El Centinela ("The Sentinel") is a large desert summit rising abruptly from the flat deserts of the Imperial Valley. Although Centinela is visible from just about everywhere in southern Imperial County, the peak is actually located just south of the border inside Mexico, about 10 miles west of Mexicali (on the United States side, Centinela is called Mount Signal). El Centinela looks like a big pyramid from the U.S. side, but has a longer, broader north-south profile when viewed from the east or west. It is the northernmost extension of the Cucapa Range, but “alone” enough to have significant prominence of 2,165 feet. This is interesting given the summit is only at 2,500 feet, but keep in mind: the desert flats surrounding Centinela at sea level, or below sea level in some areas. Despite its modest summit elevation, it is a very impressive peak to view, and seemingly out of place amid the flat deserts and farmlands of this region. The peak is devoid of any significant plant growth. A few ocotillo and creosote, plus some low grassy shrubs, sprinkle the slopes, giving the peak a much more stark appearance compared to other desert summits in the region.

I have known about El Centinela for some time, having driven through the Imperial Valley many times over the years. On one of our Anza-Borrego trips, Beth and I detoured off of Interstate-8 and followed state route CA-98, which parallels the border for about 30 miles, running through Calexico and west past the farms and into the Yuha Desert. I wanted to “inspect” this mountain up close, mainly out of curiosity. On the American side, there are a few shuttered buildings with the name “Mt. Signal” on them, giving me a lead on its name. It was obvious the peak was inside Mexico, not on the U.S. side as I first assumed. I did some internet research to learn more about this peak, and if it could be climbed. This led me to this informative page, written by Dr. Brian McNeese, a professor at Imperial Valley College in El Centro who has ventured onto Centinela many times, with about 20 ascents over the years. I emailed him about two years ago of my interest and he kept me in the loop should another trip be planned, which leads us to this hike.

The timing was ideal: the semester had just ended at ASU, and this time of year would be best, given it’s insanely hot most other times of the year. Scott Casterlin joined me, we being the “Arizona” contingent of the group, which consisted of 11 people: Dr McNeese and his family, plus some of his friends, all of whom live in the Imperial Valley. A few had climbed Centinela previously, but most of us had not. I was most happy to be included in this group, going with people who had familiarity with the Mexicali area, who spoke the language and who knew their way around the area. These logistical facts would be hard to come by on my own. Casterlin and I left my place in Scottsdale at 9:30 p.m. the night before, driving through Yuma and into the Algodones Dunes area, looking for a place to car-camp for the night. We found a spot north off of Ogilby Road and Ted Kipf Road, a lonely pullout in the sandy desert. Although it was midnight or so when we rolled in, a mostly-full moon illuminated the area nicely.

We got moving early the next morning, driving into Holtville to meet up with Ralph S. at his farm, where we parked and would ride with Ralph to meet everyone in Calexico. Ralph’s a third-generation farmer in Holtville and a really nice fellow. We met the rest of the gang in Calexico, then drove over the line into Mexicali. The streets were mostly vacant on the Mexican side, and we convoyed through the streets to get onto the main route, Mexican Rte-2, which heads out of town west toward Tijuana. (I couldn’t even begin to name what roads we took to get onto Rte-2.) Along the way we stopped for tacos at a road-side stand—I kept a couple tightly wrapped for a summit lunch later in the day. About 7 miles west of the border crossing, we turned north onto a side road near the “Karne” stockyard, now paralleling the main hulk of Centinela. The air was slightly foggy, with Centinela’s summit rising above the mist. About three miles along this road, we went left at a T-junction, with the American border just 50 or so feet north of us. This road leads to a pumping station for a water aqueduct. Big blue tubes run up the slopes to a big tank on the northeast ridge of Centinela. Following Brian, we now drove along dirt roads past this plant, coming to a group of Mexican military, who apparently encamp here regularly to keep an eye on border crossers and other nefarious activities. Brian and some of the others engaged these guys and we got permission to drive past and up a rough 4-wheel drive road to the big tank, where we parked. This cut off maybe a mile of hiking each way, and 400 feet. After some time getting ready, we started the hike at 8:30 a.m., in cool, humid weather.

The hike follows a beaten path for most of the way to the summit, but it is consistently steep with three or four sections of sustained class-2 rock scrambling and other sections of loose gravelly dirt on steep slope. We got moving up a path from our parking area, gaining onto the spine of this northeast ridge. Here, the going was easy, but soon we came upon the first main obstacle, a series of rock outcrops (Brian calls them the “stegosaurus”). A couple of spots narrow to a true knife-edge, with maybe a foot of actual room, while another spot requires a short traverse over a big drop-off. However, the rock is solid here and we all got past it without any dramas. After a few more yards, the trail comes to a small saddle below a steep slope. Some of us went straight up the slope, others (including me) went left along a rough path and up a more lenient slope, albeit with looser rubble. From here we reconvened and hiked up the path steeply upwards, aiming for a hilltop.

