The Swisshelm Mountains are located in central Cochise County in southeast Arizona, southwest of the mighty Chiricahua Range. Although the highest summit in the Swisshelms is over 2,500 feet lower than Chiricahua Peak, its dramatic profile makes it a much more visually appealing peak. The range lies on the eastern fringe of a broad valley, roughly half-way between Willcox and Douglas – about 40 miles from both cities. It’s best viewed, in my opinion, coming up from the south from Douglas, heading up highway US-191. The Swisshelms rise grandly above the desert valley bottom, with few foothills in front to mar the effect. From the west it’s nearly 3,000 unobstructed vertical feet between the desert and the summit.

I’ve been aware of the Swisshelms for some time now, mainly its location on private ranch property. I had not given them much thought to climb until last October when I was down in the region hiking up Silver Peak. After that hike, I drove south into Douglas then north toward the Swisshelms for a scouting mission. I drove north through the town of Elfrida then east on Rucker Canyon Road about a dozen miles to the start of Mountain Queen Road, coming to sign mentioning that access into the range is permitted ‘verbally’, from the landowner. Well, I assumed the landowner in question was located at the Rafter X Ranch that sits along Rucker Canyon Road at the junction with Mountain Queen Road. No one was home, though, but I felt like I had a lead. So I exited and went on my way. Once home, I drafted a request letter to the Rafter X Ranch, but could not find an address, and my letter was returned undeliverable. However, quite by random luck, a climber from New Mexico, John Hamann, contacted me about doing a few peaks in Arizona, mentioning Swisshelm as one of them. He had a lead, too, and had actually talked to the landowners. This was farther than I got, so I asked to tag along for Swisshelm, which we set for mid-December. Scott Casterlin, a long-time climbing buddy from Tucson, was also included.

I left home very early in the morning for the 120-mile drive to Tucson, planning to meet Scott and John at a Chevron off Interstate-10. From there we convoyed the 100+ miles toward the Swisshelms. We drove up Rucker Canyon Road to Mountain Queen Road, then south a couple miles into the canyons of the Swisshelm Mountains toward the Smith Ranch property. Obviously my lead was a false one – I didn’t think to drive in the road to see who lived in there. We rolled up and Mrs. Smith came to greet us. She was very friendly and sweet and we had a good 15-minute chat about the area and the history. We learned that their property includes almost all the Swisshelms and that it is one of the largest wholly owned and deeded contiguous private land tracts in the state. The land goes back seven generations in their family, too! It was utterly fascinating. She also filled us in on the sometimes troublesome encounters with border crossers who find their way onto these lands. She sounded like a thoroughly fair woman, who understands the challenges some must go through to make a living for their families, yet harbors no patience for the unlawful scoundrels who rob (and worse) the crossers and landowners and anyone else as they may see fit. The border/illegal immigration topic has taken on such a poisonous, extreme bent in the media in recent years, it’s actually so very refreshing to hear someone who lives it everyday tell about it. Like others I have talked to near the border, their views aren’t extreme – just practical. I wish them the best of luck! After our talk, we got down to business of unlocking the gate and working out where to go. She bade us farewell, and we were on our way.

From the ranch house we went south about another 4 miles along a decent ranch road through some spectacular canyons, the road often running in directly with the sandy wash bottoms. It’s apparent the roads don’t get driven much – grasses about 4 feet high were in the centers, but the conditions were not the worst I have ever driven. We bashed and bumped to the end of the road at a tank on top of a knoll, elevation 5,760 feet. The high peaks of the Swisshelms were right above us, but the actual highpoint was invisible on the ridge to our south. We finally got our stuff in order, beginning our hike at about 11 a.m. The weather was perfect: blue skies, clear, no clouds, bone dry, cool but not cold, and no wind.

There is no trail to the summit, so we opted to start hiking directly up the slope in front of our cars. We walked a flattish section of juniper, cactus and grasses before coming to the slope. The terrain steepened to meet the slope, and we trudged up this section at our own paces (me typically last). The slope wasn’t too bad, just steep and relentless for about 600 vertical feet before it moderates slightly. There were few large trees or shrubs, mostly just grass and plenty of agave, plus numerous rocky bands. Once we were all above the steepest bits, we could see our general tack and we all started to bend left (south) and sidehill toward a low spot on the ridge. John was a few hundred paces ahead, while Scott and I stayed somewhat close together, although we followed mostly our own routes. The summit was now visible, a lovely rounded massif still about a mile south. Between us and it were about 3 or 4 small false summits, which we walked up and over or sidehilled as we saw fit.

In time we were at the base of the final grade, about 250 vertical feet of grass, rock and shrub still to go. John had bounded out way ahead and made the top about 15 minutes ahead of us. I got ahead of Scott a bit, and we achieved the top roughly at the same time – only to discover there was still more walking to do! Fortunately it was just a few hundred mostly horizontal feet along the main summit ridge, the highest point (and the benchmarks and cairn) being at the south end. We could see John already there. We pulled up and all sat down around the cairn, looking over the register which held names going back 20+ years and worked out to about a half-dozen hiking teams per year. The three of us spent about 30 minutes up top, eating lunch and identifying all the surrounding peaks. Given the clear dry air, we could make out ranges well over a hundred miles away with no trouble. To the northeast were the snow-bound Chiricahuas, while due east was Animas Peak in New Mexico. Across the valley to the west we could see the Whetstone, Mule, Huachuca and Dragoon Ranges. Mount Wrightson stood tall way off on the westernmost horizon. North we could see the Dos Cabezas, and farther off, the gigantic snowy hulk of Mount Graham. To the south we had unobstructed views of the multitude of peaks in Mexico. Some day, I guess…

I could have stayed up there all day!

We finally got moving, starting the hike down. Because there were so many rocks on the whole route, we had to go roughly as fast (or slow, however you see it) going down as we did coming up. As usual John was off to the races while Scott and I strung out, me a bit ahead, Scott hobbled a bit by a bum ankle. We retraced our steps out, walking down the steep initial slope carefully – it was much less fun coming down than going up, I will say. I figured it took us about 90 minutes to egress; I had some time to change into dry clothes while Scott managed the last few feet back to the vehicles. It was about 3 p.m. when we finished, but the sun was now behind the peaks so we had lots of shade and rather cold temperatures. We convoyed out to the ranch house to say thanks and goodbye to the Smiths, and then back out to Rucker Canyon Road. John and Scott were driving back to Tucson while I was heading up to Willcox, where I was going to stay at a hotel since we were all planning to meet again the next day to tackle another peak, the Mae West Peaks in the Little Dragoons.

The day had been a perfect Arizona winter (technically, late fall) day. While the rest of the country was dealing with snow and ice storms and lake effect whatever, we had picture-perfect conditions. You couldn’t ask for anything better. Alas, I did have one very frustrating experience – I am almost certain I dropped and lost my GPS unit somewhere on the mountain. I know I had it driving in. I didn’t think to look for it driving out – it was only afterwards when I got home that I couldn’t find it. I called the hotel and they didn’t have it. Damn. The only damper to a great day. My thanks to the Smiths for their kindness and to John and Scott for being good hiking mates for the afternoon.