season.

On Saturday, Joan returned to the casino for the day, while I headed back to the trailer and then went downtown for a real life massage. Man, did a massage feel good after the hike the day before. When the massage was over I headed back over to the casino and we went to dinner at the buffet. It was a Polynesian theme and it was really good. Joan had a buy one, get one free coupon for the dinner so it was pretty reasonable price wise as well.

A little snow near the top

On Sunday morning we headed to our last church service here at the Voyager and in the afternoon we went to a movie at the discount theater to see “The Revenant.”  With all our food exhausted in the trailer we went to dinner at Agave at Desert Diamond Casino (no gambling tonight) for their Sunday night Prime Rib special. We invited Walt along with us as Walt is a widower and fellow Men’s Bible study attendee.

This has become an annual event and one year we treat him and the next he treats us, which I understand isn’t really fair, but he enjoys the company and we enjoy his. This will be my last post from Tucson, but I’ll update you all on our travels home starting Tuesday night.

Our plan is to depart the park Monday evening after the traffic is light, drive to a rest area just south of Flagstaff and sleep in the trailer. In the morning we will finish the final 30 miles to the Camping World in Bellemont, Arizona (just outside Flagstaff) get the trailer winterized and then put it into storage.

After it is stored we will head north to Moab, Utah where we will spend a couple days with my sister Pam, brother-in-law Jeff and tour the Canyonlands. More later.