Monday, October 26th, 2026
Monday, October 26th, 2026: AZ Summits, Hikes, Southeast Arizona.
Long hiatus since my last hiking Dispatch. Trying to rest the ball of my left foot, chronically inflamed as a result of error by clueless physical therapist last January. Still getting twinges, so I believe foot is simply fucked, but I’ll give it a shot with, as usual when recovering, short hikes on level ground.
In recent trips to my new favorite area, I’d glimpsed a broad, winding wash down in the canyon bottom below the mesa road, with a distinctive conical peak rising on the other side. It’s a scenic spot, and from above, it looked like our broad sandy washes in the desert – very inviting for someone who needed an easy walk.
There’s a two-track turnoff from the mesa road just before that section of canyon, and the old topo maps show it leading down to a corral on the bank of the wash. I didn’t know if my low-clearance, 2wd pickup would make it down and back, but it was worth a try. I’ve been hoping to do a canyon walk in the “hidden maze” farther in the backcountry, so this could hopefully be a trial run.
The sky was mostly clear with clumps of cumulus on the horizon, and at these elevations – just above 4,000 feet – the high was forecast in the mid-70s.
I reached the turnoff and found it rough and little-used, with the grade doable until I reached a ledge halfway down. Past there it was steeper, with big loose rocks – not ideal, but I figured the little pickup could get back up if I built up some speed.
I made it to the big corral, where an impressive solar array pumped water that overflowed a couple of large steel stock tanks. No sign of cattle, though – recent rains had filled potholes in the volcanic rock all over this landscape, so the beeves were widely dispersed.
I walked a short distance in powder sand to the big wash, and was immediately shocked and discouraged by what I found: ridges and gullies of loose, coarse rocks driven down and built up by powerful floods, with humped bedrock formations lurking in between. Imagine walking on that while trying not to put weight on the ball of your foot! I’ve done it many times before, and it’s neither fun nor ultimately effective.
But I was here. Maybe it would get easier upstream – hah!
Of course, a few hundred yards upstream was the narrows, which was even worse. But the rock formations were impressive, drawing me onwards in my slow, painstaking fashion.
Past the narrows, the canyon bottom widened, and I encountered short, narrow stretches of loose sand – not ideal to walk on either – but mostly I found long fields of rock and coarse gravel that had to be taken slowly and carefully.
I’d hoped to at least reach the mouth of the first big side canyon, two miles up. But it took me nearly an hour to go a mile, and despite the mild temps, I was exposed, sweating, and having no fun, so I gave up and turned back.
One pleasant surprise was the creosote bush, blooming and looking really healthy all over this elevation range.
Returning up the two-track toward the mesa road, my little pickup did get bogged down on the steep grades of loose rock. Twice I had to back up to level spots, get out and rearrange the bigger rocks, and gun the engine, bashing the undercarriage to get past the grades. Hope to get my high-clearance 4wd back soon, but that’s not guaranteed either.
With my canyon hike cut short, I wanted to investigate another two-track shown on the map that crosses the canyon farther upstream and leads to mining prospects tucked away in the rugged foothills. The clouds had moved over, improving what is already a spectacular landscape.
The mesa road descends toward the canyon bottom where it emerges from between two mountains, and that’s where I found the next two-track. I turned off on it and was immediately hemmed in between high banks with no place to pull over or turn around. After a few hundred yards the trail entered the dry wash itself, and I stopped. I knew my pickup couldn’t handle the loose gravel and rocks of the wash, but there was no place to turn around. I literally had to back up for hundreds of yards, to get back to the mesa road. Live and learn.
