Superstition Mountain Traverse

January 30, 2020

Superstition Mountain Traverse

I'm down here in Phoenix, Arizona, and I had plans to run the Rock n'Roll Marathon last weekend. I really was hoping that I could run under 4 hours, having run a heartbreaking 4:01:37 in Des Moines back in October. Unfortunately, some random stomach pains/headache but not the flu got in the way, clearing up a day too late for me to even think of wanting to run anywhere but back to bed.

With fresh legs and all the pressure off until I pick another marathon, it's back to the drawing board, and I'm trying to up my speed with Yasso 800's. Once a week, I'm building up repeats of 800 meters (1/2) mile, trying to keep the same fast pace for each repeat. The theory is that the time you run the repeat (3:35 in my case) then becomes your marathon time (3 hours 35 minutes). Anyone found those numbers to be true? I can't imagine actually running a 3:35 marathon.

Road marathons don't make me drool the way a tough trail does, though, and my legs wanted a long one. East of Phoenix, the Superstition Mountains dominate the landscape, rising about 3000 feet above the valley floor. To add to an already challenging traverse, I started my day at the Hieroglyphic trailhead in Gold Canyon, taking the Lost Mine trail around to the start of the 11 mile Superstition traverse.

It was a beautiful morning for a run, and I started out to the sound of desert wrens singing in the shadows of giant Saguaro cacti. It should have been about 5 miles of rolling terrain around to the start of the climb. However, the trail to the summit was completely unmarked, and I ran right by it while admiring the scenery. Oops. About a mile later, I checked my phone map and paled a little. Nothing like an extra couple of miles added to what the guidebook says is the toughest traverse in the Phoenix area, right?

Back at the right trailhead (signed the Wave Cave, btw), I then immediately missed the next trail junction and found myself heading up the Wave Cave with people that definitely weren't doing the traverse! Oops again, but not as far, thank goodness. Finally I was on the right trail, and didn't expect any other junctions until I came down the mountain on the other side. Unexpectedly, I saw a lot of people on the climb up. Six groups or more! Guess they knew where they were going better than I did.

up, Up, UP and away I went. Near the summit, a short side trail took me to the actual peak. It was rocky and steep and beautiful, and I could finally see back down to where I had started. Later on, I was surprised to see a junction heading back down to the Hieroglyph trailhead. Let me say that I was mightily tempted to take that shortcut! I almost had to, as it was challenging to find the traverse trail heading north. I was reminded of my favorite quote from the Robert Jordan Wheel of Time novels. The hunter Lan was said to be able to "track yesterdays wind across stone by moonlight". Yet here I was having trouble finding a well worn path across some slickrock.

I don't know why that sentence stuck with me, but I ran along sniffing out the trail using one rock cairn then the next. The traverse of the ridge started in earnest at that point, just as I was hoping it would be all downhill from here. Not at all. The trail went up and over every tiny bump on the ridge. Some not so tiny. Every time I thought I was near the end, another rocky outcrop would appear.

My biggest fear was tripping on the odd rock and then turtling into a cactus. I imagined myself stuck there in a huge prickly pear variety, futilely waving my arms and legs while sinking deeper into the thorns. Thankfully I kept my feet under me at all times and limited myself to a couple pokes from Yucca encroaching onto the trail.

It was beautiful though, and I settled into a fast walk and enjoyed the cactus and rock formations. At some point near the end of the ridge, I gave up on my goal to do an actual marathon that day by running back to the RV. It was hot and the afternoon was passing away. Jim saved me by agreeing to pick me up at Lost Dutchmen State Park. All I had to do, then, was descend the Siphon Draw. After not seeing a soul for over 6 miles, I finally saw lots of people again in the draw. It was about 2000 feet of descent straight down a dry gully. Very steep and tricky; I recorded my slowest mile of the day going downhill! 45 minutes to slowly pick my way down to the desert floor.

So, so glad to see Jim drive around the bend to pick me up, my legs were toast after 19 miles. Anyway I had just taken my last sip of water, which I'd been rationing for a while!