The Rincon Mountains rise with dramatic prominence east of Tucson, forming what appears to be a solid fortress-like wall of rock spanning the eastern horizons, easily visible anywhere from within Tucson. The range is a block-fault uplift of bedrock, with long gentle slopes to the west and steep slopes and cliffs to the east. Over the eons, rain and other forces of erosion have etched away at the range, but the hardy granite crusts has proven relatively sturdy, maintaining the range’s overall “smooth” profile (especially as viewed from Tucson or from points south along Interstate-10). Because of the range’s smooth profile, only a few peaks stand out from a distance – the range highpoint on Mica Mountain at 8,666 feet, and Rincon Peak, at 8,482 feet. While Mica may be higher, Rincon Peak definitely has the more striking profile. From afar, Rincon appears as a noticeable point jutting above the main range crest, whereas Mica is only noticeable as the highpoint of a long hump. The Rincons are the only significant range in the state that has no road access higher up; all visitors to the heart of the range (and to the peaks) must plan for at least a very long single-day outing, or more preferable, a two- to three-day backpack endeavor. Most of the range is within the Saguaro National Park East Unit. Backpacking is allowed with the usual restrictions and fees, and there are a few high camps and perennial springs available high on the crest. Mica is almost impossible to do in a day for most mortal humans, given its distance from all trailheads (12+ miles minimum one way from any trailhead) and thus requiring an overnight, whereas Rincon can be done in a long day. Even so, Rincon’s shortest route involves 8.1 miles of one-way hiking and over 4,500 feet of gross elevation gain.

Both peaks are on my to-do list. Both are classic southern Arizona hikes. Mica Mountain has one of the largest prominence figures in the state, ranking 7th on the state list with nearly 5,000 feet of prominence above the surrounding terrain (ironically, nearby Mount Lemmon outranks Mica in this category). In fact, as of this writing I have done the top six, lacking only Mica. But Mica is a biggie and requires some logistical planning. I thought it wise to tackle Rincon first and gain a flavor of the range before trying an overnight trip in the future. Of course, Rincon has much to recommend it on its own merits, and I eagerly waited for the right combination of weather and timing to set out on a long day hike. The summer and early fall are too warm generally, while winter snow can make the route difficult and dangerous in spots. Because much of the higher trail is on east and north-facing slopes, snow may linger into late spring. Hence, late fall is the default best time to hike. Our weather had been staying fairly warm to hot, with temperatures into the mid and high 90s even into early November. However, I kept track of the weather forecasts and saw a break forthcoming. I used a three-day weekend to give Rincon a try, giving me some leeway if I needed it. I planned to drive out one day, car-camp the night, then get moving at sunrise for an all-day attempt. Knowing my usual rate on peaks of this size and length, I figured 10 hours minimum round trip. I left Chandler the day before and arrived after dark, driving north up Mescal Road (Interstate-10, exit 297) onto a gravel and dirt road entering into the Coronado National Forest toward Happy Valley. Lots of people were camping - it occured to me more than a few might be hunters - I'd better watch myself on the trails I figured. I drove in about 16 miles to a sign pointing left for Miller Canyon, then followed a side road to the right to an unused camping area beneath some large trees. I arrived about 7:30 in the evening and enjoyed the cool night air. Temperatures were still pleasant. I explored the area and ate dinner, but was crashed by 8:30 in the bed of my truck. That evening the wind kicked up pretty good, but I slept well, waking at 5 a.m. in pitch black.

I ate breakfast and got my gear in order, and waited for the sun to rise just enough to make things visible. From my campsite I drove the short bit to the trailhead and parked, starting the hike around 6:20 a.m. The first portion of the hike runs up the Miller Creek drainage. The trail is cut into the grass and low scrub lining the sandy wash, occasionally crossing the wash and starting again on the other bank. Cairns helped keep me on track when the tread got lost in the sand. I got off route once for a few minutes following a bad path, but otherwise had no trouble keeping on the trail, augmented by strategically-placed cairns and some ribbons. Shortly the land opens up again, hemmed in on the north and south by low ridges and on the west by the east face of the Rincons. The path led to a small gate/stile entrance to Saguaro National Park after 1.5 miles. I had covered this in about an hour, gaining about 300 feet. The sun was just starting to breach the hills to the east. The weather was cool and nice, and not a single cloud in the sky. At the Saguaro National Park entrance, there's a sign-in long, and I added my name. Most people were in for a few days minimum - maybe 20% were there for the day only. After the entrance, the real climbing begins in earnest.

