Getting Started

Our journey started on Rincon Road, right off of Highway 89/30. It’s a right hand turn not far from the second roundabout if you’re coming from the south. The road takes you past some pasture and a roping facility, then crosses the Hassayampa River, which is usually dry there. The pavement ends and starts and ends multiple times. You’ll cross the river twice. After the second crossing, you’ll find yourself at the site of an old manganese mine. There’s a big parking area there and it’s often filled with trucks pulling trailers for ATVs or horses. Yesterday, there were two camps set up, looking out over the riverbed.

We made a sharp left to continue along Rincon Road. It climbs out of the river area into the low mountains northwest of town. At an obvious intersection, we made a right to continue on Rincon. This short piece of road is extremely rough but offers outstanding views back toward Wickenburg, as well as lots of typical Sonoran desert vegetation. And rocks — did I mention the rocks?

As we continued along this piece of road, we passed a pickup truck with a cap on top. A man was standing, shirtless, at the back. He appeared to be washing his hands. A peek inside the truck cap revealed a mattress on a platform with various supplies under it. It was clear that this was the man’s “camper.” Not everyone needs a 35-foot fifth wheel for living in the desert.

After another quick photo stop, we joined Scenic Loop and headed north along its maintained dirt surface. This was familiar territory for us, so we didn’t remain on it long. Instead, when the road descended into a wash and turned to the east, we turned left into the wash and followed the sandy road northwest. According to our maps, this was scenic loop and the road we knew as Scenic Loop was actually called Stanton Hall Road. As if road names make a difference out there — none of the roads are marked and few people using the roads know their names.

We took our time along the drive, making a few stops along the way. At one point, we turned right off the main road and climbed up a side road covered with loose gravel. The road was steep and I think this is the only place where 4WD may have been required on the trip. Although we both expected the road to end, it continued past the top of the hill toward the east. We decided to turn back and stay on our original path.

The Photo Spots

I won’t bore you with the turn by turn details beyond this point — partly because I can’t remember every single turn we made as we wound down one dirt road after another, through washes, up steep grades, and around obstacles. I was glad we were in a Jeep and not something with a wider wheelbase. For most of the time, it was slow going. We didn’t stop many times for photos, on the first half of the trip because there wasn’t much of interest to photograph.

There were some exceptions, of course. One was Sand Mill, site of windmill, cattle tanks, and corral. I have a thing about windmills and did my usual study of this one. Unfortunately, it was broken, although I do think it could be repaired. What I found more interesting was the welded iron water tank behind it and the fencing around the corral — which was in unusually good shape. There had been two cows standing in the area when we drove up, but they ran off when we stopped. Cows out in the open range are funny like that. No matter how hard you try to not spook them, they get spooked anyway.

Anyway, here are three portrait view shots I took in the area. (Unlike a lot of amateur photographers, I’m not afraid to turn my cameral sideways.) These are a little more “artsy” than scenic. It was fun to play with the textures and patterns.

Later on, near a place called Brick Tank, I managed to get this shot of two cows. They stood there for about two minutes just staring at us as I rolled the Jeep into position and framed this shot. Then, just as I pushed down on the shutter, the smaller one (on the left) turned her head and ran off. The other followed, of course.

We also passed a herd of about eight mule deer along the way. I stopped while Mike tried to get some photos. They weren’t quite close enough for our lenses — we hadn’t brought along my 70-300mm zoom. Here’s my only shot, which I admit isn’t very good. I cropped it here.

As we reached Stanton, we found the road blocked by a fence and a “No Trespassing” sign. This wasn’t good news; if we had to go back to find another route, it could have easily taken another hour to get to the same spot. Fortunately, two-track roads led around the fence, dumping us right outside the ghost town of Stanton on Stanton Road.

Stanton is owned by the Lost Dutchmen Mining Association (LDMA). It’s always had a caretaker on duty, so the few buildings that remain of the original town — stage stop, hotel, and opera house — still stand. The LDMA offers campsites for its members. On Christmas Day, the place was crammed with RVs of all kinds, from the crappiest conversion van you could imagine to a 35-foot Cameo that looked very new. These folks spend their time panning for gold, which is kind of cool. I say “kind of” because it’s a ton of work and not the easiest way to make money. But every once in a while, someone finds a gold nugget big enough to keep everyone else looking. And it’s nice to be able to spend so much time outdoors with folks who share the same interest.

