The Black Mountains and its highest point, Mount Perkins, is one of the many ranges that form a natural bulwark separating the elevated desert valleys (in this case, Detrital Valley in Arizona) from the Colorado River far below. The elevation differential between the river and the elevated valleys can be as much as 2,000 feet; the same effect carries over into Nevada and into California as well before the desert seems to drop naturally on towards Blythe and Yuma. Mount Perkins is about 30 miles south of Hoover Dam and 45 miles north of Kingman, on the west side of highway US-93. It is technically visible from the Hoover Dam area but only at specific vantage points and knowing exactly where to look. More than likely the Hoover Dam itself and the amazing new construction of the US-93 bypass bridge will attract your attention rather than some far-off indistinct point. Although a nice-looking peak, Mount Perkins does not have the grandeur of nearby Mount Tipton, the biggest and most prominent peak in this region. Also, Perkins is set somewhat behind a smaller foreground range that seems to hide, or dilute, the true prominence of the summit. Actual information on hiking the peak was non-existent, and details on the roads in were very scant. I was suspicious why so little information was available for this peak, which led me to assume there are probably good reasons no one climbs it, like private property, locked gates or bad roads.

In reality I had not even planned for this peak at all for the immediate future, given its distance from home and my unwillingness to drive 250+ miles only to find locked gates or something similar (this was a case where I really wanted some assurance I had at least a non-trivial chance at success, given the costs of gas and the time commitment, before I set out). However, I was on a loop-journey for the holidays, driving out to California to visit my brother and his family (along the way I hiked Orocopia Mountain), then up to the Las Vegas area for a couple days with my folks. Seeing as I would be going back home via US-93, I decided to give Mount Perkins a decent scouting mission, not really expecting to hike the peak at all. I figured I could get some good information for a more formal trip up this way in the future.

I left early from my folks' place in Henderson and got over the Hoover Dam before the traffic started to build. My early start worked well as I just had one other vehicle ahead of me. I've driven over the dam at least 40 times over the years and it just doesn't have the appeal it once did, although I admit it is a remarkable piece of engineering and well worth a visit. The tour into the insides is worth the time and money. In recent years I have been transfixed by the building of the arch-span for the future US-93 bypass. On this visit they had just strung cabling across the chasm to begin the long process of building the actual arch. The road to the Dam will remain but only as a side-road for tourists exclusively.

Once past the Hoover Dam I drove southeasterly along US-93 for the scenic 18 miles to where the road finally opens up again to a divided four-lane highway (I know the 18-mile milepost by heart!). From here it was another 13 or so miles south to the general area approaching Mount Perkins. I had maps for a number of roads that seemed to head to Mount Perkins, so started trying the various roads, starting with a "major" access road opposite the main route that heads east to the old ghost-town of White Hills. This access road bypassed some homesteads but it was quickly apparent the roads on the maps and the roads on the ground here did not match. Obviously a lot of recent new grading for the homesteads (which range from kind-of nice to downright scary). I egressed back to US-93 and tried plan B, which was to follow the service road that parallels a set of major power lines that run across US-93 just north of milepost 31. I was unsure of this road's quality and even if I could access it. The gate for this road is directly below the power lines and very indistinct (probably deliberately so). It's just a wire-stick gate with a small sign asking to close it afterwards, but nothing saying "keep out". This was promising.

I drove westerly on the power line access road. The road was a bit rocky but decent: the recent storms left the road's tread moist but not sticky or clingy. After about 1.8 miles, the road makes a left dog-leg under the powerlines, then comes to a fenceline and junction, with an old gate just strewn aside in the brush nearby. I went left onto the new road, now traveling south. Mount Perkins was directly ahead of me, shrouded in snow. The road's quality stayed tolerable, a bit rocky where it crossed some broad arroyos, but never very bad at all. After a couple more miles I passed some mining claims and a few signs warning about falling in. The road improved a little I thought, losing the rocks and now just a good hard-pack. The gradient was so slight and steady that it didn't feel like I was gaining any elevation at all until I looked back to see I had actually gained quite a bit of elevation, perhaps a thousand feet! Roughly 7.5-8 miles in from US-93, the road starts to hug the actual hillsides of this little range and it gets a little steep with some rocks strewn in the roadway. I chose to park in a clearing at 4,400 feet, stopping short of the road's end at some towers about a half-mile further. The road didn't look too bad to the towers, but where I stopped only added maybe a mile to the whole trip and gave me about an even thousand feet of gain to the top.

