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Picketpost Mountain Hike
Superior
February 21, 2004
by Chuck Parsons
The date is Saturday, February 21, the time is 9:20 AM, and the
temperature stands at a cool and refreshing 60 degrees, as seven
Arizona Trailblazers and guests (Barry Altschuler, Doug East,
Sankar Gopalasubramanian, Jenni Jacobs, Chris Consolino, Wayne
Shimata, and hike leader, Chuck Parsons) gather at the Picketpost
Mountain Trail sign for our first group picture, before striking
out on the Arizona Trail. We hike for about a quarter-mile on
this segment of the Arizona Trail, actually more like a jeep road
at this point, before coming to the Picketpost Trail junction,
marked only by a small rock cairn at trail's edge. Were we to
continue south past this junction, we would eventually arrive at
the Mexican border, since this almost completed trail takes the
hiker from Mexico all the way north to the border with Utah.
However, on this beautiful Saturday morning, we decide to forego
hiking all the way to Mexico and elect to make a turn at the rock
cairn and head for the base of Picketpost, looming ahead in the
distance. The trail, an old mining road at this point, is
well-defined and easy to follow for the next half-mile, as it winds
through pristine desert terrain of saguaro, barrel, and prickly
pear cactus and palo verde and mesquite trees, before depositing
us at the mouth of an open, gaping abandoned mine shaft that drops
about ten vertical feet into a blind hole. A rusting water pipe
with jagged holes emerges from the ground to cross over the top of
the shaft, before merging once again with the earth on the opposite
side. Just ahead of the mine shaft lies a battered and weathered
trail sign, marking the actual beginning of the real Picketpost
Mountain Trail.
Originally named Tordillo Mountain by early Spanish explorers and
Mexican settlers in the region, soldiers under General George
Stoneman, commanding officer of Arizona's troops engaged in the
Indian Wars of the late 1800's, begin calling the mountain Picket
Post. General Stoneman and his men built a small encampment at the
mountain's base in the winter of 1870, as their base of operations
and to guard the tiny settlement of what was to eventually become
the town of Superior to the east. The top of the mountain gave
commanding views of the surrounding area and settlement and became
a great sentinel point, so the name Picket Post stuck. Some time
later, Picket Post became part of a vast network of outposts, known
as heliograph stations. These stations were built on peaks and
mountaintops scattered across southern Arizona, using large signal
mirrors to communicate with one another. At the base of the
mountain, troops soon began construction of a pack-mule trail that
would eventually connect with the distant Pinal Mountains.
The trail immediately begins switch backing up the western slope
of Picketpost Mountain, and although we are getting a little closer,
the prominent saddle-shaped peak still seems almost impossible to
reach by way of a hiking trail. As we weave our way through and
around rock piles and small pinnacles, we begin to see the distinct
white arrows and splotches of purple-brown spray painted onto the
rocks that help the hikers find their way from here to the summit
of Picketpost. We soon arrive at our first obstacle, a rather
steeply sloping slickrock face, that also marks the end of the
well-defined and easy to follow trail and the beginning of periodic
rock scrambling, boulder hopping, and route finding to locate the
next segment of often elusive trail. It was at this very spot that
I started a small rock slide several weeks earlier on a pre-hike
that discouraged my hiking partner from going any further. Sorry
about that rock hitting you in the leg, Beth, and for the nasty
bruise and scratches it left behind. This time we work our way
up and around the easier right side of the rock face, which does
not have the treacherous loose rock found on the left side.
As we continue to slowly work our way up the slope, we find ourselves
in deep shade and feel the temperature steadily dropping, as a cold
wind hits us. A quick temperature check on my handy thermometer
reveals a bone chilling 50 degrees. We almost postponed this hike
earlier in the week, because of a 30% chance of showers today, but
this bright, sunny day with clear blue skies overhead and a few
scattered high cirrus clouds clearly indicates otherwise. Despite
the white arrows, paint splotches, and occasional rock cairns that
mark the way, the trail simply runs out from time to time, forcing
us to scramble over and around large boulder piles, as we move up
to the next level and try to locate it once again. We are now moving
southward across the western face of Picketpost, as we make our way
to a hidden draw.
