Red Mountain is one of a handful of peaks in Arizona named “Red”, an uncreative way to acknowledge that most of the peak is red in color due to oxidization of the exposed rock. This particular Red Mountain is located in the southern part of the state in Santa Cruz County overlooking the picturesque town of Patagonia, about 25 miles northeast of Nogales. Red Mountain is directly south and east of Patagonia, rising abruptly over the valley floor and featuring a respectable prominence of 1,398 feet, placing it 180th on the unofficial master list of Arizona summits. The peak has a nice shape with steep lines and prominent, forest-covered ridges, while a set of communications towers and an active forest service lookout are situated right at the top. On the peak’s south, the vegetation is more sparse, a combination of smaller trees including juniper and mountain oak, woody shrubs, flowers and grasses. There are cliff bands and interesting natural rock formations, in various shades of red, orange and pink. It’s a surprisingly pretty mountain.

Beth and I have been to Patagonia before, but it had been six years since we were last here, visiting Mount Wrightson, which towers to the north of the town. I came upon this peak through some web searches and was surprised it was so close to town and offered a route to the top. We thought about coming here over the summer but even here, it gets very hot during the day. We planned to come back in fall, but then we discovered the little hotel in town, the Stage Stop Inn, is closed for the time being. There were other circumstances that came into play, and Beth opted out of coming along, so it would just be me.

I left home the day before around 4 p.m., got some supplies in Tucson and by the time I exited onto State Route AZ-83, it was dark. I drove south on AZ-83 to the Gardner Canyon Road, Coronado Forest Road 92, the route used to access Mount Wrightson from the east. In utter blackness I drove in and was able to score a nice camp area, rolling in around 7:30. It was very quiet and serene here. There were some other campers strung out along the road but they were far enough so as not to be seen nor heard. Then, about 9:30 p.m., a number of vehicles start coming in along the main road (I was about 4 miles from the paved state highway). Not one car, but three, four, even six, at a time! Where were they all going? The road dead ends up against Mount Wrightson, and there aren’t any side routes (that I know of) connecting to other roads. This went on for two hours—I stopped counting when I reached about 25 vehicles. There’s a ranch back in these hills, but why would 25 vehicles need to go there? My guess it was the Border Patrol staging themselves for the evening. I never saw the vehicles in the dark but the lights suggested official vehicles.

The night got quite cold, but I slept well in the bed of my truck under the down comforter. I awoke at dawn the next morning and stuck around a little while to get warm and let the sun rise some more. I started rolling around 7:30 a.m. and exited onto the state highway into Sonoita then Patagonia, following Harshaw Road southeastish about 4.7 miles to a non-descript junction with Forest Road 4649. Actually, I overshot it at first but caught my error quickly and came back to it. There’s nothing here to indicate the road goes to the top—maybe the forest service wants it that way. The road itself is rough and crosses a stream in about three places, necessitating high clearance. I was amused to see patches of ice in the small pools of water still lingering after some storms earlier in the week. I was able to drive about a mile along this road to where it bent right (toward Red Mountain) and gained up a slightly ugly and eroded section (needing 4-wheel drive) to gain onto a flattish little bench, with a small clearing and a fire ring suggesting it’s been used before as a camp spot. I was sufficiently hidden from the main road so I parked, got myself ready, and started the hike at 8:20 a.m., elevation 4,500 feet.

The summit and most of the route are visible from below. Some of the road was cut into the cliffs and, not unexpectedly, look like big gashes across the slope. The initial half mile was spent walking up the easy, flattish foothills directly below the main summit body. Then, very quickly, the road steepens considerably and starts up a series of steep switchbacks—steep for a vehicle, that is. For walking, the gradient was very reasonable, maybe moderately steep in a few spots. I was surprised how warm it was! And buggy, too, including big fat three-inch grasshopper things that leapt right into me as I walked past them. I made good time and marched up the initial set of switchbacks, including one section directly below a huge rock pillar that looks like it won’t be there much longer! I was aiming for a pass up ahead, and just before I got to the top, came upon a little thin snake sunning himself on the road. He was not poisonous, about 15 inches long but thin as a pencil. I took his photo, then he slithered into the brush.

At the pass (elevation about 5,535 feet), the summit comes into view once again, an impressive conical shape covered in low forest cover and open cliffy slopes. The road drops slightly, then traverses to the north of Peak 5,847 (which the topographical map has erroneously marked as “Red Mountain”). The road comes to the saddle to the west of this sub-peak, then continues west traversing below the main summit, finally coming to a saddle due west at elevation 6,060 feet. Hanging a sharp right, the road drops about 100 feet to a lowpoint near an old junction with an un-used side road (the hills are covered in these fallow old roads). Finally, the road climbs again, comes to a gate, then bends one more time before the very top. I arrived at the top at about 10:30 a.m., a two-hour ascent and about 2,000 feet of gross gain (including the handful of drops and re-gains). The weather up here was cooler and breezy, and just spectacular. The air was dry and across the valley was the mighty Mount Wrightson and its major satellite, Mount Hopkins. Other peaks readily visible were the Rincons and Catalina Ranges near Tucson, the Sierrita Range, the big pillar of Baboquivari, the Atascosa Range, San Cayetano Peak near Nogales, and looking south and east, the Huachucas with Miller Peak, and a number of peaks off in Mexico. I spent a few restful minutes on a bench in the shade of the lookout tower, which was not occupied today. After maybe 10 minutes, I started the walk down.

The descent went well and took about 90 minutes, the main issue being the sometimes loose rubbly rocks on the road. I slipped here and there, and mindful of a bad slip and sprain of my ankle from last year (which is still kind of weak), I had to be careful not to aggravate it again. I am proud to say I never actually hit butt to road, but a few times it was a close call. Back to my truck, the heat had really kicked up (maybe low to mid 90s here), and those grasshopper creatures were bounding into me every chance they got. I exited back into Patagonia then into Nogales, then from there I stopped in Grass Valley for a lunch at an authentic ma & pa Mexican food place. Mmm, good stuff.

This had been a good hike, all things considered. I had never heard of it before and the peak does not show up on most websites. Most people who come this way for a hike usually head toward Wrightson (which is perfectly understandable). For the record, Harshaw Road continues south and eventually leads to the gorgeous San Rafael Valley, which abuts the border with Mexico (the old border crossing town at Lochiel is still there, with maybe 10 full time residents). Beth and I drove this loop back in 2004. As for “illegal smuggling” activity: Red Mountain is 14 miles by road to the border, but the area was crawling with Border Patrol vehicles. I did not feel I was in an unsafe area; proximity to the border does not necessarily mean more threatening situations. I played it safe by trying to park out of sight, but I try to do this wherever I hike.