Please be sure to read the previous 4 installments of this story before launching into this one.

Day 5 of my trip to the Little Horn Mountains ended with a trip total of 13 peaks climbed, and I was pretty pleased with the results so far. As evening approached, I had found a nice spot to camp, albeit a bit hilly (I moved a couple of times to find a more level spot for sleeping). The weather had been cloudless every day, and this one, Saint Paddy’s Day, was no exception.

As the light faded, I settled in for the evening. Sitting in my truck snacking and reading, the hours passed – usually, I turned in around 9:00 PM, crawling into my sleeping bag in the bed of my truck. When the weather is fine, I leave the tailgate down and the hatch on the shell up, meaning that the back end of my truck is wide open to the night air.

I had been sleeping soundly for a few hours, dreaming peacefully, when I was rudely awakened by a noise outside my truck. As consciousness returned, I lay there listening to the sound, and it soon dawned on me what I was hearing. It was Mimus polyglottos, and my little friend was close by, singing his little heart out. The northern mockingbird is a common inhabitant of the desert southwest, and I had been seeing them everywhere I went on this climbing trip. More accurately, I had been hearing them everywhere – their distinctive song is a dead giveaway. They are known for their mimicking ability, which is reflected in their Latin name – translated, it means “many-tongued mimic”. If you live in almost any part of North America, you have probably heard these songsters. They have a repertoire that is quite remarkable. They will imitate the songs of other birds, usually a whole series of them, and the accuracy of their imitation is really something to behold.

This March climbing trip coincided with their spring mating season, so the males were singing their little hearts out to attract a mate. But in the middle of the night? – gimme a break. I needed to get my beauty sleep so I could get all my climbing done the next day. Once awake, this one’s song was so loud and near that I couldn’t fall back to sleep. Finally, after a while, I had had enough –  I stumbled out of the truck into the inky night, as dark as a pocket, and shouted “Shut the fuck up!!!”. He stopped. I stood there, listening, waiting to see if he’d start up again, ready to let him have it. He didn’t. Thinking I may have startled him sufficiently that he flew away, I crawled back into bed and got a bit more sleep before the faint light of dawn began in the east.

Have you ever read the children’s book “The Wind in the Willows” by Kenneth Grahame? If you haven’t, I recommend it. Some say it wasn’t really written for children. Chapter 7 of the book is entitled “The Piper at the Gates of Dawn”. It deals with a mysterious character who, you guessed it, plays a set of pipes at dawn. There’s more to it than just that, of course, but you’d have to read the book to learn the rest of the story. I couldn’t help but feel that I had just experienced my very own piper at the gates of dawn.

I arose at my usual hour of 5:30 AM, somewhat bleary-eyed, and prepared for my day. An hour later, I had driven to my first starting point, shouldered my day-pack and set out on foot. Once again, it was a cool, clear morning – perfect climbing weather. In the process of climbing my first peak, I chose a route that wasn’t the best, that got me on shaky, convoluted ground – it worked out in the end, though, and I was on top just after seven. Peak 2210 was a popular place – being close to a major road, it had attracted 10 previous visitors.

I went back down by an easier, more direct route, walked right past my truck and up the north slope of nearby Peak 2180. This one’s register had been signed by 8 others before me. Usually, the closer a mountain is to a road, the more times it will get climbed. That was certainly the case for these 2, located hard by Hovatter Road.

The next task I had set for myself was to visit a place I’d seen on the topo map which intrigued me – it was called “Royal Arch”. Arizona is full of crumbling rock, so there’s no shortage of natural arches to be found. To actually name one, though, is very unusual in the desert portion of the state. I drove several miles north on a lesser, though well-traveled road and soon rolled up to the arch. Very impressive.

An interesting feature of Royal Arch was the huge rock beneath the actual span itself – it was leaning against the north wall. I suppose it was once part of the rock that had occupied the space below the arch.

The earliest mention I could find of Royal Arch was on the 1988 Little Horn Mountains 1:100,000 scale topographic map, but who knows how long it has existed. It would be fascinating to be able to speak to ancient Native American people who once lived here, to see if the arch was something they knew long ago.The arch sat a mere 755 feet from the road, and I think it is visited by plenty of the curious.

