American Alpine Project
Ascending America's Highest Peaks to Raise Spirits Around the Globe
Humphrey's Peak, Arizona
Humphrey's Peak, AZ
Elevation: 12,633 ft.
Summit Attained: 06/16/97
This was my first highpoint! I was thirteen at the time, just out of 7th grade. My family was vacationing in the Grand Canyon area for a week, and we made the drive to Flagstaff just so that we could bag Humphrey's. The whole way to Flagstaff, I could see the distant peaks of the San Francisco Range. I wasn't sure which one was Humphrey's, but they all looked to be challenging, and I was really excited. We arrived in Flagstaff in the late evening, and stayed in a small house on Beaver St., near the edge of town. The next morning, we drove to the trailhead parking lot at about 8,000 ft.
During the early hours of the hike, we wove steadily upwards through a beautiful alpine forest. Although we were a lot higher, it reminded me a lot of the mountain trails back home in Pennsylvania. The trail wasn't particularly steep or rocky, and the trees broke in certain spots, offering some inspiring vistas of the surrounding Kachina wilderness area.
After a few hours of hiking through the woods, we passed above treeline and arrived on the saddle between Humphrey's and Mt. Agassiz, the second highest peak in Arizona. Dropping away below the narrow ridge up to the top of Agassiz was the steep ski bowl of the Arizona Snowbowl Ski Area.
I spent a while checking out Agassiz. It has a classic summit shape; the ridge above the ski bowl leaves the saddle and rises to a near-perfect point high above. The whole thing was a giant pile of scree, however, and I was bent on climbing Humphrey's, so after a short break, I continued on my way. At this point, the rest of my family had had enough of the climb, so I went on alone.
I had consumed the last of my water during my rest at the saddle, but I wasn't too worried since the summit was in view a short distance away. The air was noticeably thinner here, and I was getting pretty tired. The trail had deteriorated to a barely definable path across a narrow ridge made entirely of large boulders. To my left, the ridge gave way to a huge avalanche field that seemed to continue all the way down to the mountain's base several thousand feet below. To the right, the ridge dropped away abruptly. Far below was a valley that led up to the saddle between Humphrey's and Mt. Agassiz. Thankfully the ridge was wide enough that I was not really concerned about falling. The hike at this point involved scrambling up and around the rocks, and added a lot of difficulty to what looked to be a rather short distance to the top. It was June, and I was pretty surprised to see patches of snow dotting the ridge.
As I reached the "summit," I stopped in my tracks, dismayed to see that the ridge continued for quite a distance up to the real summit. After a minute, I gathered up my energy and trudged on. I finally arrived at the top of the real summit...only to see that I had been fooled again! I think that this happened three times, but after what seemed like an eternity of going up and over crest after crest, I finally scrambled up a steep section and found myself on the true summit. There were a few other people there, all sitting in various places around a square stone wall about three feet high. I went straight over and signed the summit log on the far side of the wall. Then I struggled to catch my breath as I took in the fantastic view.
I had been without water for almost an hour, and I had a pounding headache from the altitude. Needless to say, I wasn't quite as interested in looking around as I had anticipated. Someone back in Flagstaff had told me that the Painted Desert, Grand Canyon and Rockies were all visible from Humphrey's summit, and as I sat there, I tried to find each one. I don't know if the person was lying or if I was just tired, but I couldn't really tell what was what except for the Grand Canyon.
Thankfully, some hikers sat down next to me, saw how tired I was and gave me some water and a piece of pita bread. I thanked them and, after downing the food and drink, I turned and began the descent to the saddle. Along the way, I passed my father, who had decided to continue on shortly after I had left the saddle. (He also summited. Ever the skeptic, I made sure to quiz him about what he saw to verify his claim. He reported the same disorienting experience, and we joked about the series of false summits. As I found out later, these false summits are quite notorious for turning back otherwise motivated hikers.)
After a while, I made it back to the saddle, where the rest of my family was waiting. Everyone was exhausted. Amazingly, my seven year old sister had attempted to ascend the ridge after a brief rest, and had made it all the way to the first false summit before turning around! My dad made it back about a half hour after I arrived and, after some more time hanging out at the saddle, we headed down, making it back to the parking lot pretty quickly. Man, was I tired that night! Round trip was probably about 9 or 10 hours. Awesome hike though.
