The Harcuvar Mountains are located in western Arizona in La Paz County, running parallel to the Harquahala Mountains to the south. Between the Harcuvars and the Harquahalas is the low-lying McMullen Valley and highway US-60, and the communities of Salome and Wenden. The highpoint of the Harcuvar Range is Smith Mountain, which I hiked back in January 2006. Harcuvar Mountain is a highly-prominent peak in the western half of the range, split by low Cunningham Pass. From Salome, Harcuvar Mountain looks like a big trapezoid, with angular slopes leading up to a flattish summit ridge. Despite being “only” 4,600 feet, and about 700 feet lower than Smith Peak, Harcuvar Peak has its own attractiveness to it. Whereas Smith has a road to the top, no such road or trail exists for Harcuvar’s summit—the only way up is a grunt up a ridge to the top. Not many people climb Harcuvar, as we would soon discover.

My semi-regular climbing partner, Scott Casterlin from Tucson, was in town attending to some business and he had a day open, so we decided to knock out Harcuvar while the opportunity presented itself. I had just completed a semester of teaching at ASU and had a couple down days before heading west to California for some visiting with family, so I had some time free, too. He drove to my home in Chandler and by 6:15 in the morning we were on the road west. We took Interstate-10 to the Salome Road exit, then Salome Road into Salome the town—about 90 miles total. Harcuvar Peak is plainly visible due north of town, but the easier access (as far as we know) is from the nearby town of Wenden, about 5 miles northeast along US-60. Salome and Wenden are ringed by farms (lots of cotton we saw), and the grid of roads north of the highway can be a bit confusing since they “end” randomly or sometimes lead into someone’s home. We made some educated guesses here and there but eventually found a decent route into the Harcuvar foothills. Most of Arizona had been hit by a pretty good rainstorm the past couple of days, so mud and standing water on the roads was a concern.

Our road directions (skip over if you find this boring): At the railroad tracks in Wenden on the Alamo Road, we went north about 1.4 miles onto what would be the 71 ½ Road alignment (it was unmarked). We went left (west) onto this road, which cuts diagonally off of Alamo Road and fronts an irrigation canal. We followed this farm road about 1.6 miles, always with the irrigation canal to my left. In places the mud was very thick and there were big puddles of standing water, but my truck made through the mess in fine (dirty) shape. At 1.6 miles the farms end and the road continues west as a desert track, generally paralleling a barbed-wire fence. This road went west two more miles to a corner of fences, but a cattle-grate opening allows for a right turn onto a northbound track. Unfortunately the rain had eroded the road and left about a 10-inch berm to get up and over the cattle grate. We got out and kicked the berm down a bit so that it had a slantier profile, and then I eased the truck in 4wd over this bit, with Casterlin spotting me in case I might high-center, but I made it up. Now northbound, we followed this track about a mile in and out of many small arroyos and creekbeds, then a dog-leg left up the main track about two more miles as the road slowly entered into the broad canyon south of Harcuvar Peak. We ended up parking at a turn-around with a fire pit roughly two miles south of the peak. The road continues from here but steeply descends into the main wash emanating from this canyon, then up the other side. Up to here the road had been passable, and the mud, rock and sand sections were not too bad, but I definitely needed my truck’s high clearance and 4-wheel drive capabilities. However, the road into and out of the major wash north of my parking spot was way too nasty for my truck (a narrower Jeep might have handled it). It was about 9:15 when we stopped and within 15 minutes had our shoes on and packs ready, and up we started.

The initial portion of the hike was a simple walk up the remaining road toward a low pass and numerous mine shafts and adits as shown on the map. We covered about two miles in about an hour and walked all the way to the end of the road, thinking there may be some footpath from here and possibly one to the ridge, but no dice. All rocks and heavy brush to the ridgeline, so we abandoned that plan and started up a prominent southeasterly ridge that looked reasonably gentle. My GPS had us about 3,200 feet elevation, an 800-foot gain above where we parked, but still some 1,300 feet below the summit. I psyched myself up for this ridge grunt. They’re never very fun but at least you gain elevation quickly. As usual, we hoped this ridge would “go” and not lead us into some impassable cliffs.