The draw, largely unseen from our perspective, marks our passage to
the summit of Picketpost Mountain. The trail soon becomes very steep
in places, and the loose rock scree is beginning to make for some
treacherous footing, especially on the way back down. On my pre-hike
several weeks earlier, I had a bad fall in one of these loose rock
areas on the way back down and injured one of the support ligaments
on my right knee. For that reason, I suggested that everyone bring
a hiking stick for extra stability on this hike, something I
neglected to do earlier and regretted. As we move closer to the
Picketpost draw that will carry us to the summit, we confront our
largest slick rock section on the trail, a huge, steeply tilted
slab of smooth granite that requires some delicate maneuvering to
navigate without slipping or falling. This was the major area I was
concerned with in the event of rain, since a wet surface here would
be next to impossible to cross without slipping and falling. We all
manage to cross it without incident on this fortunately dry day.
Now within clear view of the draw, we must navigate up and over
several more large boulder stacks before finally hitting level
ground for a while. From here, the trail is relatively easy to
follow, as it moves towards the south end of the saddle that marks
the 4,375' peak of Picketpost Mountain. Just when the unwary hiker
thinks he has at last conquered the mysteries of this elusive trail
and no more surprises await, he is fooled one last time into
following the trail to the right at the base of the summit, when
you really want to go left. As we start one last rock scramble to
reach the top, we catch our first sighting of the famous red mailbox
that marks the actual summit of Picketpost Mountain. We work our
way up over rocky terrain in a straight line towards the mailbox.
The time is exactly 11:30 AM, as we all stand around this rather
strange summit marker and begin to examine it and its contents, as
we sit down to a well-deserved lunch break.
As we eat our lunches and admire the surrounding views, we pass
around one of several sign-in logbooks from the mailbox and check out
some of the previous comments, as well as add a few of our own. One
I remember in particular comments on the trail: "I will probably
never hike this trail again. Did I say trail – what trail?"
Inside the box we also discover several colorful water color drawings from
a budding young artist named Meagan. A small inscribed sheet of aluminum
riveted to the inside of the mailbox door tells the story of this
unique and somewhat battered mountaintop mailbox. A local hiker placed
it here in 1994, but it had originally resided in Lynden, Washington
for a number of years, "where it was run over twice – once
by a John Deere tractor and once by a drunken Guatemalan."
The views from Picketpost are incredible, especially on a clear day
such as this, although there is a bit of haze on the horizon that
prevents us from seeing everything we had hoped for. To the east lies
the old mining town of Superior, to the northeast we can see the Sierra
Anchas range, to the northwest we spot the Superstitions, Weavers
Needle, and even Four Peaks, and then Camelback Mountain to the west.
On a really clear day, I am told you can even see all the way south to
the Santa Catalinas north of Tucson, but it is a bit too hazy for that
today. Like much of Arizona's landscape, Picketpost Mountain is
testimony to ancient volcanic activity, and the summit is a thick cap
of lava that lies over thicker layers of volcanic tuff that flowed from
a large vent on the mountain's east side approximately 18 million years
ago.
After lunch, we make our way across a large, flat expanse of scrub
desert to the eastern bluff of Picketpost Mountain for a better view of
the town of Superior. From here, we can see the entire town lying
below and just to the east. A large, gleaming white building sitting on
the northwestern edge of town marks the latest mining activity in this
old copper mining town. However, copper is not the quarry here, but
perlite instead. A whitish gray and almost beady form of volcanic glass,
perlite is mined in the hills to the east of Picketpost and has given
renewal and new hope to this town, whose copper mines have long since
played out. Under heat and pressure, perlite expands and becomes a
good lightweight aggregate used in plaster, various insulating materials,
and gardening soil. Strange black chunks of obsidian, known as Apache
Tears, are also found near here in an area some of you may know as
Apache Leap.
After taking a few more group shots overlooking Superior and pictures
of the town itself, we decide to start the long trek back down the
mountain. Although this hike is only a little over two miles in length,
it is a very long two miles, due to the rock scrambling and route
finding. The hike back down almost seems to take as long as the ascent,
since we have to tread very slowly and very carefully over the steeper
sections of the trail with loose rock scree. Despite our extra
precautions, however, a couple of hikers still take a spill, but
fortunately nothing serious. Also, despite the trail being easier to
follow on the descent, we still manage to get sidetracked a couple of
times and finally arrive back at the trailhead at about 3:00 PM.
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