Past this hilltop the trail drops about 150 feet to another saddle. It’s also here that the first false summit comes into view, notable for its antennae. Three trails go up from this saddle. We chose the middle one that goes kind of steeply up a nearby hill (for the record, the right trail also works but is longer albeit with a lesser gradient, while the left-most trail seems to end halfway up the hillside). This segment put us onto the west-facing slopes of Centinela, in a big bowl formed by a couple of ridges. The main ridge was to our left, while a gentler ridge went to our right. Again, trails exist for both options, and the team split again. Ralph, Casterlin and I went right up this gentler ridge, but then had to battle a very steep gully strewn with big talus to gain onto the main ridge. Some of the others went up the main ridge, whose main obstacles were big rock outcrops. A few tried one way, then opted for the other. We all reconvened on top this main ridge, now directly below the first false summit, the one with the antennae. We had been hiking now for two hours, making very good time.

The path continues up past this false summit, sidehills a small ways, then the second false summit comes into view, but with a steep rocky drop to a saddle and very rocky ascent to this second summit. Brian assured us “40 more minutes”, and it was never as bad as it looked from a distance. The path petered out in the rocks, and we clambered up steep rock slopes, mostly set solid, but a few places where rock was very loose. A big magnitude-7 quake from last March seemed to knock some rocks down in a lot of spots. Signs of recent rockfall were evident, and some of the people who’d been up here before commented on these new “soft” spots. The group split into small teams and we strung out slightly, with Brian assuring us “40 more minutes” a few more times. After the rocky ridge, the trail comes up over the second false summit, on which sits a small cross. Fortunately, the actual highpoint is just a few more yards south, requiring a drop of maybe 30 feet to a lowpoint, then up to the top. And Brian was right—40 minutes from the first false summit, and we were here! It had been a grueling hike, but somewhat surprisingly we had all made it in about 2 hours, 40 minutes.

We all sat and had a restful break and lunch atop the broad summit. I had my tacos for my lunch. The summit features a big cross and some artful graffiti painted on some rocks, put on by the peak’s most famous climber, Sr. Tiznada. To the south were the rest of the Cucapah Mountains, and a big salt pan (Laguna de Salada) to its west. A big wall of peaks rose up directly west, and way off to the southwest we could see the profile of Picacho del Diablo, the highest summit on the Baja California peninsula. Looking north we could see desert, farms and peaks inside California, but the low haze obscured the Salton Sea. Looking east we could see some more desert and farm fields, but the main part of Mexicali was hidden beneath the mist and haze cover. We took some group photographs, and after about 30 minutes, started the walk down.

Back at the second false summit, we walked over to the smaller cross and walked the area, getting some more photos and neat views in the process. I have to admit that after viewing this second false summit from the true summit, I couldn’t be sure which summit was the highest, so in visiting both we covered ourselves should this ever become an issue. We crossed that rocky ridge back to the first (antenna) false summit, reconvened, then all of us went down the main ridge where some of us, including me, had bypassed it coming up. It went well, and getting through the rocks wasn’t too bad, but we had the advantage of seeing ways through the rocks from above that would have been difficult to see coming up. We would string out again on the easy parts, reconvene at the saddles, then spread out again as we all made our ways down. The “stegosaurus” section wasn’t too bad but it took some time to get past. We all arrived back to the cars around 2:30 p.m., where we each enjoyed a cerveza and some time relaxing. The hike had taken just under 6 hours, but all of us were pretty sore afterwards. It was a well-earned peak.

We rumbled back down the road, said adios to the military guys who were taking it easy for the time being. We could see some American B.P. vehicles just a few hundred yards north. I would imagine the fun stuff doesn’t happen until nightfall. We rolled back into Mexicali, where we all had a post-hike dinner at a Chinese restaurant. This place was huge and packed! (Apparently, there is a significant Chinese population in Mexicali, partly a result of some onerous American immigration policies from the early 20th-century, where the Chinese were essentially forced to leave, many taking up residence in Mexico. I had not known this until before this trip. The more things change, the more they stay the same, I guess.) I also enjoyed the drive through Mexicali, this being my first time here. A common theme in Mexican cities is the incredible mish-mash of buildings, some very modern, some very old, some spit-shine clean, some covered in graffiti, and signs everywhere! Big, colorful billboards and business signs in every direction. It is a visual overload, but fascinating.

Here we said our goodbyes. Ralph drove Casterlin and I to the eastern “Garita 2” (Gate 2) border crossing, bypassing the insane lines at the main Mexicali-Calexico crossing. Finding this crossing was a little tricky since the signs in town don’t always mention where to go, but Ralph figured it out. He has a special pass that allows him to bypass the lines, which were lengthy here, too. Instead of waiting upwards of two hours in line, he went right up to the crossing. Casterlin and I had to exit and go through the walk-through customs, where they scanned our passports and asked us a few questions. The whole crossing took maybe 20 minutes. Not too bad at all! Ralph then picked us up again, and we drove back to his farm nearby, where we said our goodbyes. Casterlin and I then piled into my truck and we made the 4-hour drive back to Scottsdale, arriving about 10:30 p.m.

The whole journey had gone extremely well, and I cannot thank Brian, Ralph and everyone enough for their kindness and knowledge that made the logistics of getting into (and out of) Mexico, getting to the peak, getting past the military guys, and knowing the route, so much simpler than had I gone by myself. Every single person was cool, patient, and friendly. For a group of 11, there was no discord whatsoever, and they were very kind to us Arizona strangers. It was a truly fun day’s journey and great way to get another neat Mexican summit. I deeply thank Brian for his organization of the hike, and Ralph for driving us over, and everyone else for their great camaraderie.