The Mountainous Portion of the Trip

Stanton Road meets up with Mina Road right there and that’s where we headed to start the second part of the trip — the part I wanted to do. I’d seen a Jeep road up in the Weaver Mountains that I wanted to check out. It wasn’t far from Stanton on the back road that went from Stanton to Yarnell: Mina Road.

Our landmark was a switchback to the left in the road. The road we wanted would go straight instead of making that left turn. But sure enough, it was blocked off with a fence and a “No Trespassing” sign. We made a U-turn and went back a short distance to another road that looked as if it might parallel the one we wanted. According to my GPS and the topo maps we’d brought along, the road we were on ended. But those maps are from the 1980s, before folks with ATVs and gold fever started exploring the area. We explored the road and its side roads until we found the place it met up with the road we wanted, beyond that private property.

We drove across Antelope Creek, which still running as a small stream with a mix of spring water and runoff from snow and rain at higher elevations the previous week. I threw the Jeep into 4WD and powered up a steep, narrow Jeep trail with lots of loose rock. When I leveled out and could see the road beyond, I realized that I just wasn’t prepared to go any farther. The road was very narrow, very steep, and covered with very loose rock. I was tired from almost 2 hours of driving on back roads. I’d had enough rough road exploring.

We got out for a while to take photographs in the area. There was a lot of slate-like rock, standing straight up. Much of the rock was covered with orange and yellow lichen. It made an interesting contrast to the green and brown of the desert, the blue of the sky, and the deep shadows cast by late afternoon sun. The light hadn’t gotten “good” yet, but it wasn’t bad — probably because of its low winter angle.

We also walked down to Antelope Creek. It was great to see so much water flowing in the desert. I knew that downstream, the flow dried up before it even reached Stanton. I tried to get some photos that showed reflections in pools of relatively smooth water. The water, in some places, was about two feet deep. Although Jack the Dog drank some of it without side effect, I wouldn’t think of drinking it without treating it first; just too much open range and wildlife in the area. (That’s why its best to bring your own water, even if you know you might find some along the way.)

The Way Back

We returned to Mina Road and headed back toward Wickenburg. But rather than take the fast way — Stanton Road to Route 89 — we turned left on Stanton Road and headed back on more dirt roads.

But first, we stopped at one of the few buildings that remain at Octave, another ghost town. The afternoon sun had drifted down quite low when we arrived and I think I got some of my best photos of the day. I have a thing about photographing abandoned buildings, and even though this was a small one, it kept me busy for a good 20 minutes. This is one of my favorite shots.

We also stopped alongside the road where the boulder-and-saguaro-strewn side of Rich Hill was illuminated by the low-lying sun. As you look at this photo, remember that each cactus stands at least 15 feet tall. Really gives you an idea of how big the boulders are, no? The horizontal version of this photo will be my desktop pattern.

We turned south toward Wickenburg a while later. Again, I can’t remember where we turned; you’ll need to check my GPS track log to see. The following 90 minutes was spent exploring various ways to get through the desert and back to pavement near Scenic Loop or Rincon Road. We made a lot of “wrong” turns. In looking at our track and knowing the desert from previous non-GPS-assisted trips, I know we didn’t take the best path. But it was a new path, and that’s all that really mattered.

We joined back up with Scenic Loop near Sand Mill and retraced our steps. By then, the light was very low and the mountains were glowing copper colored. We made one more side trip in search of a good spot to take some final photos and found ourselves quite close to the Hassayampa River on a short cliff. Although Mike took some shots, I didn’t like anything I saw through the lens.

We backtracked all the way back to 89/93, drove through town, and headed home. It was a great way to spend Christmas Day.

Trace Our Treads

If you’re interested in following our route, I offer my Garmin GPX track log file for you to load into your GPS. Once you load the track log into your GPS, you can go to the center of town in Wickenburg to pick up the track and follow it. For best results, you’ll want a GPS that you can load topographic maps on; you’ll see that many (but not all) of the dirt roads we followed appear on the Garmin MapSource maps — or standard USGS topographical maps. You’ll also see where we made wrong turns and hit dead ends. You might want to review the track log before following it blindly; here it is on EveryTrail.com.

