Resting at the top of Humphrey's Peak, AZ (ele. 12,637)
You know how sometimes you get so busy with your day or so caught up with things that you forget to eat? Well, I did that, except it wasn't food. It was taking a break. When we were planning that Yosemite trip I mentioned in that last post, I came to the realization that the last vacation I'd taken was a solid decade before that. A FREAKING DECADE! I'd had days off here and there, but I hadn't taken any real time for myself since my trip to Chile after graduating high school. Totally unacceptable. I can't tell you how many Facebook/Instagram/Myspace (yes...It had been that long) I'd seen of people going on cruises, exploring Europe, or bouncing around the wild in the states. Too many hard events had gone on in my life, up until that point for me not to take a knee for a minute and gather myself. Yosemite helped me figure that out. This first trip to a high point wasn't as much a vacation, as it was finally a moment where I said I was doing something for myself. I can't tell you how important that is as a person. More on that in a sec...
8 east in the morning. Say what you will about the barren wasteland that is the eastern California/ western Arizona desert, but they get some amazing sunrises/sunsets.
I mentioned earlier how I hadn't taken like...any time for myself. That also includes taking time to go see my favorite band. Who does that? Thrice, had managed to play several shows in the Southern California area for years and I just didn't go. Kevin, my high pointing comrade and I share a love for this band. So when they posted that they were going to be at the Summer's End festival in Tempe, we decided we would get two birds with one stone; Thrice and a first high point. It was definitely far from Kevin's first time seeing Thrice. This dude flew out to London to see them and Brand New at Wembley Arena (now THAT'S dedication), but for me, this trip was going to be a defining moment. Man, that sounds like I'm being dramatic, but not only was I starting this new mildly epic adventure for 50 high points, but I was seeing the boys from Thrice.
The Salt River in Arizona
Our drive out east started with that sunrise in the picture above. I can't really say much about Arizona, but those sunrises/ sunsets over the desert are definitely a highlight. This trip proved to be a marathon (you'll see this is a common theme in our trips). We left San Diego at the butt crack of dawn to make the 6 hour drive to Phoenix. Kevin's sisters live out there so we popped over for a quick nap and some water before heading out to Tempe to catch the festival. As a San Diegan, anything over 90 degrees Fahrenheit is stupid and shouldn't be endured by any human person . It was well over 100 that afternoon as we crossed the Salt River. I, like a jackass, decided to get a cartoonishly large margarita for lunch (gotta hydrate). Safe to say the heat assured a buzz. Beyond enduring the general terribleness that was Arizona in the summer....or fall, winter, and spring (Sorry AZ folks), Thrice was entirely worth every moment in the ninth circle of hell.
This might be a bad picture, but Thrice is definitely the best band in the world.
That night we enjoyed some memories with Jimmy Eat World, saw Spoon (which was a little weird for me), were blown away by Brand New, and I finally saw Thrice. I could write a whole dissertation on Dustin Kensrue's lyrics, but this isn't a blog about awesome music. Just go YouTube them. By the time we left, it was definitely after midnight which was going to be a problem the next morning considering we had to drive north of Flagstaff (again at the butt crack of dawn). We took a quick overnight nap and headed north through some more of the barren wasteland that is the desert of Arizona. We DID drive through Sedona on the way up, which is gorgeous. I definitely recommend spending some time there if you get the chance.
You can almost see where the summit would have been if you draw an imaginary line upwards between the two points on the left
Approaching the mountain was pretty awesome. I guess it's an old extinct volcano that blew half its top off much like Mount Saint-Helens like forever ago, so seeing that from miles away as it rose up from the desert floor was just about epic. We rolled through Flagstaff and up the hill to begin our hike. (Something to note here, you'll notice that on most of these high point adventures we don't tend to take too much time to acclimate to the thin air. BAD idea folks. If you can, definitely do so, but more on that in later posts). I got out of the car as soon as we parked and I ran to the bathroom. I should say, "ran" because coming from San Diego which has an elevation of like 0 feet to somewhere around 9,300 ft cut that run pretty short. I wondered immediately how the rest of the hike was gonna go if I could barely make it from the car to the port-a-potty without losing my breath.
The actual Hike itself is easy and pretty amazing. People call this part of Arizona "little Colorado" and I can see why. You forget pretty quickly that you were just in an arid desert where you could almost see the coyote chasing the road runner, when you're walking through a gorgeous forest full of pine trees and deer. From the Humphrey's Peak trail head, the path is well warn and easy to follow. There were plenty of people working their way up as we started. Our pace was pretty impressive considering the events the night before. The trail winds through the forest occasionally giving you glimpses of your surroundings, but it's not until you approach the saddle that you really see how gorgeous the top of Arizona really is.
Sneaking a peak out westward between the trees.
360 of the view at the saddle. When you get the the trail is to the left. In the image it's far right behind those rocks.
At the saddle the trail gets a little difficult to find if you're not looking. Make a hard left around the boulders and you'll be back on it. At this point on our trek, the air was pretty thin but luckily we weren't encountering many people on our walk up. At one point, I jumped onto a rock that was on the edge of the trail with a pretty decent drop off to what looked like a painful death. I landed on one foot just as a pretty gnarly gust of wind blew me off my balance. Luckily, I managed to fall straight down on to the rock on which I was standing. Just remember, people die doing stupid shit in everyday life. Don't do stupid shit. From then on, you meander over lots of rocks to the eventual summit.
Man.. taking those last steps to the summit almost felt like when you watch Star Wars: A New Hope for the second time. You are totally amazed at what happened, but you know there's way more awesome stuff ahead. I say almost, because the euphoria of standing on the highest point in Arizona was cut short by 6 piercing words: "BECKY...MY BACK IS SO SWEATY." Picture that, but in the most annoying college freshman sorority girl voice OF ALL TIME. No sooner do we see the sign that says "Humphrey's Peak Summit" than we see a gaggle of sorority girls from the university down the hill. We literally waited about 20 min to take a few pictures at the summit due to the line of girls all needed to update their tinder pics. It was around this time that I had to remind myself where I was and what I was doing.
I feel like I look like Lieutenant Dan in this picture.
I seem to find life lessons in the weirdest places. After barely sleeping, Kevin and I endured a long hike at elevation, through a gorgeous forest, in an amazing place, only to reach the highest point in the state of Arizona. Was I going to let 15 minutes of irritation ruin my whole experience? I easily could have let the constant screaming and general annoying conversations from the sorority ruin this place, but I think it's in moments like these that we need to remind ourselves that there are always going to be things trying to rob you of your joy. Even in the middle of nowhere. Whether you believe in God or not, I think most people can agree that we are constantly waging a war against something trying to steal our joy. Now, I say joy pretty deliberately. Joy isn't necessarily happiness. Happiness is circumstantial, at least in my opinion. Joy, is what I find in the face of adversity. As small a victory as it was, being able to sit there on a rock with my feet dangling over the edge of Arizona and find stillness and silence with the ruckus going on only a few yards away, was a big deal for me. Over the course of the past 10 years, I'd seen my best friend pass away suddenly, endured some pretty tough betrayal from people I thought cared about me, and I had not once taken a second to let those things really happen to me. I think that we try to "be good" so much that we forget to mourn things in our lives. Mourning is a process. It takes time. It hurts. It sucks. But it's all part of growing and moving forward. Take the time to mourn the things you need to mourn. Take time to really embrace the victories you've seen as well. We tend to brush past those because we're so "busy." Bear with me for a second here... Back in the day, when the Israelites were wandering the desert, they encountered LOTS of obstacles. Whenever they came through those (almost always with a few scars), they would build themselves an Ebeneezer. They'd stack some stones to commemorate the victory that God had brought them through. Notice, I didn't say the "horrible moment," I said victory. They had a physical reminder of when they were overcommers. Remember that when you're in the middle of suffering, one day you're going to look back and see that that is a victory. I know, if you're suffering right now, it may not feel like it. Think of all the other moments you've come through. Stack your stones. Not to look back and grieve, but to look back and say "Yes, I conquered THAT, on this day." As I write this, it was exactly a year ago on September 26, 2015 that I made my ebeneezer. Go stack your stones...
"Here I raise my Ebeneezer, hither by Thy help I come..." -Come Thou Fount c. 1757