Back on April 8, 1986 I climbed a mountain called Mazatzal Peak. It was only the 11th peak I had climbed since moving to Arizona. On the summit, I left my contact information in the register and then promptly forgot about it. Months passed, I kept climbing. In early December, I received a letter from a man named Bob Martin – he said he’d found my name on Mazatzal Peak. He realized that we were kindred spirits, both determined peakbaggers, and suggested we meet. I agreed, and on December 12th history was made – Bob Martin, one of the most prolific peakbaggers of all time, and I did our first climb together. Bob had a four-wheel-drive vehicle (I didn’t) and wanted some company while climbing (so did I), so it was an ideal match-up. In a matter of months, we had together climbed the high points of these ranges: West Silverbell Mountains; Casa Grande Mountains; Dripping Springs Mountains; Tortilla Mountains; Sawtooth Mountains; Tucson Mountains; Table Top Mountains; Sand Tank Mountains; Mohawk Mountains; Granite Mountains; Aguila Mountains; Crater Range; Sierra de la Lechuguilla; Tinajas Altas Mountains; Butler Mountains; Gila Mountains; Copper Mountains. Our last climb together was on April 27 of 1987 in the Copper Mountains, so we did a lot in four and a half months. Several of our climbs were in very remote areas, and back in the 80s we had more of a sense of pioneering during some of those climbs. Here, I’d like to focus on what we did in one of those ranges.

The Sawtooth Mountains – this compact range can be easily seen to the west of Interstate 10, the freeway that runs between Phoenix and Tucson. When I say compact, I mean it – the entire range is only 6 1/2 miles across, yet it boasts 15 summits. Millions have no doubt noticed the profile of its striking peaks, some of them even wondering what they are and if they have names. Bob had his eye on them, and suggested we go in and climb the range high point.

On December 12th, we made our way into the area in his Jeep Cherokee and drove some rough roads to park near the range high point. Our goal was to climb the biggest prize first. Here’s a view of it, Peak 2630 – I took this photo back in 1986.

During the climb, I took this picture looking through a natural arch, steeply down to the desert floor.

Here’s a photo taken recently, on the east side of the mountain.

After that climb, we moved on to pick off another the same day. This one is a real looker – it has picked up the nickname of “Little Picacho”. But first, this – only 19 miles to the east sits the striking peak from which it gets that moniker, Picacho Peak – here’s how Picacho looks from the freeway.

So back to our mountain. It is more properly known simply as Peak 2614, and it’s only 16 feet lower than the range high point. Here are different views of it, taken many years ago.

Once on top, I took this picture of Bob. We found no sign of a previous visit to this striking peak, so we left a summit register.

Here’s a few more, taken recently.

That same day, we had time for one more, a smaller one called Peak 2334. There was no sign of any previous visit when we topped out, so we left a register there as well. Sorry for the poor quality of this photo, taken from the north. I include it here for the sake of completeness.

One month later, we returned to the Sawtooths – their siren call had lured us back to this beautiful area. This time, our goal was another striking summit. Back then, it was known as “Sawtooth Spire”. We didn’t know anything about it, other than the only possible route up it, unroped, was a steep, exposed rib of rock. Bob led the way and I nipped at his heels, and before long we stood on top. Wow, that was good fun! That felt better than all of the other registers we’d leave in the range. It was a solid Class 4 climb. Here’s my photo of it, taken back in the day.

I have better pictures, though, like this one taken from the north.

But here’s a photo that I think shows the spire to the best advantage, the view from the east. Our route went up the left skyline – see why it’s a Class 4 route?

Three weeks passed, and we found ourselves back in the Sawtooths. The first of 3 peaks we’d climb that day was Peak 2015 – it looks like someone in later years dropped the name “Pinhole Peak” on it. Once again, though, it was ours that day, and we left our register.

Next up was Peak 2417, which sat on the northern edge of the range. Yep, you guessed it – another of our registers would grace the summit. Here’s a view from the north – it’s the one just to the left of center. Behind it and slightly to the right sits the north face of Peak 2630, the range high point.

Our final one of the day was Peak 2208, one of the trio sitting on the northern edge of the range – in fact, it is the most northerly of all. At this rate, we’d soon need to send out for more registers!

Well, another month passed. Bob and I were raring to go back into the Sawtooths, so on March 2nd (it was now 1987, of course), we headed in. Today, we had our eye on 5 peaks – could we do them all? Today, we’d start at the southern end of the range. Today, we’d go like hell all day and try to bag some more firsts.

First on our list was something called Tooth Benchmark – at a mere 1,965′ elevation, it was almost the lowest thing in the range. Road access was really good, so we were able to park right next to it. Obviously, surveyors had been up it long ago, but we were the first climbers to stand upon it. Chalk up one for us.

Next, we went over to and climbed Wildcat Peak, elevation 2,533 feet. It was more of a climb, but still quick. We had a register for that one too, as there was no sign of any previous visit. Some people think that if a peak has an official name, surely it has been previously climbed. Not so fast – the world is filled with examples of named peaks, many of them quite prominent or conspicuous, that remained unclimbed long after having been named.

Third on our list that day was Peak 2344, another one of the southern group in the range. And yes, we left a register there too. This was becoming an enjoyable habit. Here’s the peak seen from the east.

Could we manage a fourth one? Peak 2055 was nearby, so away we went, and soon stood on its summit. It was quick and easy. We still had a pack full of registers, so of course another one was left there. It’s the only one I never photographed, sorry.

Another nearby mountain attracted us, a peak named Indian Head. At 2,209 feet, it wasn’t high, but its being a named peak was a big draw. That was our fifth register of the day. Man, what a streak of peakbagging – we were almost giddy with our success.

That made a total of 12 peaks that Bob and I had climbed together in the Sawtooths. We didn’t climb any others as a team after that. In later years, Bob did go back on his own and climb the remaining 3, as did I. Another major player in the range was Mark Nichols, who went in a decade later and made a clean sweep of everything.

From my side, I didn’t go back until 2011. I remember the day well, sunny and cool. I drove around the northwest side of the range and parked a mile away from Peak 1926, a little bump out in the desert all by itself. It was quick and easy.

I then drove all the way down the west side of the range and parked in a deep valley between my last two peaks.

This is a seldom-visited corner of the range. To my north sat Peak 2467, a steep climb of 500 feet. There, I signed in to the register left by others, and headed back down to my truck. Nice, just one left to do.

To the south rose Peak 2473 – more steep-sided than its twin across the valley to the north. This next photo doesn’t show the steep side (the north), only the gentler east side. I found a way up, and signed in. That was it, I had finally finished all 15 peaks in the Sawtooth Mountains. That completion was a long-time coming, but better late than never.

Back down at my truck, I sought a short way back out to pavement. A few hundred yards ahead was a saddle, and a rough road dropped steeply down to the east from there. I got out of my truck and walked over far enough to study it. Holy crap, it looked crazy-steep, dropping 500 vertical feet in 850 horizontal. Down on the desert floor, merely a mile away, sat a better road, one which I hoped would lead me back to nice paved roads and quickly home. But you know what? – the road was so steep and rough that I was afraid to chance it. I could bluff my way down it, but if there were a washout or some obstacle ahead that didn’t allow me to pass, I was certain I wouldn’t be able to drive back up that steep road at my feet. I don’t often run into roads that scare me that much, but this was one of them. Look back 2 photos – see the white line to the left of the peak? That’s the steep road.

My decision made, I hopped in my truck and drove the 14 miles through the desert back to pavement. Something significant happened on the way out, however. Half-way out, I met an older couple who were parked beside the road and poking around in the desert. We spoke briefly, and I advised them to be careful, that there was a lot of illegal activity in the area, a lot of Bad Guys moving drugs and people though. They then asked me if I had heard the big news. What news? Some member of Congress had been shot in Tucson, but that’s all they knew.

As I drove the rest of the way out, I tuned in to a local station, where I heard that some lunatic had shot a bunch of people at a supermarket. By the time I had cell-phone reception, I discovered several voice-mails awaited. Upon returning the calls, I learned that 6 people had been killed and 12 others wounded. Beloved Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords had been seriously wounded and was fighting for her life, as were others.

I had a personal connection with the shooting. A month earlier, I had sat in a Tucson courtroom as a juror on a case which lasted 2 weeks. The presiding judge was the Honorable John Roll, as nice a man as I’ve ever met. Tragically, he was one of those killed at the scene. The horror of the event was shocking, but I was most deeply affected by the death of Judge Roll. Having sat in his courtroom all day every day for 2 weeks, I felt a personal attachment to him. The day the case ended, he had invited us jurors into his chambers and had answered all of our questions for more than an hour. I was deeply affected by his loss. That final day in the Sawtooths was thus marked by an event that I’ll remember for the rest of my life. I can’t ever think of the range without remembering that horrible event. Every time I drive between Tucson and Phoenix and look to the west, I see the Sawtooths and think back to those glory days with Bob when we had such a great time out there climbing everything in sight.