From here it is another 2.9 miles to the range crest and the junction with the Heartbreak Ridge trail. I was now smack on the steep eastern slopes of the Rincons, a jumble of weathered rock, stone pillars, deep-cut drainages and scrub galore. Still below 5,000 feet elevation, the flora here was mostly that found in the desert, with a noticeable Chihuahuan flavor - e.g. no saguaro or ocotillo, but lots of yucca, lechuguilla and madrone. The trees were limited to scrubby manzanita and some juniper. The trail is etched into the rocks, generally working through the natural fissures and often requiring some high-stepping and minor clambering to get up some sections. It is well-cairned and easy to follow. I put my head down and marched upward, taking breaks here and there about every 20 minutes. I made dramatic gain on this section, and the views east were gorgeous - the higher I got, the more expansive my horizon. In time I had worked up over some knobs and down into the high Miller Creek drainage and headwall. Here, the trail gains at a steady grade for about a half-mile, all the while the big mass of Happy Valley Lookout Peak to my right. I surmounted a rise and was pleasantly surprised to have made the range crest so quickly. It was just before 9 a.m., and I had covered 4.4 miles (said the sign) and gained about 2,000 feet. Rincon Peak was now visible way off to the south, a beautiful fin of rock guarded by a palisade of cliffs. The morning sun was still low enough to give it a nice light, but not quite right for photographs. Between me and the summit was another 2,400 feet of elevation gain, most of it passing through forest cover. It looked straightforward - just more hiking to do, I guess. I took a long break here and had breakfast again. I was right on schedule.

The next half mile was a real treat - a gentle decline south along the Heartbreak Ridge trail. This section was through a stand of mature Ponderosa forest, with the trail a nice soft dirt bedding. I covered this bit in about 20 minutes, coming to another junction with the Rincon Peak trail. A sign said the summit was still 3.2 miles distant. At this time I heard some voices and spotted two women hiking up the other way. They had camped at the nearby backpackers campground and were headed up to the top. We had a short chat and they went on their way. I took another short break. The trail had lost about 100 feet in elevation, which felt great now... but I knew I wouldn't be feeling so chirpy about the gain in a few hours on the egress.

I started up the Rincon Peak trail toward the top. It stays level for a short bit longer, then starts up and down some small ridges and bumps, crossing a couple of drainages. Finally it works up a couple switchbacks and regains are moderate upward gradient. The large ponderosa pine forest gives way here for a thicker low covering mainly of mountain oak, madrone and some of the heftiest juniper in the state. The trees aren't high, but thick enough to block most views. Only on a few occasions could I view Rincon Peak - which was just as well because each time I did I got slightly bummed at the amount of gain I still had ahead of me. This was a case where ignorance was preferable. My immediate goal was a spot elevation of 7,330 feet near a turn in the trail. In about another hour I had covered this stretch, maybe about 1.5 miles from the lower junction. I took lots of breaks and finally decided to cache some of my extra weight from my pack, hiding it aside a big log. I took another longer break here. I was about at 7,400 feet elevation, with about another 1.5 miles to go and about 1,100 feet up. I felt good but beat. All was going as planned.

With a lighter load, I walked up more trail, which soon segues from the drier madrone/juniper forest to more big ponderosa pine. Here, the trail is rather well-defined but it is very steep. That was both good and bad news. The good news was that there was no delaying the inevitable. Every little push forward resulted in good gains upward. The bad news was it kicked my ass every step. I met another couple coming down and we had a short talk, really more an excuse for me to stop for a break. Shortly, the trail approaches more daylight, and it is evident the final portion to the top is coming near. The trail lets off at some rocky sections, generally working west and south amid big jumbled rocks covered in manzanita, oak and juniper. It zigs and zags, up and down before working its way to the top. Some parts required hands but none of it was technical - after 6+ hours of hiking I didn't want to slip up here and injure myself. Finally, at last, I came onto the rather broad summit, a flattish area about 100 feet square and marked by a gigantic triangular cairn that stood easily 6 feet tall. The two women were there, eating lunch. I walked up, said hi and sat nearby. It was 12:45 p.m. - it had taken me 6 hours and 25 minutes to cover the one-way distance. The views were unbelievable, with giant Mica Mountain to the north and hundreds of other peaks in every other direction. With no clouds and a dry day, even peaks on distant horizons were visible with definition. I had picked a good day for the climb. I signed in the log, took some photos, then after maybe 10 minutes, figured I still had a boatload of hiking to do, and started down. I was still right on schedule, but I knew it was probable I would be egressing at sunset, so I didn't want to waste any time at all.