You’ll also need a vehicle with high clearance and a relatively narrow wheelbase. Leave the Hummer or big pickup truck home. You’ll do better with a Jeep or quad or some other ATV. Although we threw the Jeep into 4WD a few times, I don’t think we actually needed it more than once or twice. In this area, I always recommend using 4WD when driving in deep sand (especially along the Hassayampa River, which is notorious for quicksand).

And I know I don’t have to tell you to bring water, emergency gear, etc., right? Our route travelled to some pretty remote areas of the desert. If we had a breakdown, it would have been a long walk to help.

The area east of Wickenburg, bounded by Constellation Road on the north and Buckhorn Road to the south, was the virtual center of the Black Rock Mining District and saw some intense mining activity between 1870 and 1940. This article describes a hiking route that will take you on an historic stage coach road past several old mines and settlements, ending at the Roy Rogers Mine. It may owe its name to the original claim owner rather than the famous Hollywood cowboy, but I have no records that can explain the origin. See complete route details at the end of this article.

Figure 1, Copper Ore near Roy Rogers Mine

The Trailhead

When you turn left from Buckhorn Road at the corral you will be on private land. This location is significant for two reasons: First, the immediate environs (corral, well and local area) are what was once known as “Osborn’s Place” during the pioneer era. Second, this was the junction where the stage coach road turned north on its way toward the historic settlement of Constellation, the O’Brien/Gold Bar Mine and points beyond.

About 30 yards beyond the corral there is an old trail that rises above the wash to the left. This is where the Osborn settlement was located. Little remains of this site today, but it must have been a busy place in the late 1800′s through 1910 when stage coach and freight wagons passed through this area.

Proceed north from the corral along the trail. After a distance of about .4 miles you will come to another trail the rises to the right (east), as well as a mine opening that is nearly opposite to your left (west). The mine opening is quite large, but does not extend into the mountainside more than thirty feet.

Figure 2, First Adit

Figure 2 shows a perfect example of a “pocket mine” where the ore was exposed on the surface, but did not penetrate very deeply into the band of dark material shown in the photo. This adit may have been one of the early prospects of the Keystone Mine, which is above the top of photo. Interestingly, the interior walls of the adit contain numerous seams of sulphur powder that have formed through the slow but persistent movement of water in the cracks in the rock. If you stand at the entrance for a few minutes, the sulphur odor will become quite noticeable. The adit is posted with a “Do Not Enter” sign

On the opposite side of the wash you will see a trail that leads east onto the thickly covered hillside. This is believed to be the location of the mining camp and settlement of the Keystone Mine. There are a few collapsed structures and a terrace wall that mark the activity at this site.

Figure 3, Next Adit

Another few hundred yards north of the adit in Figure 2 you will see the mine entrance shown above (Figure 3). This opening does not feature a tailing pile and it is not located in an ore band. Thus, it may have been dug for the purpose of providing ventilation to the interior tunnels, drifts and shafts of the Keystone Mine, located above and west of this photo.

Figure 4 shows the next mine adit that you will encounter as you hike toward the Roy Rogers Mine.

Figure 4, ‘Modern’ Adit?

There are two indicators to the general age of this adit. First, the beam structure is not representative of the type of construction you would find in the late 1800′s. Second, the width of the adit is quite beyond what you would see in typical pioneer mines. I surmise that this tunnel was a late addition, possibly in the 1930′s. Although the beams appear to be solid, they may have become victim to ‘dry rot’. In any case, you should not enter. Notice that roots have penetrated through the roof.

The next mine feature you will see is a relatively large flat area that may have served as a processing and ore dump area. The gangue pile is easily two acres in dimension. There have been recent efforts to remove some of the trash residue at this site. Nevertheless, it is an interesting spot to examine. The uphill slopes on the western side of this area reveal the ore potential that miners were chasing, as evidenced in the lead photo (Figure 1) of the article.

As you proceed north on the stage coach trail your hike will continue to gain elevation and trail conditions will deteriorate for 4WD and ATV vehicles. Continue on the trail until you reach the crest, located in the mountain saddle. Upon arriving at this spot you will be rewarded with a scenic overview of the basin to the north, which features an excellent view of the Monte Cristo and Black Rock mines.

