Failure

“It’s not about the destination, but the journey” is a phrase I’ve heard a lot through my life. Although meant as inspirational, it can seem rather cliche when you don’t make it to your destination. Being a goal-driven individual in my personal life, this mantra equals second place, that I failed. On an early February morning, I experienced the rare failure of a hiker who couldn’t make it to their final destination for multiple reasons. This is a story of that journey.

It all began in late December when my eldest son and I stumbled across the secret waterhole in the Sonoran Desert and found a chatty elderly man who was eager to share more hidden gems in the Valley of the Sun. He had shared that the Eagletail Mountains near Buckeye were a treasure trove of unfound petroglyphs left by the Hohokam Native Americans. Throughout the month of January I kept thinking about the intriguing name of the mountains and how to find the trails within them. I did a lot of internet research and found a site that shared how to drive to the mountains and where to locate the trailhead for Courthouse Rock.

On a particularly cold morning in early February, I left for the Eagletail Mountains, and specifically Courthouse Rock, during sunrise. The temps were in the 30’s, and I had heard that fog was in the Buckeye area. As fog is an unusual weather phenomenon in the Sonoran Desert, I was very eager to head out to see it while traveling to my destination. As the freeway signs pointed more diligently westward towards Los Angeles, I came across some fog near a rest stop. Of course, I had to stop and take a photo like any normal desert dweller!

I merged back onto the freeway and came to the exit, following the directions carefully. I drove into a small town called Harquahala, which I had never heard of before in my life! Consisting mostly of ranches, it was so beautiful to drive through during sunrise. Capturing the morning mist rising from the irrigation canals was becoming an obsession as I stopped repeatedly (probably intriguing- or frightening- the local ranchers with my erratic driving skills).

I finally resumed a consistent speed and kept moving down the main road, in which I reached the crossroads of where the directions say to turn off. But the road to the right (which the directions said to take) didn’t match the name of the road to take. I was a little puzzled so decided to keep heading down the main road. It finally came to a T, and then I took a right, hoping that it would lead me to the mountains. After several miles of driving, it lead me to a dead end, but I had some more great views of the ranches with the mountains in the background.

Turning around, I deduced that the first road to the right was indeed the correct road, although the internet directions had the wrong name for it. I retraced my path back to the road, and turned onto a dirt road. It was pretty smooth, until I came to the first big pothole filled up with all the rainwater from the rainstorms that passed through earlier in the week. Looking like a miniature lake, I drove my low clearance vehicle around the perimeter of it, barely getting wet. I figured if the road remained like this, I would be okay.

I had that positive attitude until I got to the second lake, I mean pothole. It stretched the entire width of the very wide farm road, and looked incredibly deep. I knew better. There is no way I could drive my little car through that!! Without cell service for miles, I knew getting it towed would probably cost a lot of money, not to mention the walk of shame to the nearest ranch for help! I reluctantly parked the car on the side of the road. I could actually see Courthouse Rock in the distance!! Why not walk to it? So I loaded up my camera backpack with all the lenses, food, and water, and set off down the road. It was lined with beautiful singing birds in the trees and free-roaming cattle in the surrounding ranch land.

I walked for over a mile and then realized there weren’t any other potholes on this pretty well-maintained road. Why am I doing all the exercise before even getting to the trail? It was taking forever, I was a little bored, and it seemed counterproductive. I weighed the pros and cons of how to maneuver the car around that small lake in the road, and decided to head back to the car and try again. When I got back to the car, I realized that I walked over 2 miles! Feeling a little disgruntled over the lost time, I was determined to get across or around that water, no matter what!! I found a stick and decided to mark the depth of the water. It was about one inch. Luckily I thought that was pretty funny and spent some time laughing hysterically over the “fear of ruining my engine” over one inch of water!! I got into the car and zipped across Lake Shallow within seconds!

I resumed my travel along the road until after a few miles when I realized why it’s called “Centennial Wash” road, as the wash literally consumes the road at a point. Once again, I came across a large body of water spanning the entire width of the road, lined with thirsty cattle. They weren’t shy, and I had to wait until the curious cows moved aside before gunning my little car’s dry engine to hydroplane across the river.

