Coyote Mountain 6,529′
Southern Arizona
Total Time: 9:55
Distance: 10.1 miles
Elevation Gain: 4500′
Crux: Class 3
Trailhead: End of W Dills Best Rd, no services
I had made some good progress on Arizona P2Ks in 2018, but was starting to run out of low hanging fruit, or at least peaks that made for a reasonable day trip from Phoenix. There were only a handful left that were under 3 hours of driving to the trailhead, and even less that were high enough in elevation to tackle on a mid September day with temperatures still approaching 100 degrees in the valley. With much deliberation, I decided on Coyote Peak to the south, about 30 miles southwest of Tucson. Blending with the larger Kitt Peak from the city, it is far more rugged than its’ next door neighbor and is a notoriously difficult bushwack. But with the summit just under 7K, it seemed like a reasonable option for an early fall day. Despite reading multiple trip reports online from experienced desert peakbaggers failing on their first attempt, I still did not give the mountain enough respect, leaving Phoenix at 5:45 AM and not starting my hike until about 8:20.
It was already warm starting out, and I wanted to get up high as quickly as possible, starting out on the trail down an old road, some of the only trail for the day. I was probably only 10 minutes from the start when I encountered a small Desert Tortoise, my first time ever coming across one in the wild. Despite my need to keep moving, I couldn’t help but stop an enjoy the encounter, although I never convinced him to fully come out of his shell before I had to continue on.
The old road slowly gained elevation as it headed west into the range and I burned through the easy miles hitting a hairpin turn in the road where the easy stuff ended. I very briefly continued on the road away from the mountain before finding a cairned turn off to cross the adjacent drainage, then hooked back west to find the old an overgrown footpath. Despite the reputation as a bushwack, there is a “trail” that goes all the way to the summit. Reported to be constructed by a rancher to ride his horses to the top with his wife, the old path had fallen into obscurity decades ago and has been reclaimed by the desert, with small rock walls lining the path often being the only indicator of the route. The lower section leaving the road was still fairly well defined, likely used by animals as it skirted the deep canyon with small tanks of water.
As it started to switchback up the brushy slopes, I would lose the path at almost every switchback, eventually finding it again a bit higher up. Multiple times, I completely lost the trail and just charged upslope, eventually finding it after 200′ of pushing through brush. It would be easy to waste time trying to stick with the trail as much as possible, but in reality it didn’t offer much better terrain than tackling the slope directly, and it was somewhat liberating to just charge upslope whenever I lost the vague route.
From my map, I knew this lower section hit the ridgeline up to the left a bit under 5,000′, and in general I aimed for a low point on the ridgeline, keeping with the trail about 75% of the time. I took my first rest at the ridgeline, chased away from a large shady boulder by some truly enormous wasps. I finally had some impressive views of the massive granite domes and features in Mendoza Canyon to the south, home to some old school backcountry trad routes that had just mfound themselves on my to do list.
I would have them in sight the rest of the climb, with the monster summit of Baboquivari looming behind. I knew that the trail only got worse from here, and continued up switchbacks that skirted the northern slopes of the ridgeline, heading towards some large outcroppings above. The northern slopes were a bit less brushy than other sections of the trail, although I still had dozens of burrs and seeds covering my pants and socks as I climbed. At a little over 5,000′ the trail crossed over the ridgeline onto the southern slopes, and it became a little more difficult to follow. In general it stayed about 100′ below the ridgeline proper, dropping to skirt around rock faces and cliffs. A part of me wanted to try and scramble the ridgeline directly, but I stuck with the “trail” when possible, although I use that term extremely loosely for the remainder of the hike.
I got a second wind as I neared the a saddle around 5600′, tempered by a growing number of skin daggers and cat claw spilling onto the path. Although the summit was still out of view, the false summit in sight directly above was pretty close, and I dropped south off the saddle to try and find a long traversing path to a gully. This was possibly the most overgrown section yet, with challenging route finding through a field of boulders spilling off the ridgeline above. After traversing across the slopes for probably about 3/4 of a mile, I entered a high and shallow basin at the base of a large gully leading up to the ridgeline above.
There were a good number of cairns as I started up the gully but I still managed to lose the route quickly, ultimately attacking some fairly solid slabs directly which made for fun but brief brush-free scrambling. I was back on the high ridgeline at 6200′, only a few hundred feet below the summit. But between a constant bushwack, getting stabbed in the legs by seemingly every plant on the mountain and burning through my water at an almost alarming rate, I was starting to bonk pretty hard. My pace dropped considerably as I started up the final switchbacks. Although nearly at the summit, the use trail skirts some cliffs to the north, and I lost it in some deep holly bushes. It was the first time I lost my patience on the day, so close to the summit, yet thrashing through sharp brush well over my head. I picked up the trail again at a rocky notch, and the brush thinned for the last 100 yards, weaving around small pinyon pine and juniper to the rocky high point for a deserved long break at the summit. Although Mendoza Canyon was out of sight below, Baboquivari and Kitt Peak still offered great views to the south, with open desert to the north, and the high peaks around Tucson to the northeast. I tried to pick out Mount Ajo and other peaks around Organ Pipe National Monument to the west, but had a hard time through the haze.
By the end of my rest, I had burned through over 3 of my five liters of water for the day, the temperatures still in the mid 80s near the summit. There was a reason I was the only September summit in the register going back to the 1990s. I knew the descent would probably take just as long given the thick brush, but thought I might have a more enjoyable time if I stuck to the ridgeline to at least get me to the saddle at 5600′. The gully and low traverse were the most overgrown section of the route, and I reasoned that the only reason that line was selected was for stock, with probable good class 3 lines down the ridgeline proper. I was able to find the portion of the trail on the way down that I had missed in the holly bushes and quickly made it back to 6200′. Instead of dropping into the gully, I continued down the ridgeline, finding some great rock to scramble as I worked on large boulders above the brush. There was plenty of class 3 required although I never looked for easier options, just happy to be on clean rock above the brush. In the sections between the rock, the soil, although loose, made for a great descent with much thinner brush than the slopes below. I was almost sad to see it end when I hit the saddle, easily saving a half hour of bushwacking for the much more enjoyable line. Although it would likely be tougher on the ascent given the looseness, I would unequivocally recommend it for a descent line.
Although still miles from the car, I felt like the worst was behind me and picked the trail back up, quickly getting a reality check with cactus daggers in my shins every other step. I didn’t appreciate how long this section was to get back to where I took my first break at the ridgeline, the sun already dipping low as I dropped off the ridgeline into the drainage below.
I did a little better job sticking to the route on the descent but still lost it crossing a gully about halfway down. When I was nearly to the road, I stopped to for one final thorn and seed removal for the hike out, finding I had also collected a blue beetle and a few caterpillars on my pants, looking more like the desert than clothing. I killed my last bit of water when I hit the road, the light beginning to fade with the sun behind the mountain. I kept my eyes peeled for the tortoise on my return but saw no sight of him, reaching the car with about 30 minutes of light to spare. I peeled off my clothes covered in burrs and seeds and changed before heading out on the sandy road for a very late dinner on the drive back to Phoenix.