Figure 5, Roy Rogers Mine Cabin

The trail will take a sharp right (east) at the crest. Continuing along this route a short distance will bring you to a miner’s cabin, situated on a small saddle of the mountain (Figure 5). The cabin materials and nearby features suggest that it was constructed in the 1920′s; although the type of corrugated metal siding was available from about 1890.

The general roughness of the stage coach trail diminishes at this point, but it also becomes narrower and crowded with vegetation. You will be confronted with a maze of trails that lead to the mine workings. If you have persisted in bringing a vehicle as far as the cabin site, I recommend that you continue on foot from this point.

Figure 6, Roy Rogers Surface Ore Band

Figure 6 shows a dark band of rock where the principal mining activity occurred. It features a lower and middle adit and a shaft near the top. Outcroppings such as this are very common on the mountainsides near Black Rock Peak and Morgan Butte, and extend all the way to the Hassayampa River. The bands generally run from southeast to northwest, erupting at the surface for a few hundred yards, and then dive below ground.

The mine shaft did not have a conventional head frame that typifies larger operations. Instead, it probably employed a pole and hoist arrangement, since there are no concrete footings.

Figure 7 shows the shaft entrance. The shaft appears to follow the naturally curving band of rock and is probably not more than 100 feet in depth. Nevertheless, the opening is unprotected and should be respected as a safety hazard.

Figure 7, Roy Rogers Shaft

Notice that the color of the rock is much lighter than the dark ore band shown in Figure 6. I surmise that the shaft was dug at this location to reach the ore veins in the two lower adits.

Figure 8 illustrates a common sense reason why you should not enter old mines. The photo shows a “winze” that leads between multiple levels of adits in this mine. In this case, the exposed planks make this winze obvious. However, some mines may have one or more winzes that have been fully covered by planks or plywood. They may not be detectable because of accumulated dirt or overhead sloughing in the tunnel.

Figure 8, Roy Rogers Winze

Old timbers, regardless of how solid they may appear to be, may have succumbed to dry rot. For your personal safety – please do not enter these areas!

Figure 9 shows the entrance to one of the adits at the mine. Although the entrance appears to be stable (there is no detectable sloughing of overhead rock) it is not a safe area to enter. You can, however, safely approach the entrance and examine the adit, as shown in this photo.

Figure 9, Upper Adit at Mine

There are three items of interest at this entrance: First, notice the greenish copper ore at the top of the entrance. This was primarily a copper mine, but may have extracted a modest amount of gold. There is no evidence of silver ore. Second, notice how narrow this adit is. The vein of copper at this level was barely three feet in width. Third, notice the sharp drop at the right of the adit entrance. There was, apparently, an ore drift that descended to the right of the adit entrance for several feet.

Figure 10 illustrates yet another reason why it is unsafe to enter abandoned mines. In addition to the partially covered winze in the center, you can also see a substantial amount of rock that has dropped (sloughed) from the ceiling. I have used this photo in a previous article on mine safety.

Figure 10, Winze in the Interior of Roy Rogers Adit

On an earlier visit to this adit we encountered a speckled rattlesnake at about the spot where this photo was taken. Snakes use these entrances to escape from the day time heat during the summer months and may also hibernate in the mine during the winter season.

Figure 11, Roy Rogers Adit #3

As you are examining the adits and shaft shown in Figures 6-10, you will be able to see the third of the Roy Rogers adits by looking toward the cabin. Notice that the dark band is again visible above the adit as it passes over the saddle.

Unfortunately, the stage coach road that brought you to the Roy Rogers Mine is now almost completely overgrown with brush as it leads down the eastern flank of the mountain. Old aerial photos still show the route into Constellation, but it is no longer passable without a machete. Your return to the trailhead will retrace the route followed to reach the Roy Rogers.