A short distance beyond the arch sat 2 peaks whose bases were only 1,500 feet apart. They straddled the road and were my next targets. The first one I would visit was Peak 1991 on the west side of the road. Seven previous visitors had signed in to its register.

I was really stoked. Down I went to my truck, went the short distance over to the other one, and was soon on the top of Peak 1952. Eight others had been there before me. I made it back to the truck at 11:45 AM. Holy cow, I had actually climbed 4 peaks before noon, albeit small ones – this was turning out to be a good day.

It was decision time. I wanted to make my way over to the northeast part of the range, where a big peak I’d been seeing from afar for days really intrigued me. I knew I couldn’t try it until tomorrow, but I hoped to make my way via uncertain roads over to its base today and be all set for an attempt first thing in the morning.

There was one peak that wasn’t too far out of the way, one that I could head to now and pick off this afternoon, then do the rest of the driving later. Alright, that was a pretty easy decision. I drove a mile north, then T-boned into another road which I followed left for a couple of miles. I parked the truck out of the way, put 2 quarts into my pack and then headed north across the desert. It was one o’clock and it felt really warm. Once I reached the bottom of the slope, I climbed up to a sort of summit plateau, and there I saw something I never would have expected here. At 1,900 feet elevation, only 400 feet above the desert floor, I saw a desert bighorn sheep, an ewe – she looked at me briefly, then ran down the slope away from me. I’d normally expect to see bighorns on rugged, rocky peaks and higher up, but none of those conditions applied here. It was 1:30 when I walked on to the summit of Peak 1951, and discovered that 12 others had previously signed in to the register – popular place!

While I was on the top, I had this unbroken view southeast to Peak 1810 – it’s the big one on the skyline a bit left of center. It also happens to be the one I was heading to later in the day.

I was feeling really warm as I dropped down the south side of the mountain, then walked across the desert. It was probably just over 80 degrees, but it felt even hotter. It was 2:30 PM when I got back to the truck, changed out of my climbing clothes and boots (something I always did when I finished each climb) and started driving. After a few miles of heading east on a decent road, I was surprised to see that it suddenly became faint – it appeared rarely used, a simple two-track, somewhat overgrown. It was so sketchy that I lost it several times in the 5 miles I followed it. This was certainly the road less-traveled, and I felt very alone out there.

Fortunately, I had good maps and followed them carefully, finally reaching a road I needed to take me south for 2 miles. This was a decent road that deposited me, at last, at a good spot to camp and from which to climb 2 peaks. But should I try anything more today? After all, I certainly had no complaint about having climbed 5 mountains so far today, but I was on a roll and the lure of a 6th on the day was too hard to resist. The day was wearing on, so that by the time I set out on foot it was already 4:15 PM.

I started west from the truck and up an easy slope. However, a couple of hundred feet higher, I entered a bowl which was covered with loose bits of rock, like marbles. It was slippery and dangerous, and although I made it up and through to an easier ridge, I swore I would not return the same way. From below, I thought the ridge I now walked would be the summit, but imagine my surprise when, once arrived, I looked 700 feet farther to the west and saw an even higher part of the mountain. It was girdled with a band of vertical cliffs and rose another 200 feet from my position.

My day’s efforts were catching up to me – I felt nauseous and played out, partly because I was disappointed that I still had a puzzle to solve. It was hot, it was late and I wasn’t sure what was next. I sought some shade and rested for a bit, mustering up the energy to finish it off. I climbed up to the summit area and looked for a way to avoid the cliffs. It turned out that I had to circumambulate the entire summit to find its only weakness, a steep ridge on the northwest corner. The top was a large flat area. In the distance is the peak I’d need to climb tomorrow.

I felt relieved to finally be on top of Peak 2270 as I signed in to the register, adding my name to 3 others who’d preceded me. At least I knew the way down now, so the pressure was off. Here’s a good photo of the summit taken the next day.

Avoiding the slippery area I’d encountered on the way up by taking a longer, safer way down, I finally walked up to my truck at 6:15 PM. The valley was already deep in shadow, and I was totally shagged out. This was easily my best day of the trip, with 6 peaks under my belt. Over 3,000 vertical feet on the day, and my tally for the trip was now 19 mountains climbed. I was a bit concerned about the big peak I had to climb in the morning, but we’d figure it out soon enough. So ended my 6th day of this trip, but I wasn’t done yet.

Stay tuned for the 6th installment of the story.