Date: June 18, 2016 • Elevation: 11,969 feet • Prominence: 615 feet • Distance: 10.5 miles • Time: 8 hours and 40 minutes • Gain: 3,400 feet • Conditions: Clear and warm • Teammates: Mattias Stender

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Fremont Peak is one of the main summits of the San Francisco Peaks, and is the third highest peak in Arizona, behind the state highpoint, Humphreys Peak, and nearby Agassiz Peak. Its summit elevation is 11,969 feet, just shy of the 12,000-foot barrier. But because it lies atop the main summit ridge (actually, the remnant caldera from when the mountain exploded millions of years ago), it only has a prominence of 615 feet.

I have climbed Humphreys Peak six times, the last being in 2003. I have not climbed Agassiz Peak due to it being off limits except when covered in snow. I actually had not hiked or climbed into the heart of the San Francisco Peaks since my Humphreys Peak hike in 2003. In August 2015, Mattias Stender and I teamed up to hike Fremont Peak, and possibly Doyle Peak, which is the state's 4th-highest summit.

On that hike, we got an early start, Mattias picking me up from the Denny's at the Carefree Highway and Interstate-17 at 4 a.m., then driving us to the Inner Basin Trailhead at Lockett Meadow, arriving there a little before 7 a.m.. We started hiking at 7 a.m., following the Inner Basin Trail up through a thick forest of aspen, then following a road past a handful of buildings which house wells and machinery that are part of the Flagstaff watershed. There is a spigot here, and when we were here, it was dripping. A number of hummingbirds were flitting around the spigot, getting a free drink of water.

We then hiked higher into the Inner Basin itself, where the valley widens. Up here, the road goes up a meadow, with ponderosa forest on either side. The big 11,000 and 12,000-foot peaks form a three-sided cirque. From one's left looking upward, the peaks are Doyle, Fremont, Agassiz, Humphreys, Abineau and Rees. The views were marvelous. The day so far was cool but humid. This being thunderstorm season, we could expect clouds about noon and maybe a storm in the afternoon. We figured we were safe for at least three or four more hours.

We continued up the old road, which degenerates into a rocky trail, entering into the forest and starting up a series of switchbacks. In time, the trail meets the Weatherford Trail, elevation approximately 10,900 feet. To here, we had hiked four miles (going by the signs) and had gained about 2,300 feet in about 90 minutes. We were immediately below the northwest flank of Fremont Peak.

We went left (east) on the Weatherford Trail. It traverses below Fremont Peak, losing about 150 feet in elevation and cutting across a couple of long scree runouts. As the trail comes near Doyle Saddle, which separates Doyle and Fremont Peaks, it gains about a hundred feet. The saddle is wide and lovely, with some shade trees and ideal sitting rocks.

By now, not yet 9 a.m., we were a little concerned that the clouds seem to be building in abundance. They were amassing mainly over the north arm of the caldera rim, from Humphreys Peak then along Abineau and Rees Peaks. Above us, we still had blue skies with sun ... and a smattering of puffy clouds.

We didn't rest; instead, we moved quickly, following a scant path into the forest abutting the east slope of Fremont Peak. Whatever sense of trail we had disappeared quickly. We kept to the ridge as best we could. The climbing was easy, but we had to wend through the trees. Soon, we encountered more rock outcrops. We then found ourselves on a steep slope, the trees thick immediately to the right (north) of the ridge, and more open to the left (south) of the ridge.

Unfortunately, the clouds were really building. The big bank of clouds over Rees and Abineau Peaks had by now formed into a proper thunderhead, with a towering top and a flat, black base. We got up about 300 vertical feet above Doyle Saddle, and we were hustling, trying to beat the storm and be down into the relative safety of the forest before the skies opened up on us.

At this point, Mattias hit a wall and needed to stop. He had pushed himself and had no choice but to rest and let his body recover. He allowed me to go on my own, but I didn't get more than 50 vertical feet above him when I saw what was ahead of me. The remaining climb was not a trivial ridge-walk. And by now, the clouds were developing directly above us. I abandoned my attempt and returned to Mattias.

Mattias was sitting on an open slope, a little discombobulated. It wasn't altitude sickness, in my opinion. But I was concerned, and after a few minutes, we started a slow walk down, hoping to get to Doyle Saddle. If he was still in the same shape at the saddle, we might have had to call in for help. But he improved so that he was moving better, the worst of his ailments now mitigated.

We then started back on the Weatherford Trail, but now we had rain and lightning. The bolts were hitting the ridges above us. Had Mattias not become briefly incapacitated, we might have foolishly continued up those ridges, only to be forced to turned around while the storm was fully active. In a way, his hitting the wall probably saved us from greater grief otherwise!

But we weren't exactly safe in our current position. The trail is mostly open here, and every few seconds we would see a bolt and hear the tremendous thunder that followed, often instantaneously. This is utterly terrifying. It would be no different than being shot at. You just hope you don t get hit.

The problem was that the trail regains that 150 feet before it meets with the Inner Basin Trail. So, when we came to the big scree slope mentioned earlier, we had a decision to make. We could bail down the slope, dropping about 500 feet in a matter of minutes. We'd be in the open while on this slope, but it seemed a better bet than staying high. So we went for it.

From afar, the slope looks vertical. Even when near it, it appears steep, but not impossible. To our pleasant relief, we found the footing to be stable for the most part. Basically, it was book-sized rocks lying atop fist-sized rocks, so we had to step deliberately. But we encountered no real troubles. We kept to the scree-tree margin, and the whole time, every few seconds, we would see/hear the lightning and thunder, zapping the whole range. And it was raining hard by now.

In about ten minutes, we had dropped many hundreds of feet, and by now were off the steepest slopes and into the trees again. While this doesn t guarantee safety from the lightning, we were now much lower and our chances of being hit were reduced considerably.

We kept descending through the forest until we came upon the trail. We then walked out. People were still hiking up here, mostly downwards, but a few brave (stupid?) people going upward. Back in the open meadow, I felt uncomfortable again about all the electricity. We just moved fast, taking no breaks. Lower down, the terrain was covered in about two inches of hail pellets. And it was only about 11 a.m. by this time.

We were back to Mattias vehicle within the hour, and drove back into Flagstaff for a lunch break. We were bummed to have failed on our attempt to reach the summit, but felt absolutely no regret in turning around. This storm was massive. By the time we were in Flagstaff, the entire San Francisco Peaks were shrouded in these cells, while Flagstaff itself was being hit by cells of rain and lightning. We had rain for most of the drive home. Today had been a particular energetic day for the monsoon. It's always a gamble when hiking during the monsoon, and we lost that gamble today, although one could argue we didn't really lose since I am here to tell you all about it. I have been hit once by lightning already and I hope to never be hit again.