Before You Go – Common Sense Precautions

• Although I have trekked through this area during the summer months, you may find it more enjoyable between October and April if you are not a warm weather hiker.
• After you depart from Buckhorn Road (shown in the maps below) you will be crossing a combination of BLM-administered land as well as deeded private land. Livestock graze throughout this area and I have occasionally met hunters over the years. The forbearance that a land owner gives to you will likely depend upon the courtesy that you show to him or her.
• All mine workings shown in the photos are located on private property. Please do not disturb or remove any item, regardless of how insignificant it may seem to you.
• The stage coach trail that leads north from Buckhorn Road to the Roy Rogers Mine is approximately 120 years old. It is not maintained and requires high clearance 4WD.
• Hiking becomes necessary once you reach the first adit (shown in Figure 2). I recommend that you park your vehicle just north of the corral and enjoy the entire trip on foot.
• All mines are dangerous. Stay Out – Stay Alive! The adits shown in this article DO contain rattlesnakes.

How to Get There

1. From the Rodeo Grounds in Wickenburg, drive east on Constellation Road. Remain on Constellation until you arrive at the fork for Buckhorn Road. A sign will identify the turnoff.
2. Turn right onto Buckhorn road. The route will take you along the northern flank of the King Solomon range and bring you to King Solomon Gulch.
3. Continue on Buckhorn Road as it leads you up the southern flank of Black Rock Mountain. Remain on the road until you reach the corral shown in the map below.
   
4. Turn left onto the trail at the corral. The GPS coordinates for the turnoff are: N 34D 02′ 48″ by W 112D 34′ 33″ (WGS84). Do not block the entrance to the corral or the trail with your vehicle.
5. Proceed north on the trail as shown below. After passing several mine workings you will arrive at the crest which overlooks the Monte Cristo Mine in the basin to the north. The GPS coordinates for this point are: N 34D 03′ 26.5″ by W 112D 34′ 40.3″
6. The trail will turn sharply right and will bring you to the miner’s cabin in a small saddle. The Roy Rogers adits and shaft are located a short distance east of the saddle. Follow the old trail to these features.

Round trip distance from the corral to the Roy Rogers Mine is slightly over three miles. Your total hike distance may be greater if you choose to explore some of the side features I have described.

Flying M Air has been based at Wickenburg airport since the company started business in 2001, when it began offering helicopter rides and tours in a two-seat Robinson R22 helicopter. In those days, most business was local, for aerial photography and survey work. The little helicopter also appeared at several outdoor events to offer inexpensive, short helicopter rides.

In 2005, the company took delivery of a four-seat Robinson R44 Raven II. Fresh from the Torrance, CA factory, the helicopter was outfitted to Flying M Air’s specifications and includes many features specifically for sightseeing and air charter work, such as “bubble” observation windows, GPS navigation, traffic information system, and voice-activated stereo intercom system. In February 2005, Flying M Air received a FAA Part 135 certificate, which enables the company to provide air taxi and charter services.

Flying M Air began offering multi-day excursions by helicopter in 2007. Its Southwest Circle Helicopter Adventure, which is featured in the Arizona Highways article, is a six-day, five-night trip with overnight stops and tours at Sedona, Grand Canyon, Lake Powell, Monument Valley, and Flagstaff. The company offers these excursions in the Spring and Autumn months only. Most flights are booked several months in advance.

The vast majority of Flying M Air’s business is in the Phoenix area. The company has relationships with several resorts in Phoenix and Scottsdale which promote the company’s tours and day trips.

Flying M Air also does a lot of aerial photography and aerial survey work for fine art photographers, videographers, engineers, Realtors, and other professionals who need an eye in the sky. The company has provided helicopter services during week-long photo excursions in the Lake Powell, Monument Valley, and Shiprock areas of the southwest. It has also worked at several boat and off-road race events with still and video photographers on board.

This isn’t the first time Flying M Air has been recognized in print. The company was also featured as one of about 15 Robinson helicopter operators worldwide in the Jon Davison coffee table book, Robbie: The Robinson Helicopter Experience. Published in December 2008, this book is available online and in pilot shops across the country.

Flying M Air flies out of Wickenburg from September through May. Summer months are spent on agricultural “cherry drying” contracts in Washington State.

You can learn more about Flying M Air on its Web site, www.FlyingMAir.com. The company does not maintain an office at Wickenburg airport, but can meet prospective clients and passengers there. Call for an appointment or to book a flight: 928/231-0196.

On Sunday, my husband’s cousin and his girlfriend were in town from Seattle. They were bummed out because of the weather — it was rainy with low clouds — but we desert-dwellers were thrilled. We’ve had quite a bit of rain this winter and the desert is lush and green — or as lush as a desert can be, anyway. Every time it rains, we think about how much greener the grass between the cacti will get and how incredible the spring flowers will be in another month or so.

