December 30, 2025.

6.2 mi. | 1610′ ele. gain | 3:30 hr.

Photo album

If you want to go hiking in the Phoenix area, you’ve got to get up early to grab a parking spot. Hiking is a popular activity, and despite there being lots of parks and trails, the popular ones go fast. I paid my entrance fee at Usery Mountain Regional Park and slid into the last parking spot at the Wind Cave trailhead lot.

Using a recommendation from local hiker, I planned to hike to the south summit of Pass Mountain and then decide if I wanted to go for the unofficial traverse route to the north summit and loop down. The forecast predicted strong winds, and since the route looked pretty scrambly and exposed, I wondered how much fun it would be in those conditions. I figured I’d play it by ear.

It was immediately clear that the trail to Wind Cave was the most popular in the park. Plenty of folks were already on the way back down as I began hiking up. I took my time and became acquainted with the mountain. The sheer cliffs stretched below the whole ridgeline; I had to either choose the out-and back route or complete the entire ridge. There were no bail-out options that I could see.

Once I reached the “Wind Cave,” where most people turn around, I continued up. A series of spray-painted marks signaled the easiest way to the summit. I climbed up the rocks to the summit overlook and enjoyed the views of the sprawling city. The wind was strong, but maybe I could just start the traverse and see how it felt. The trouble with reading route reports from strangers is that you don’t know what their skill and comfort levels are like. Some people are so dramatic describing the most mundane obstacles and others completely understate very dangerous and technical routes. So, who to believe? No one but myself and the landscape I see in front of me.

One of the reports I read mentioned a 20-foot tall chimney rated 5.5 (technical, but low 5th class climbing) with no options to bypass. This stressed me out because I hate chimneys and I wasn’t bringing a rope and climbing gear. This might be the thing that turns me back, I thought. Soon after beginning the traverse, I found the spot on the ridge that the author described, and I scrambled right over it with one hand holding my hiking poles. It was a class 2+ at best. Looking back, I have no photos of this feature so it must have felt like a total non-issue at the time.

That experience assured me that I’d be fine on the rest of the route. I followed a use trail most of the way along the ridge. In some spots where it disappeared, there was just a little easy bushwhacking to get to the next section. I hit all three highpoints that were labeled on Peakery to make sure I completed the whole ridge. It was lovely up there, though it did not feel like I was in Phoenix anymore! The wind blew hard all day and the weather was dreary and cool.

The descent was the worst part for me. I followed a steep trail down the other side and somehow ended getting off route. Then I found myself in a maze of lumps and drainages that were impossible to get out of. I could see people riding bikes on the trail just ahead of me but I got stuck in a can’t-get-there-from here situation. It was maddening, but eventually I got myself out.

I dodged bikes the rest of the way back, which was annoying. Too bad I didn’t notice the trail was multi-use before I planned my route. I really try to avoid those because I believe hiking and mountain biking are not compatible uses. It’s not enjoyable to be hiking along in a constant state of worry if a biker will come barreling down the hill at you. And there were a LOT of little hills and tight turns on this trail. I could not wait to get back.

Despite the general advice about “always stick to your plan,” I find it personally useful to have a few plans on board for hikes like this. Plan A is the big hike: the one I really want to do if everything lines up perfectly. In this case, the full traverse. Plan B is the definitely achievable but not as intriguing as Plan A. That was the up and back to the summit without the traverse. Plan C is the “oh shit” route, when something unexpected happens and you’ve got to bail. I thought about Plan C during the hike. I knew I couldn’t go down off the west side of the mountain due to the topography, but it looked like the east side had some ridges and gullies that would be annoying but passable. I’d only use Plan C if I absolutely had to.

These days, I would be completely irresponsible to go out alone WITHOUT some kind of communications device. I currently carry a Garmin InReach and previously I had a SPOT device. These are just two of several satellite communications tools that you can use to reach out in case of emergency. I haven’t had to use either device for that purpose but it’s nice to be able to message someone that you’re running late or whatever if you’re out of cell service. In the mountains surrounding Phoenix, I bet the cell service is pretty good.

I only saw a handful of people on either end of the traverse and lots of folks on the main trails. But I was likely the only one connecting the peaks today. So if you’re looking for solitude with 1.6 million people around, this is the place to go!

December 28, 2025.

5.7 mi. | 1310′ ele. gain | 5:10 hr.

Photo Album

I was tasked with finding a fun hike to do while camping with a friend near Apache Lake. Much of the developed recreation there is geared towards water activities: fishing, boating, paddling, etc. But I noticed a trailhead that accesses the Arizona Trail, plus an added bonus: a highpoint not far from the trail. I assured my friend we’d go slow to look at plants and could turn back at any time. She agreed. Let’s go!

We arrived at the Vineyard Trailhead on a sunny morning. I was excited to see what kind of vegetation we’d find and if anything would be blooming. And, of course, I was thrilled at the chance to get a peak in there too. We met through an online art group, so we also planned to do some painting along the trail.

This short section of trail was quite lovely. As we ascended the route, we got nice views looking back at the lake, dam and river. Zooming in at our feet, we delighted in all the little plants we found. I was surprised to find bright red paintbrush and some happy little phlox flowers. And I would be remiss to not mention the majestic, unusual, charismatic saguaro cactus boldly dotting the landscape.

It’s always fun to take a hike with someone else who’s just as interested in investigating all the weird plants and bugs and rocks. We stopped frequently to indulge our curiosity about the natural and man-made features in the hills. She knew the area much better than I did, so I was able to learn a bit more about the human history from her.

As we approached the top of Vineyard Mountain, we had to leave the trail and walk cross-country up a gentle hill that was thick with grasses, cacti and other plants. We walked slowly to avoid all the sharp thorns and ankle-turning rocks. When walking slowly, it’s easier to find things. Up there, we found brightly colored purple owl’s clover and red maids.

The summit area provided an incredible spot to sit and eat some lunch while overlooking the sprawling Salt River. The water sparkled in the strong sunlight. We each found a spot to take it all in. And after lunch, we got straight to painting. The scene was a bit overwhelming, and as usual, the hardest part about painting the scene was figuring out what to leave out. We enjoyed a good long break there, but eventually packed up to leave.

We hiked back the way we came. By the time we returned to camp, the temperature was dropping and the wind picked up. It dashed any hopes of kayaking the next day. But, we got to watch a magnificent sunset from camp, which was far better than any show on TV.