December 20-23, 2023.
With rain in the forecast and having no prior experience dispersed camping in Arizona, I decided our best bet would be to camp in actual campgrounds. It’s not my favorite thing to do, but I didn’t want to get stuck in the mud. We were fast approaching the Christmas holiday and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to find a place to stay, but I lucked out and booked 3 nights at Lost Dutchman State Park.
As we pulled into our campsite, I was thrilled to see it guarded by a huge saguaro! Another bucket list item checked off. Previously, I’d only seen saguaro cactus in the roadrunner cartoons. I’d been dying to see one in real life. And here they were, all over the park. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay in a campground.
Later that afternoon, I got sick and tired of being sick and tired so I decided to take an easy walk. I threw on my backpack, which is always ready to go, and set off on a trail in the campground. Within 5 minutes of walking, I saw the flash of shiny feathers: a roadrunner! Then, the quick blur of a rabbit’s tail. Gila woodpeckers clinging to the sides of the saguaro. Chattering curved-bill thrashers. It was a wildlife paradise. And the backdrop to this nature show: the dramatic, towering spires of the Superstition Mountains.
According to my research, there is one thing to do here, and that is to climb the Flatiron. It is only six miles roundtrip, but with 2600′ elevation gain and some steep sections, it would be a push. I was still feeling pretty sick, but with the rain coming the next day I knew this was my only chance. I left early and loaded up a bag with supplies so I could take all the time I needed. Being under the weather is no fun, but I knew I’d feel better after hiking up a hill.
I followed the trail as it gradually ascended the slopes below the striking massif in front of me. At the base of Siphon Draw, a large gully slicing into the rock cliffs, the trail steepened. I began seeing a few other hikers on the trail. I let them pass me, opting to take lots of rest and move as slowly as my body needed to. It was so beautiful; I was in no rush.
The trail abruptly ended at a slickrock bowl that funneled into the gully. The inviting, smooth rock ended all too soon. Not entirely sure where to go at this point, I followed the path of least resistance into a brushy cactus slope to my right. Had the other hikers gone left? It looked like that led to a dry waterfall! Stopping to catch my breath and blow my nose, I looked up and saw an old man tying his boot. “Oh hi!” I said, and we exchanged some pleasantries. I picked up on his New England accent right away so we chatted some more. It was his first time on the route as well, and he also seemed unsure which way to go. “This way looks good,” I said and took off up the hill. He started up behind me at an even slower pace. I didn’t want to wait for him, but I felt bad leaving him behind.
Just as I had that thought, I saw a couple headed towards me, then I heard some more voices. Of course, this is a popular route, there will be plenty of people to keep eyes on that guy. I pushed ahead.
From that point on, I picked my way up the gully one step at a time. I kept seeing more people, headed up and headed down. People hiking solo and people in groups. Old people, young people, kids, families. People with no backpacks, people with supplies, people with water bottles. People in jeans, shorts, t-shirts, hiking garb, track suits. I actually couldn’t believe how many people were up here in this pretty gnarly, dirty chute. It felt more like New England hiking than west coast hiking, a very rough, get-to-the-top kind of route. Either the people out here are really badass or oblivious to the hazards; I guessed a bit of each.
Near the top of the gully, I got stuck behind a large group of hikers who were calling out every single move for every single person. I stopped and waited for them to figure it out, then started walking again. I didn’t mind the break. Well, after repeating this about ten times and getting pretty annoyed I finally grabbed an opportunity to pass. That obstacle sorted, I had one more to go: a ten-foot vertical step. Wait, what? If I hadn’t seen people coming down that section I would have been really confused where to go. But there it was. I wasn’t too concerned about getting up but I knew I’d hate coming down. I figured if all these yokels could do it, I’d sort it out later. Up I went and hurried off to the viewpoint.
It was an absolute circus of people when I got up there, all talking loudly for some reason, so I took a quick picture and scampered off. I saw two alternate highpoints to scramble to from the top of the Flatiron and decided to head toward Ironview Peak.
Its summit is guarded by a labyrinth of gendarmes. Not to mention all the cactus, too. I carefully sniffed out a path between all these obstructions, which meant some crawling under, scrambling over and squeezing in between those big rock spires. After 20 minutes or so, I looked up towards the final section and saw two heads looking down at me.
“Is there an actual trail up here?” I asked. They mentioned something about a path marked with cairns, then we talked a but about hiking in the area. Once we parted ways I was just a few minutes away from the summit marker. From that peak, I delighted in views of the Superstitions that I couldn’t get from the Flatiron. I was in awe. Once I found a good sit spot, I ate my lunch and did some painting. A curious rock wren kept me company most of the time. Crows circled overhead. This place was magic.
On the way down, I was able to pick up my pace. I lingered on top; I knew Aaron would be wondering what took me so long. Luckily my snotty airways were not a hindrance coming down and my legs felt strong. Once I got to that wall I’d been dreading, I was very close to asking someone below to spot me. But he left before I could utter the words. Alone, I remembered what I observed on my hike up and rehearsed the moves in my head. I really hate downclimbing. But, I pulled it together and it was easier than I thought. With that behind me, it was easy to scramble the rest of the route down to the trail. I messaged Aaron to let him know my ETA and happily bounded down the remainder of the hike.
Camping in the rain
The rest of our time at Lost Dutchman was pretty chill. The campground is quite nice. I loved being surrounded by Saguaro cactus. There were many other cool cacti and plants and spring must bring bursts of wildflowers. The dreary clouds and moisture had its own charm as well.
We took a couple of field trips, one to the Goldfield Ghost Town for dinner and holiday lights (skippable) and the Superstition Mountain Museum. I really enjoyed the history museum, especially because we had the whole place to ourselves! We learned a ton about the myth of the Lost Dutchman mine that drew many a prospector trying to strike it rich. Plus displays teaching about Native Americans, infrastructure, natural history and more. There were several walking paths and outdoor exhibits that would have been nicer on a warm, spring day. But it was brown, drizzly and cold. The highlight for me was finding a small covey of Gambel’s quail, a new quail for my list!