The ridge was pretty steep down low. Usually all we could see was some big rock jumble up ahead maybe 200-300 vertical feet, so we’d march and grunt to these rocks see what was ahead—usually another rock jumble another 200-300 feet above. The terrain wasn’t too bad. Lots of rocks, of course, and thick brush and plenty of cactus including plenty of saguaro, but it was usually open enough so that we could avoid the thorns. The rocks were loose, though, and the recent rains left the hillside somewhat muddy and loose in places so we took it step-by-step and very carefully. After maybe 45 minutes we had gained about 700 feet and suddenly the slopes opened up a bit, although it was quite steep still. A distinctive “dark rock” sat above us on the ridge-line horizon and we aimed for it. This bit covered another 200 vertical feet and was probably the trickiest bit since we were on steep open slope and the rocks were generally not staying put when we stepped on them. At the dark rock we now had excellent views of our remaining climb: a much gentler slope of maybe another 200 feet to gain the summit ridge, and from here a short up-and-down walk to the westernmost of the four summit contenders that lie along the ridge. The westernmost summit is a fairly pronounced little point of rock with a USGS benchmark and a good-sized cairn on it. We arrived here right before noon, slightly less than 2.5 hours of hiking. The weather was very nice, mostly clear with high clouds, but very chilly—maybe high 40s at most.

We took a 15-20 minute break here and tried to pick out surrounding features and distant ranges. The Hualapais were due north but other peaks north and east were harder to figure. Way way off to the northeast we think we saw the snow-covered peaks near Flagstaff. South of us was the Harquahalas and off to the southwest we could see Signal and Cunningham Peaks in Yuma County. When the wind picked up the chill was severe and I was itching to get moving if just to stay warm. We opted to check out the other summit “contenders”. The northeasternmost of the summits seemed as high and when we walked over to it, there was a register placed in a small cairn there, with the comments that this point may be higher than the cairned highpoint we were just at. We also noted exactly 3 names in the register: two from 2002, one from 2007, and now Scott and I for 2008. Now, perhaps those who climb Harcuvar aim for the cairned peak and call it good, but still the lack of signatures suggests this peak may get climbed at most just once or twice per year.

The hike down went surprisingly well considering the steepness and occasional slips and slides, but other than some cactus spines here and there, we both made excellent time down the steep ridge and out back to the road, from whence it was an easy downhill stroll back to my truck. Scott had the time as 2:30, meaning a five hour journey overall. I was actually slightly surprised we did it as fast as we did. I bashed the truck out over the desert tracks, had one more run through the mudpits on the farm roads and then back on pavement. We drove into Salome so I could inspect my truck for anything out of the ordinary. All looked well, and the patina of mud everywhere, an inch think in places, was kind of cool too I have to admit. We drove back onto Interstate-10 and got some Subway sammies in Tonopah, then battled Phoenix Friday-night traffic back to my home, arriving about 6 in the dark. A successful day! Scott got his stuff into his car and left soon after, while I showered and vegged the rest of the night. My thanks as always to Scott for company and skill on the peaks.

I figured more people would climb Harcuvar but given the condition of the roads getting close to the foothills, maybe that keeps a handful away. Although the range is public (BLM) land, some of the farm roads may be private although section-line roads are generally publicly accessible. The roads in dry condition seem to be solid but 4-wheel drive is absolutely vital to get close to the peak given the numerous sandy sections and creek-crossings. I was pleasantly surprised how well the hike had gone and am happy to have completed this peak.

After a rest-day back home I re-packed the truck and headed west, this time to Blythe for a date with Big Maria Mountain, and from there, some family time with my folks and my brother’s wife and kids in the snow in Wrightwood.