Arizona Summits: Piestewa Peak (2,608′)

Sunset on the Summit. Piestewa Peak, Arizona, 2014

Back in the day, this desert mountain was known to us as “Squaw Peak”–named, I suppose, using the same thought processes that led to the naming of the Washington Redskins. The new namesake is Lori Ann Piestewa, the first Native American (Hopi) woman to die in combat (Iraq, 2003). Seems like an overdue and appropriate change to me.

Back in the day, the peak was where we went on numerous Saturday mornings for a mountain run, a hike, or even to climb or practice driving pitons (yes, we actually did that way back then!) on the somewhat rotten rock. At a good, youthful, running pace, 17-19 minutes to the top wasn’t unusual those many decades ago–I’m a bit slower now, but thankfully I can still move my fanny up the trail.

Once, I even carried my trumpet up there and crudely blasted Herb Alpert tunes (A Taste of Honey, Spanish Flea, Never on Sunday, etc.) out over the Valley of the Sun.

Trail details: 1.2 miles one way, 1,200 feet of altitude gain. Very well-worn trail that is fun Class 2-ish at the top, especially if you scramble over to touch the geo-marker welded to the true high point.

I think half the population of Phoenix has been up there at one time or another. Who knows how many have made love on top (babies conceived?)–or at least shared a sunset kiss. And, these days, I’d say that you’ll find at least 10% of the Phoenix population running up the trail, showing off their cut abs, on any given weekend morning.

The first time I climbed the mountain was back in about 1970 or so. We were new to the area and had no idea a trail existed to the top. Dad, with his three outdoor-hyper boys in tow, simply drove around the area until he found a promising dirt road that led us close to the base of the hills (obviously, Phoenix was not nearly as developed as it is now). From there, we climbed over a small ridge, down the other side, then bushwhacked our way over boulders and around the cacti up the steep southeast slopes.

Once we reached the blocky-rocky top and peered over the other side, we all said (pretty much in unison): “Hey, there’s a parking lot down there–and a trail on this other side!” Regardless, it was a memorable exploration of what, for us, was terra coyote-roadrunner incognita.

If you climb this peak in August at noon, prepare to suffer–and take a boatload of water, or you will die, dried-out like a 2,000-year-old Egyptian mummy. Climb it in the winter or in the very early morning hours for a much more pleasant experience. Any time you go, don’t expect to be alone as it is probably the most popular hike in the Phoenix area.

On this particular afternoon (December 13, 2014), a storm was clearing out of the Valley–ideal conditions for some sunset photography, I surmised. Little did I know that I’d see rain, hail, lightning, and hear ominous thunder booms that exploded out their warnings a mere five seconds after the initial electric flash. I collapsed the tripod and moved a couple of ridges over, thinking the lightning would pick off the folks on the storm-side ridge first, before it got to me.

But I chose not to leave–the photo op possibilities were just too promising.

Luckily, we all survived-and what a Broadway show we lived to see!

Some selected images from that stormy afternoon…

Looking toward the northwest–light rain, North Mountain, and Shaw Butte (our old hang gliding haunt) in view:

Summit View, #1. From Piestewa Peak, Arizona, 2014

A look south toward Camelback Mountain–where I met Santa Claus earlier in the day when clouds still covered the summit of that mountain:

Camelback Mountain View. From Piestewa Peak, Arizona, 2014

Strange blue light as the camera’s lens probed the passing storm:

Pinnacle Peak, Through the Storm. From Piestewa Peak, Arizona, 2014

The summit crowd photographs the lightning to the north…the rain builds:

Summit View, #2. Piestewa Peak, Arizona, 2014

Finally, the prize…almost 270 degrees of rainbow–and a hint of a double rainbow trying its hardest to form. Piestewa’s shadow can be seen in the center: