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, Doug, Sam, Jenni, Chris, Wayne, 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 1800s, 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 switchbacking up the western slope of Picketpost, and although we are getting a little closer, the prominent saddle-shaped peak still seems 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.