I resumed course along the smooth dirt road and realized that the birds that were accompanying my trip were unlike the ones back home. So I decreased my car’s speed to a crawl, lowered the passenger window, and got out my zoom lens. I was feeling apprehensive about getting to my destination at this point, so I figured a good bird photo would be a nice consolation prize for any future failure on this trip. I wasn’t disappointed in this plan- a gorgeous kestrel landed on a tree closest to my car and gave me some great poses before flying off. I was feeling better! Let’s get back to reaching the destination!

Rolling up the windows, turning on the tunes, and crawling down the road at a cautious speed, I was on my way!! And then I came to this in the middle of the road- I had to laugh again. Was it a sign to just go home?

Of course the answer was no! Why would a large tumbleweed stop me after forging a wash, wrangling cattle, and photographing a kestrel? I moved around the tumbleweed and resumed on. The mountains were getting closer. I could feel it in my bones. I was getting to Courthouse Rock at any moment! I finally reached a large wooden structure that housed a map of the Eagletail Mountains Wilderness. There was also a warning about trespassing and the consequences from the rural ranch owners. My directions said to find the Pipeline Road at this point and continue for a few miles before reaching the trailhead for Courthouse Rock.

The Pipeline Road was noticeably marked with huge warning signs about the buried pipeline. I headed down the road, looking for the appropriate turn-off to Courthouse Rock. It looked clear on the map, why shouldn’t it be clearly marked on the road? Eventually the road turned into a set of muddy ruts set deep and unevenly above the pipeline. I had to maneuver around them at about 3 mph, finding 45* angles to prevent completely damaging the front end of the car when going up and down the deep dips. I finally got to the sign that I thought indicated the turn-off to Courthouse Rock, and headed left. I went about 100 yards and the “road” completely disappeared into uneven trails. I knew better to even attempt them with my car, and I parked it under a tree. I could see Courthouse Rock from here!!

I strapped on my backpack and resumed the course by foot. I was relieved to see that my parking decision was a wise one as the inclining trail was hard to even hike! I hiked for 3 miles and finally reached Courthouse Rock!! One cannot fully capture the surreal beauty or grandeur that this massive phenomenon of nature poses in the middle of the desert. Here is my attempt.

As I arrived at the eastern side of the base of Courthouse Rock, I started walking around it, heading southward, looking for the trailhead. (Ironically I still couldn’t find the trailhead!) My whole goal for the day was to hike up the Rock to reach the top to see the 360* view of the Sonoran Desert. As I headed around its huge base, I found the signs that indicated I was moving into the wilderness. I had to laugh- I thought I was already in the wilderness?!

I passed through the Wilderness Gate and headed further west to wrap around the base. I walked and walked. The three miles up the road were taking their toll on me… even though I’m an experienced hiker, I wasn’t planning on such a long road trip and walking before the actual hike. I was mentally confused and emotionally frustrated, and that started to impact my physical endurance. I did stubbornly travail towards the western side of the Rock and took time to enjoy the beautiful curve it created against the blue horizon. It looked like the silhouette of an owl! Should I continue to find this trailhead? Or dare I -gasp- give up?

Thinking that maybe a break is all I needed, I stopped for a while for a snack, water, and selfie. I had to document that I was still alive, despite all my roadblocks and wilderness alone time! Finally it was decision time. Should I continue going around Courthouse Rock? Would I even have the strength to climb it if I found the trailhead? I knew what my body was begging me to do. Time to turn around and call it good! I was actually happy to turn back around. I was so frustrated that I felt like the Rock was taunting me, and the coyotes howling in the nearby Eagletail Mountains was not helping my adventurous attitude either! I found another set of Jeep tracks to make a loop back to the main road. I stopped for one final photo before happily running back to the car.

“It’s not about the destination, but the journey.” Was this a failure? I did hike. I did photograph magnificent creatures and geological formations. I did have an adventure that I won’t forget for a while! So I guess it wasn’t a failure, even though the top of Courthouse Rock is awaiting for my stubborn return.