They wanted to do something and we wanted to do something outdoors. So we geared up with hiking boots and jackets and water bottles, packed ourselves into my Jeep with Jack the Dog, and drove out to the Vulture Peak Trailhead, which is about 7 or 8 road miles from our house.

Vulture Peak is the tallest mountain in Wickenburg and, indeed, the tallest peak in the immediate vicinity. It’s the remains of a volcano and has an odd shape that gives it a completely different look depending on what direction you’re viewing it from. From our house, it looks like a tall knob. But from the main trailhead parking lot, it looks like a wide rocky butte.

It was still raining when we drove through the main trailhead parking lot and continued on the 4WD road to the trailhead at the foot of the mountain. To get there, we had to drive down a very steep, very eroded embankment. I’m too cowardly to drive down places like that, so I climbed out and Mike climbed in behind the wheel. He threw it into 4 low and crawled down the hill, letting one wheel and then another hang in the air while the rest of the wheels did all the work. At the bottom, I climbed back in behind the wheel and we continued on the way.

My Jeep, Packed to the Gills.

The rain — a steady drizzle — let up when we reached the second trailhead. I parked and we tumbled out. My Jeep is a 4-seat Wrangler and it was packed to the gills with the four of us and a 55-lb dog. Good thing I had the doors and back windows off to give us breathing room.

Above us, the clouds were moving briskly from south to north. It was about 10 AM and the sun was trying hard to break through the low clouds. It looked promising. We started up the trail toward the saddle.

I’ve written extensively about Vulture Peak for wickenburg-az.com. That piece, originally written in 1999, is accompanied by the tiny photos the Web site supported back then. One of my goals on this trip was to take some better photos to share on the site, and possibly include in my Photo Gallery. So I had my Nikon D80 with me, as well as two lenses: my 16-85mm zoom and my 10.5mm fisheye.

My companions quickly got a lead on me up the steep trail. I’m miserably out of shape these days, but I never did do well on uphill climbs. Sure, I can do downhill on a trail all day long without lagging, but point me up a hill and be prepared to wait. I’ll get there — eventually — but I need a lot of rest stops along the way.

A view from the start of my hike.

I took the opportunity to shoot some photos as I hiked. The brightening desert was all around me and, as I walked, the sun poked out and cast its bright, warm light here and there. And then there was the novelty of wet rocks and drops of water on the cacti. And puddles. Do you know how seldom we see puddles out in the desert? That day, they were all over the place.

Soon I was alone on the trail, huffing and puffing as I hiked upwards. The trail is probably rated as intermediate difficulty from the second trailhead, where we started, to the saddle. (It’s probably rated easy from the first trailhead to the second; a nice 1-1/2 mile stroll on a narrow pathway through the desert.) It’s not a long walk, but it’s steep. After an initially easy straight climb, it zig-zags up the mountain on a series of narrow switchbacks neatly carved into the terrain.

On Vulture Peak Trail.

I was upset to see that some hikers had inconsiderately cut corners, creating “shortcuts” of crumbling rock trails. I was also bothered by the sight of uprooted penstemon — one of the few wildflowers already in bloom — tossed aside on the trail. Who would tear wildflowers out by the root? And why? Apparently there are people out there with far less appreciation for the desert than we have. Perhaps they should have stayed home in front of their TVs and video games and left the plant life alone to grow and multiply.

Within an hour, I was near the saddle where the trail opens up to a wide area offering views in two directions. On one side, to the north, is the rocky peak of the mountain. On the other side, to the south, is a series of secondary peaks that reach up to the sky with jagged, tooth-like edges. I fully expected to be alone there, too. The summit was a short but difficult steep climb away and I assumed Mike and his companions would have made the climb by then. But they were there, waiting for me. Our out-of-town visitors had been spooked by the hand-over-hand portion of the climb and had decided the saddle was far enough up the mountain. That’s unfortunate because the view from up there is 360° and, on such a clear, crisp day, would have been breathtaking.

View from near the top of the Vulture Peak trail.

