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. ♠

 

Rattlesnakes

We had driven for miles over rough roads across the desert to inspect the archaic inscriptions that were scattered among the black rocks. I brought my two daughters, ages 11 and 13, who wore tennis shoes and were eager to explore along the long jagged cliffs. It had rained just minutes earlier, giving a pungent smell to the air and a dampness to the dirt.

Jenna and I climbed over the rocks and had already found several glyphs. Some appeared to be random squiggly lines, while others were recognizable as animals or men. Depictions of humans bore horns on their heads, which from what I understand, represent power, not the devil.

Suddenly, Jenna announced that she had to use the bathroom and she darted down the rocks toward our vehicle. As I stood on a large slab that was precariously balanced over a small ledge, I heard her yell out, “Dad, I found a snake!”

I expected it to be a blow snake, or some harmless breed of serpent. But when I made it to Jenna's side, I examined the design and color of the snake's skin and knew at once this was a rattlesnake. The small reptile appeared to be “teenager” in size and sat motionless in a coil with his head resting on his body. The infamous “rattle” was out of sight for the moment. Entwined in a near perfect coil, Jenna mistook the serpent for a cow pie at first.

There are some people who claim they see rattlesnakes all the time, but I am not one of those people. I could probably count on two hands how many rattlesnakes I have seen in my lifetime. I recall finding one at a family reunion on the mountain and my dad promptly killing it with a shotgun.

I have never killed one personally, but will admit that I have a secret desire to photograph one. And not just any photo will do. I want the snake coiled up, with the rattle and head both showing. It must be crisp. I've taken one other picture of a rattlesnake and it didn't quite meet all the requirements.

So now I was standing two feet away from a creature with lethal venom, next to my daughter, and my biggest thought was to get a picture! Of course, I made sure that Jenna was at least four feet back. And by now, Savanah was there too.

“I think he's sleeping,” Jenna said. Indeed, the creature didn't move. I was half-tempted to find a stick and see if he was even alive. I decided against that, but instead stood two feet back and leaned as far forward as I could over the coiled snake to get an areal photograph. This worked for a few shots, but suddenly the serpent awoke, and his once hidden rattle whipped out and stood erect, and vigorously vibrated. We all stepped back as our heart rates doubled. The rattlesnake uncoiled and writhed for a moment before slithering to a nearby bush where he entwined once again.

I couldn't just leave the situation. I hadn't taken the perfect picture yet. Now the creature hid beneath the bush, and although we could see it, there were branches and a pesky little plant that blocked part of the view. And he wasn't showing his rattle anymore. I will admit that I made a couple controversial moves and shook of the bush and tossed a twig or two toward him. I considered goading with a stick, but decided I wasn't that desperate.

After several minutes of waiting, we decided to move on and continue looking for petroglyphs. It wasn't twenty seconds later when Jenna shouted out, “There's another one!” Just twenty feet away from the first, spiraled up and basking in the sun, a large rattlesnake watched as three humans gathered around him. He was at least twice as big as the first and it didn't take long before he slid beneath a nearby rock, but still in plain view beneath the shadow of the overhang.

His rattle made the noise of death and appeared to vibrate at a hundred miles an hour. As he coiled up, his tail passed directly in front of his face while his long black tongue flicked in and out. His head, neck, and upper section lifted from the rest of the body, as if poised to strike at any moment. I quickly tried to remember the rules of how far a snake could strike, not sure if it was the full length, or half. Either way, I kept my distance.

I was able to snap some pictures that I felt should be satisfactory. But every few seconds I would gaze behind me to be sure there wasn't another serpent at my feet. Jenna tried to film with her phone, but admitted that she was still shaking. She was standing in an ant pile and didn't even know it.

After ten more minutes, we once again decided that our stalking of the snakes must be abandoned. We let the nervous creature be to himself and the rest of us humans decided to continue on. Jenna, after being the one to discover both snakes, opted to spend the rest of her time inside the vehicle where she was safe from any venomous bite.

Savanah and I continued to inspect the rocks for ancient inscriptions, but I admit that we spent more time looking at the ground than at the rocks. To put it mildly, I was paranoid. And then, to confirm all my paranoia, I spotted another rattlesnake just in front of us! He was as big as the first, and coiled up on the dirt, next to a cluster of cheat grass. I quickly grabbed Savanah's arm and yanked her back! This wily serpent didn't get any of our attention. No pictures. No gawking. We just moved out of the way and walked around it!

We stayed for an additional hour without seeing another snake. We found some intriguing petroglyphs, including some from the U.S. Cavalry in 1868. But most of the glyphs were much older and chiseled out by the Native tribes who lived here over a thousand years ago.

I wonder if the snakes are connected with these ancient people, somehow watching over and protecting their sacred site.

We finally called it quits and began driving the rough dirt road back toward our home. We hadn't gone far when I saw that we passed another snake. This one was elongated, no doubt attempting to cross the road. As I stopped the vehicle, we all raced behind to catch a glimpse of what it was. Sure enough, it was a rattler. This one was much smaller, which would make him more venomous. We watched for a fleeting few seconds as the young serpent wagged his rattle and slithered into obscurity through the grass that grew on the side of the road. ♠