Hike of the Month

Seldom are hawks seen from above, but here on Picacho Peak I make the mistake of glancing down past my foot. Beyond is air, that thin stuff of plummeting pebbles, falling parachutists, and soaring birds. Hundreds of feet below, a hawk cuts close hunter's patterns along the ledges. My right foot quivers on a small iron bar plunged into the rock face, and the left paws for a toehold. If it weren't for these cable ladders, I'd need ropes to inch up Picacho. It's Arizona's Shiprock with stairs. Somehow the ironwork holds as it has held for 60 years and for thousands of other hikers and I reach the summit of this eroded volcanic butte just before sunset descends. Wind gusts snatch my cap and threaten to blow it back over the precipitous edges of the summit patch.

WHEN YOU GO

Picacho Peak is 40 miles north of Congress Street in Tucson on Interstate 10. Take Exit 219 and go west a half-mile to the state park. The ranger who collects fees can provide directions to the Hunter Trailhead. The Newman Peak topo map covers Picacho Peak, but a state road map will help identify distant ranges and communities. Most hikers prefer climbing Picacho between November and May. Take water in any season and wear footwear suitable for scree and rock. Allow four to five hours for the four-mile round-trip to the summit. Picacho Peak State Park has 85 developed ca developed campsites (camping is allowed only in designated areas) as well as 12 hookups, group-use areas, picnic areas, and ramadas. Supplies and fuel are available a quarter mile from the park. For visitors with impaired mobility, parking spaces, walkways, water fountains, and recreational-vehicle hookups are accessible, as are two ramadas. Trails are not. For additional information, contact Picacho Peak State Park, Box 275, Picacho, AZ 85241; telephone, (602) 466-3183.

I look down on the roof of my vehicle 1,400 feet below and hear the voices of children playing in the campground. Far to the south, I can see fresh snow on peaks 90 miles distant. To the north, lights glow in the Salt River Valley. It's all here for the eye: majestic wilderness peaks, orderly fields, metropolitan mazes. The only better view of southern Arizona would be from a tethered blimp. The sun casts a lengthening shadow, as if Picacho Peak itself were some giant sundial. I feel on top of the world and wave my arms, but mere mortals don't register at the tip of the pinnacle's shadow stretching miles across the valley. An hour later, the fullness of the rising moon throws the shadow back across the valley in a tug of cosmic lights as sure as tides. But as spectacular as the evening view is, the morning is not to be outdone. The rising sun stirs the air, and wind surges over the prow of the peak. Like porpoises riding the bow wave of a ship, white-throated swifts dive and spin and sail. Presumably they are feeding on windblown insects, but I think I see one smile as the birds take turns "surfing" the waves of air. Again the peak becomes its own sundial. While descending, I notice far more flowers than I had seen climbing the peak. I prefer to think the light was different then, not that I was too tuckered to appreciate Picacho living up to its renowned floral display. Below the midway saddle, I meet an intent lad striding up the trail. He's followed by two young friends, who occasionally stop to peer upward with binoculars gauging their progress. Dad and sister tromp behind them. Winded by the ascent, Dad stops to chat. "Actually, this is Brian's hike," he explains. "His school took a field trip up here, and all he's talked about since is the climb and the plants. From our home in Casa Grande, we can see the peak, but in all the years there and all the times I've driven by, today is the first time I've set foot on its slopes. Why have I waited so long?"

CLIMB PICACHO PEAK FOR A REAL BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF ARIZONA