I rested up, snapping photos with my camera. I soon realized that exposures would be a problem and used bracketing to ensure I’d get at least one shot out of three that was properly exposed. (What did we do before we had digital cameras? Waste film? Waste time in a darkroom? Waste photo paper on crappy shots half the time?)

We hiked around a bit in the saddle area, then went to explore the areas around the secondary peaks. I’d never hiked up that way. It wasn’t much of a hike, but there were no real trails. We each made our way separately. Occasionally, I’d hear the voices of my companions or see Jack the Dog scampering around the base of a rocky mound.

Looking southeast between secondary peaks.

I climbed up to a point between two rocks and was instantly struck by the view of the line of peaks with the sun full on their wet rocks. I snapped a picture quickly, sorry that I had my fisheye lens on the camera. I switched lenses as the sun hid behind a speeding cloud again. I remained rooted in that space until the sun returned and I could snap a few more shots. My husband, Mike, joined me and we watched the ever-changing show of light and shadow on the rocks, cacti, and flat desert terrain beyond.

At our feet were geode-like rocks with crystals. I’m sure someone with a knowledge of geology would find them very interesting. Mike picked up a small piece of crystal to show our companions, who had already started back down the trail.

The Trailhead at the Foot of Vulture Peak.

The hike down was much quicker for me — as it usually is — and we were back at the Jeep within 30 minutes. I paused to take a photo of the peak from the trailhead. This wide angle shot throws things out of perspective a bit, but it gives you an idea of the terrain and destination. The “saddle” is the area in the “V” of the mountain, where that big, puffy cloud is. The main peak is the one on the left; the secondary peaks, which are shorter, are to the right.

We drove back to the main trailhead and I successfully steered the Jeep up the steep, eroded road. (Somehow, up isn’t nearly as scary as down.) The parking area was just as empty as when we’d arrived. Evidently we were the only people who would experience the incredible beauty of this desert mountain right after a winter rain.

Related Links

Here are a few other articles and blog posts I’ve written about Vulture Peak, as well as a link to a slide show of my Arizona images.

On An Eclectic Mind:

• VFR On Top
• Air to Air
• Retouched Photos?

On wickenburg-az.com:

• A Foggy Morning in Wickenburg
• The View from the Top
• Vulture Peak Trail Hike
• Vulture Peak Rescue

On Flying M Photos:

• Flying M Photos Home Page
• Arizona Photos Slide Show

The trail system will become part of the official Arizona Trail System and was selected from some of the many trails that exist in the area. As shown in the map, trail A has two internal connector trails, trails B and C are loops, and trails D and E lead to the Hassayampa River and Box Canyon via Dinosaur Wash. All are well marked with carsonites (signs). These trails are for riders, hikers and mountain bikes only. Trails for motorized vehicles are being planned for the future.

You can also download the following two items:

• A GPX file (track and waypoints) for use in GPS units
• A map of the trail system in PDF format

The trailhead complex consists of day use parking with kiosk, a horse staging and RV parking area and an overflow staging area. Camping is permitted in the staging areas. No other facilities such as water, toilets or trash containers are provided at this time.

The area is typical Sonoran Desert landscape with stands of saguaro, ocotillo, palo verde and mesquite trees and various varieties of cactus. Wild life may make an occasional appearance: deer, a family of javelina, desert tortoise and the ubiquitous coyote and jackrabbit. The trails provide wonderful views with a backdrop of the magnificent Weaver and Bradshaw mountain ranges. Springtime can cause a spectacular wild flower bloom that depends on the amount and timing of the winter’s rainfall.

To reach the trailhead turn north onto El Recreo Road (just east of the Hassayampa River bridge in downtown Wickenburg) from U.S. 60. El Recreo Road merges into Constellation Road. Travel 3.2 miles on Constellation, then take a left on Blue Tank Road and travel for 1.4 miles to the trailhead. These roads cross wash areas that may be flooded and eroded during and after storms.

A special thanks is extended to the many other groups and individuals for the effort and cooperation necessary to make this happen: Foremost is to the Wellik Foundation for the initial grant to hire a professional trail planner to design and implement the trail complex, Arizona Fox Trotters Association, Grantham Fence Company, Lone Rangers Riding Club, Carson Construction, Johnson Lumber, Ace Hardware, Arizona Power System, Tommy Riggs and Rupert Lemons. Job well done!