Climbing Mount Baldy

I knew we were in for an adventure when the wind started blowing. The air filled with haze and all the trees blew side-ward. 

Jordan and I began at 2:30 pm. I had no idea how long this would take and I brought my flashlight just in case. And to add to the adventure, I wasn't feeling so great. But we moved forward. 

The trail begins on the outskirts of town and follows along the foothills. The mountain was ravished by fire nearly eight years earlier and now the grass and scrub oak came in thick, but with no tall trees. 

For the first half-hour we paralleled a field of cattle. Other trails connected with ours, as well as a dirt road. We crossed through a couple gates meant to keep out cattle. At this point in the hike, the mountain blocked the bulk of the wind. 

The trail begins climbing upward.

Soon the trail made a hard turn toward the west and instantly we began climbing elevation. The trail was rough and rocky, with growth on both sides. I observed yarrow, mountain mahogany, and clumps of wild grass. 

Our destination for this afternoon was Mount Baldy. As the crow flies it was only 3.7 miles, but of course, no one can climb a mountain on the same path as the crow. I estimated that our serpentine route would add a couple more miles. 

As we progressed, the trail became steeper. The growth became taller. Now, stands of scrub oak became higher than our heads. We almost needed a machete to cut through the trail. We could see the valley below us become smaller, but Mount Baldy still loomed in the distance. 

Gaining elevation.

Then I shrieked like a girl and jolted backward. One more step and I would have been . . . dead meat! There, coiled on the trail, partially hidden by an overhanging leaf, was a wily-eyed rattlesnake! 

I am always worried about rattlesnakes when I hike. I brought a snake-bite kit with me, but didn't know how to use it. What would I do if I got bit? Would I call 9-1-1 and wait for a helicopter to pick me up? Unlikely that would happen here⸺especially with these winds. It was definitely best not to be bitten.

Now that I was sure I wouldn't step on him, we watched the serpent from a safe distance. His tail was tucked beneath him, but the diamond pattern on his scaled flesh revealed his identity. Soon he uncoiled and slithered beneath the bushes. Jordan was able to confirm the rattles on his tail. 

Rattlesnake #1.

We continued our hike, but were now a little paranoid. Instead of enjoying the scenery, I held a steady gaze at my feet and the trail just in front of me. 

As we continued to climb, the vegetation became thicker and greener. Now we found a few manzanita bushes, as well as patches of white columbine. A cluster of tall pines had escaped the wrath of fire. 

We were now two hours and fifteen minutes into our hike and had climbed nearly 2,000 feet in elevation. We came to a very small stream that trickled down the mountain. 

Steep climb to the summit.

White columbine.

At this point we had to leave the trail and scramble up the hillside. This was the only way to reach the peak. The climb was steep, but at least it was somewhat cleared from the burn. 

Then we crossed rattler #2. 

This one hissed at us, and once again startled me. Anytime I see a snake I recoil back, but even that is a scary proposition because you don't know if there is another one nearby that you may be stepping on.

Luckily for us, there was only one. He hid under a small bush and was heaped upon himself as if someone had squeezed a large sausage from a press and let it fall into one large, bulky pile. 

Rattlesnake #2.  Can you see him?

I surveyed different angles to get a picture, but none of them were great. The leaves of the bush stood in the way and I sure wasn't going to reach and move them! This serpent scarcely moved and we just decided to walk away. 

Forty minutes later, and after a couple false summits, we reached the peak of Mount Baldy! The wind picked up to near hurricane force, but the view was worth the strength of the gust. 

In the distant north we could see the hazy peaks of the Tushars. Before us, Kolob Canyons stretched out in a band of Navajo sandstone. To the south of them in alabaster white, the cliffs of Zion. We could spot Sand Hollow, Quail Creek, all the towns up the corridor, and a sliver of Bryce Canyon. It was truly spectacular. 

View from Mount Baldy looking southeast.

We sat on the lee-side of a rock at the summit and ate our lunch. Judging from the white droppings on the rock, we weren't the only creatures making a stop here. 

As we searched below and saw the freeways and little towns, we contemplated the remoteness of our situation and were amazed at the ruggedness of it all. Even in the midst of civilization, we were very removed from it. 

View from Mount Baldy looking northeast.

Snakes were also on our minds. Even though we had reached our goal, we would still face danger on the way down. It was humbling to know that no matter how cautious one might be, extreme danger may only be a step away, lurking in the grass or lying hidden beneath low-lying growth. 

We spent just over half an hour at the summit. Our walk down was pleasant, with the sun now blocked by mountains. The wildflowers and scrub oak felt a bit crisper. 

We enjoyed a pleasant conversation for most of the journey down. It was largely uneventful, having come across no snakes. Perhaps with our thoughts diverted with conversation, we simply didn't notice the snakes as we passed them by. ♠