Elevation: 12,633 ft.
Summit Attained: 06/16/97
This was my first highpoint! I was thirteen at the time, just out of 7th grade. My family was vacationing in the Grand Canyon area for a week, and we made the drive to Flagstaff just so that we could bag Humphrey's. The whole way to Flagstaff, I could see the distant peaks of the San Francisco Range. I wasn't sure which one was Humphrey's, but they all looked to be challenging, and I was really excited. We arrived in Flagstaff in the late evening, and stayed in a small house on Beaver St., near the edge of town. The next morning, we drove to the trailhead parking lot at about 8,000 ft.
During the early hours of the hike, we wove steadily upwards through a beautiful alpine forest. Although we were a lot higher, it reminded me a lot of the mountain trails back home in Pennsylvania. The trail wasn't particularly steep or rocky, and the trees broke in certain spots, offering some inspiring vistas of the surrounding Kachina wilderness area.
After a few hours of hiking through the woods, we passed above treeline and arrived on the saddle between Humphrey's and Mt. Agassiz, the second highest peak in Arizona. Dropping away below the narrow ridge up to the top of Agassiz was the steep ski bowl of the Arizona Snowbowl Ski Area.
I spent a while checking out Agassiz. It has a classic summit shape; the ridge above the ski bowl leaves the saddle and rises to a near-perfect point high above. The whole thing was a giant pile of scree, however, and I was bent on climbing Humphrey's, so after a short break, I continued on my way. At this point, the rest of my family had had enough of the climb, so I went on alone.
I had consumed the last of my water during my rest at the saddle, but I wasn't too worried since the summit was in view a short distance away. The air was noticeably thinner here, and I was getting pretty tired. The trail had deteriorated to a barely definable path across a narrow ridge made entirely of large boulders. To my left, the ridge gave way to a huge avalanche field that seemed to continue all the way down to the mountain's base several thousand feet below. To the right, the ridge dropped away abruptly. Far below was a valley that led up to the saddle between Humphrey's and Mt. Agassiz. Thankfully the ridge was wide enough that I was not really concerned about falling. The hike at this point involved scrambling up and around the rocks, and added a lot of difficulty to what looked to be a rather short distance to the top. It was June, and I was pretty surprised to see patches of snow dotting the ridge.
As I reached the "summit," I stopped in my tracks, dismayed to see that the ridge continued for quite a distance up to the real summit. After a minute, I gathered up my energy and trudged on. I finally arrived at the top of the real summit...only to see that I had been fooled again! I think that this happened three times, but after what seemed like an eternity of going up and over crest after crest, I finally scrambled up a steep section and found myself on the true summit. There were a few other people there, all sitting in various places around a square stone wall about three feet high. I went straight over and signed the summit log on the far side of the wall. Then I struggled to catch my breath as I took in the fantastic view.
I had been without water for almost an hour, and I had a pounding headache from the altitude. Needless to say, I wasn't quite as interested in looking around as I had anticipated. Someone back in Flagstaff had told me that the Painted Desert, Grand Canyon and Rockies were all visible from Humphrey's summit, and as I sat there, I tried to find each one. I don't know if the person was lying or if I was just tired, but I couldn't really tell what was what except for the Grand Canyon.
Thankfully, some hikers sat down next to me, saw how tired I was and gave me some water and a piece of pita bread. I thanked them and, after downing the food and drink, I turned and began the descent to the saddle. Along the way, I passed my father, who had decided to continue on shortly after I had left the saddle. (He also summited. Ever the skeptic, I made sure to quiz him about what he saw to verify his claim. He reported the same disorienting experience, and we joked about the series of false summits. As I found out later, these false summits are quite notorious for turning back otherwise motivated hikers.)
After a while, I made it back to the saddle, where the rest of my family was waiting. Everyone was exhausted. Amazingly, my seven year old sister had attempted to ascend the ridge after a brief rest, and had made it all the way to the first false summit before turning around! My dad made it back about a half hour after I arrived and, after some more time hanging out at the saddle, we headed down, making it back to the parking lot pretty quickly. Man, was I tired that night! Round trip was probably about 9 or 10 hours. Awesome hike though.
