Many of the place-names out West are rather colorful. Unlike constellations in the sky, mountain peaks sometimes actually look like the animal, saddle, or portions of Mollie's anatomy that they were named for.
Usually they sound more romantic in Spanish. Other peaks were named to honor early settlers. Some peaks even had the dishonor of being named after politicians of the day.
I was a bit frustrated by wasting the gasoline to get here. It looked as uninteresting as it did on the map. I got parked and we immediately started walking towards this peak.
It was a shock to see that the desert vegetation had completely changed just because we'd climbed a couple hundred feet above the Santa Cruz "River." How could plants be so local, so particular about where they grow? We were back in sticker and thorn country.
The chain chollas here are as thick as a forest. They made it hard to even get a peek at distant Picacho.
They have nasty barbed spines similar to the Evil Ones but they are larger and more intimidating. Fortunately they aren't as deciduous with their segments. That makes them the second worst plants in the world.
There wasn't a single thing about this peak that would tempt the BLM into wasting a brown stake on it. But I was charmed by it. When you come to an overlooked location like this, surprises are usually on the upside.
We followed our best instincts by walking up a declivity to a saddle. Small though this peak was, it had a wide variety of what you might wish to see on any mountain. It had slopes and faces that met fresh mornings, and others that waved farewells at weary afternoons.
There were a few desert wildflowers along the way.
What do people see in these silly things? What a pity they can't appreciate true beauty like...well, like...
O how they drape over, how they adorn the desert! As the poet said ... for many a power line is meant to blush unseen.