The weather was cool and brisk. A fairly large winter storm had blown through a few days earlier, but today was clear and gorgeous. There was patchy snow on the hillsides above my truck. From a distance, the actual summit seemed to be covered over pretty good with snow. I packed light, but did toss in my snowshoes "just in case". From my truck I walekd the road toward the towers, but left the road when I spied a path that barged steeply up a slope to gain the ridge just southeast of the towers (so I never actually hiked to the towers). I continued up a set of old jeep/ATV tracks up another slope toward a rocky pinnacle and surmounting this, could see the summit and the rest of the ridge I would follw to gain the top. It looked friendly. Big rocky outcrops seemed to be spaced evenly along the route, while the snow was not an issue yet.

I walked along the ridge toward the rock pinnacles. Paths skirt these pinnacles and the climbing is trivial: at worst using the hands once or twice to hoist up or down some rock steps. So it went for this stretch: ridge, rock pinnacle, ridge, another rock pinnacle, ridge ... you get the idea. The snow started to get thicker the closer I got to the top. One last pinnacle stood in the way. I went left (northish) but the snow was actually kind of icy here so I turned around and decided to go around the back-side (in dry conditions I think the north side is the proper way to go). Around the backside the ground had less snow but it was frozen in places. I traversed a slope then worked my way up a gully, gaining about 40 feet to the rocks at its crest. I found a very convenient ramp that brought me out of the gully and back onto the range crest. From here the summit was maybe a quarter-mile away but obstacle-free. I went up another slope, past one more very simple rock section, then came upon the buildings and solar-panels set atop the peak. The true summit lies a short ways beyond, marked by a large rock cairn and mailbox.

I spent about 20 minutes up top, admiring the views. The best views were down west a full 4,000+ feet into the Colorado River Valley, and then across into Nevada and some peaks in California. I could make out the Spirit, Kingston and McCullough Ranges easy, and even the snow-capped Charleston Summit way off to the northwest. To the east I could make out US-93 down below and big Mount Tipton directly across. The ridges were very pretty especially from the south and west, and the snow made for a pretty sight, too. The log(s) had no signatures for all of 2007, the most recent being some Mohave Sheriff’s employees who helicoptered up here in September 2006 to check their repeater box. Some signatures went back over 25 years. Not too many people climb this peak, which surprised me given how easy it turned out to be. Of more immediate concern was the cool brisk air and the breeze that was cooling me down uncomfortably, so I got moving. It had taken me about 90 minutes to make the summit from my truck.

The hike down went very quickly and I was able to remember my route down the chute. Once past that I almost jog-walked the remainder, taking time for photographs and admiring the views. I was back to my truck in less than an hour, not unreasonable given I probably only hiked a mile and a half each way. Back at my truck I was surprised to see another truck rumbling up the road. It was an Arizona Fish & Game biologist (presumably). She was real sweet and genuinely surprised to see anyone up here. She was up here to track a herd of bighorn, and said I was the first person she’d ever seen up here. I asked if the land is closed to the public and she said not at all. Just no one comes up here ever. We talked for a few minutes. I changed into dry clothes and made the 8-mile drive back to US-93. including drive times the entire journey took just under 4 hours. I was very pleasantly surprised to have done this peak in what was supposed to have been a scouting mission. I was in Kingman by 2-ish, getting gas, then from there I made the long scenic drive down US-93 all the way into Phoenix, just in time for late-day traffic.

I can only assume the reason more people don’t hike this fairly simple peak is its remoteness, lack of "flair", and most likely, a very unclear road net (and access point) leading to the peak. Those without any maps who want to hike this peak on the spur of the moment would be hard-pressed to know where to exit off the highway. Otherwise, there is nothing barring anyone from a fun short half-day adventure up here. Just beware the mines.