Atascosa Lookout and Peak

December 31, 2023.

7.7 mi. | 2455′ ele. gain | 5:15 hr.

Sunrise

Photo album

One more hike on the last day of the year. We parked overnight at the trailhead, where we watched another stunning sunset. And that put me in position to get a dawn start on this hike. We had plans for an early dinner with a friend outside of Tucson, so I wanted to have plenty of time.

The trail to the lookout is fairly well maintained and easy to follow. I appreciated the cool temperatures the early morning brought, even if that meant I had to rally before dark. I seemed to chase the same two deer up the trail as I hiked, although I couldn’t be sure. I was certain of how beautiful it was, with sotol, agave and prickly pear dotting the desert landscape. Gorgeous golden hills extended in all directions and each turn of the trail brought a new perspective to the mountain I was on.

Atascosa Lookout

At the small lookout site, only a foundation remained. I sat on its edge and ate a snack as I contemplated my next move. I had about a mile of bushwhacking to the true summit and my head swirled with the numerous reports I read of the route the night before. It would be tricky getting off the backside. Follow the cairned route. No, don’t follow the cairned route. It’s easy. It’s hard. Yeah, that’s what good the internet provides. I knew I’d just have to figure it out on my own.

I was not a huge fan of how the descent looked off the summit. Below my feet were what appeared to be loose aggregations of boulders held together by prickles and spines. I carefully descended right of center to avoid the worst bits and then veered back toward the ridge proper. Once I got back on track, I still had to figure out my way through or over the maze of boulders between the lookout and the summit. Occasionally, I stumbled across a cairn, but no two cairns were visible at the same time so they were pretty useless. I kept my eyes looking ahead at the destination and tried to avoid the worst of the vegetation and drop-offs.

Atascosa Peak

It was slow but not too awful. Only a few moves required my full attention. I noticed specific kinds of debris along the way: a torn backpack, a shoe, a can of snuff, an empty tuna packet. Flotsam from migrants or smugglers traveling between the US and Mexico. As I’ve come to spend time along the border, the politics, tensions and humanity of this invisible line is very apparent. I paused to think about the difficulty of traversing a landscape like this when your life depends upon it, versus being out on a fun little day hike. I only had to walk on this ridge for a mile, what about those who need to travel tens or hundreds of miles? In the heat, with no water sources and with every plant trying to tear the flesh from your bones? It’s incredible that anyone makes it through.

December phlox!

At the summit, I enjoyed the serene landscape and plotted my return. I tried to follow the cairns back, which I almost did. When I lost them for good, I stood and looked around for any sign of the route. I didn’t find it, but I did notice three furry tails sticking into the air like periscopes: coatis! It was my first wild sighting. When I worked in a zoo right out of college, I took care of a couple coatis. Otherwise, I likely wouldn’t have known of their existence.

The coati was too busy rooting around for food to show its face.

I was so glad to have let the cairns pull me off course for this chance sighting. Once they shuffled off, I fought my way back on the ridge and found the cairns again. I followed them until they petered out again. At that point I ended up in a thicket of catclaw acacia just below the lookout. It tore at every piece of clothing and square inch of exposed skin as I moved along the shortest path through it. Then, at the base of the previously intimidating, crumbly step that I avoided on my way down, I realized it actually wasn’t that bad. I scurried straight up the rock and landed right on top of the concrete lookout base. It’s amazing how something can look completely different from an alternate perspective.

Not too far down the trail, I ran into my first people of the day. Then a couple more. I raced down the path so that we’d have plenty of time to make it to my friend’s house for dinner. I couldn’t help but stop at all the interesting little cacti and towering dead agave plants. It still feels like such a foreign landscape, everything so curious and inviting!

Leave a Reply