So far I had called my times pretty accurately, and based on past experience, I figured 2 hours to get back to the saddle and the junction with the Miller Creek Trail, and another 2 hours from there back to my truck. Including some breaks, I conservatively estimated I'd be out at 5:30 p.m., which would be cutting the daylight close since it got pretty dark by 6 p.m. I had a flashlight but given the rockiness of the terrain, I didn't want to be hiking any of it in the dark if possible. Getting off-route would be very easy. The hike down from the very top back down to the 7,330-foot spot elevation, near where I stowed my extra gear, took maybe 30 minutes and went fairly quick. The downhill grade was very steep but the (mostly) solid trail made the walking easy. After repacking my pack (and bearing the extra weight) I got moving down toward the Heartbreak Ridge Trail junction, and again, this part went reasonably well, with no real trouble other than general tiredness. I took breaks and enjoyed the scenery and great weather. I eventually hit the junction, and from there hiked the extra half mile to the Miller Creek Trail junction. This was the 'easy' part coming up since it was pitched at a very lenient downhill grade. On the hike out, even this lenient grade, now uphill, was enough to slow me down. I pushed on to the Miller Creek Trail, and took a long food and drink break here, and checked my time. It was 3:10 p.m. - off by just 10 minutes! I took advantage of some better lighting for photographs. I figure I spent 10 minutes here, just enough time to let the legs get stiff. It was about this time I thought about the idea of bring up a tent and pack for the hike. I could have just fallen asleep right there.

The next half mile is contained within the upper Miller Canyon and drops at a consistent grade. I walked for another 15 minutes and sat down for a short water break. The drainage itself was below me, and on the other side was more mountain and jumbles of rocks. Amid the rocks I spied a black shape that seemed out of place. A bear? It had the right size and color and was the only plausible explanation for what it was. Daylight was still good enough so that it wasn't a trick of the light, and it was too dark to be a true shadow. It was about 150 feet line of sight across from me, but across a drainage so I wasn't terribly afraid it would bolt for me. Even so, I clapped to see if I could rouse it ... then figured I better not press my luck. If it was a bear I didn't stick around to confirm it. I think it probably was. I got up and started the descent again.

By this time the eastern slopes were all in shade, although the hills across the valley were still in the sun. I made pretty good time walking down the interminable switchbacks and turns. My legs were screaming especially when I walked on the rock. On softer dirt and sand they didn't hurt as much. I took plenty of breaks, usually for 5 minutes at a time, and made steady downward progress gauging against a small ridge across the valley that I could eyeball across. All I could think about was getting back to my truck, a warm dinner somewhere, getting home, a shower and my wife and kitties waiting for me. Otherwise I had a tune from Earth, Wind & Fire playing in a continuous loop in my head, driving me insane. In case you care, it was "In The Stone" from their I Am album from 1979. Now it's in your head!

Finally, I came upon the Saguaro National Park gate, exited, and dropped into the drainage itself. I still had a mile and a half of easy downhill on mostly soft ground and sand to go, but this went very fast and was very pleasant. It was definitely getting into the sunset by this time. I heard some noises and saw some vehicle outlines, and there they were, the cars at the trailhead. I staggered back to my truck right at 5:20 on the nose - just like I forecasted. I did a quick change into dry clothes but didn't stay long as I wanted to drive out the road to the highway in whatever daylight remained. Eleven hours on the trail, sun-up to sun-down, 16.2 miles, 4,500 feet of gross gain - now that was a full day. By the time I rolled into the TTT truck stop in Mescal on Interstate-10, it was dark, and when I got out to get some snacks I could barely walk! I drove through Tucson and had dinner at the Cracker Barrel in Casa Grande, where everyone else there was dressed in their favorite NASCAR driver/team's colors. Oh yeah, it was race week at PIR, and these were the people going home this-a-way. Dinner was good, and I was home by 10 p.m.

In retrospect, I think lugging a tent and pack actually is a better idea. I was really thrashed by the end of the hike. Spreading it out over two days seems a much wiser way to go. I'm still looking at Mica in the future and will probably approach it the same way - via Miller Creek and Heartbreak Ridge. I had a great time, learned a lot and thoroughly enjoyed the hike.