By Rick Craycraft
Although I was taught everything I know about mountaineering by the Mazamas and am fiercely devoted to the incomparable Pacific Northwest, my climbing curiosity has taken me all over the country. Starting with Mt. Hood in 1987, I wandered around the United States over the course of 20 years picking up state highpoints, finishing in 2007 with Mt. Arvon in Michigan (a whopping 1979 feet) for my 49th highpoint. Denali will have to wait for another lifetime. Every few years I dabble again in the Colorado 14ers (all the peaks in Colorado over 14,000 feet). After a blitz last September with my climbing partner Dan Hafley, I’m up to 19 of those. And, in the last few years, I’ve become enamored with the Desert 98 Peaks, in the American Southwest (so designated by the Sierra Club branch in Los Angeles—see the article in March’s Bulletin).
I’m especially interested in getting up the eight Desert Peaks in Arizona, a doable number, unlike the daunting 71 that are in California. In addition, my mother has lived in Arizona for more than 25 years and I have visited frequently. My thinking, of course, is that if I’m going to travel anyway, why not work climbing into it somehow? As of two years ago I had been up several of the walk-up Desert Peaks in Arizona, including Humphries Peak, at 12,663 feet also the state high point. However, there were two peaks that presented problems—Weaver’s Needle, in the Superstition Mountains outside Phoenix, and Baboquivari Peak, south of Tucson near the Mexican border. These are both technical climbs and nothing I wanted to tackle alone. After an unsuccessful attempt on Weaver’s Needle in November 2009 with an expatriate Mazama leader based in Phoenix, I was left mulling a viable approach to these two peaks. Of course they are never on the Mazama climb schedule. I don’t remember any Mazama outings to Arizona recently. I was sure there was a less expensive way than hiring a guide service.
The answer to my quandary came across my desk at the Mazama office, where I volunteer. It turns out that we subscribe to the newsletter of the Arizona Mountaineering Club, based in Phoenix. What did I have to lose? I contacted them by e-mail, inquiring as to whether they were open to taking qualified members of other clubs on their climbs. Very soon thereafter I received an e-mailback asking what in particular I would like to climb and when. I communicated my interest in Weaver’s Needle, right in their backyard, and was told that should be no problem. Next thing I knew a party had been organized, a date selected and we were good to go (I guess things are a little easier to manage in a club of only 300 members).
That climb came off smoothly in March 2010, although apparently I took uncharacteristically rainy weather with me. On the pack out, discussions began for an attempt on Baboquivari. Two years of voluminous e-mails followed as we looked for likely dates and lined up interested parties. Desert climbing, I’ve learned, happens in the “shoulder” seasons, spring and fall. It’s too hot in the summer and the days are too short in the winter. Thus, on April 21 of this year a party of six, five AMC members and I, were ready to take on Baboquivari Peak. The weather was peerless. We had chosen the Forbes Route, the first ascent route, mostly because it had three pitches of protected climbing. There is a route on the other side of Babo, which involves hiking and scrambling and ends up at the same third pitch we were planning on doing. Our leader’s attitude about this choice of routes was, “We are not driving that far to do one pitch!”
The climbing was not hard; it was mid-5th class and below. The company was grand and I was welcomed as an honored member of this faraway club none of them had ever heard of (“What’s a Mazama?”) Baboquivari Peak is a sacred Mountain of the Native American nation of Tohono O’odham, and as such, visitors are expected to leave a token of gratitude and respect for their god I’itoi. I found it fitting to drop my Mazama lapel pin into a shell already on the summit, then for good measure tied my Mazama bandana onto the collected prayer flags flapping in the Arizona summit breeze.
This is not just my story. This is written to inspire other Mazamas to remember that with a little bit of initiative and research there are plenty of resources out there in the national climbing community to help get you up whatever your fancy might be. In addition, three years ago the Mazamas entered into an arrangement with other prominent climbing organizations around the country to share member rates and benefits. We now have a reciprocal agreement with the Appalachian Mountain Club, the Colorado Mountain Club and the Mountaineers, based in Seattle. Along with the American Alpine Club, these groups comprise the “Alpine 5” and have been meeting annually to explore mutually beneficial and collaborative endeavors. Details of the last meeting, held in Portland, are in last month’s Bulletin.
There are dozens of other climbing clubs across the country who are dwarfed in size by those mentioned above. Just in Oregon there are the Chemeketans in Salem, the Cascade Mountaineers in Bend and the Obsidians in Eugene, along with others I’ve probably never heard of. Just find and contact them. They may be every bit as nice and accommodating as the Mazamas.
