Organ Needle
Yesterday we climbed the Organ Needle, the highest point in the organ range as well as southern New Mexico. I got psyched to do this when I googled upon several detailed descriptions of the walk-up route. "Walk-up" it turns out is used very loosely with these blogging mountaineer types. We were chossed out to the max when we returned home, feet sore and minds numb. This hike requires smart preparation of body, mind, and supplies. We went up with a couple apples, some energy bars, a few nalgenes of water, and a pocket full of route descriptions and pictures.
We started the hike at 8:30 am. The hike climbs an old and crappy mining road for about 2.5 miles and 1000 vertical feet. At the end of the mining road the trail proper begins. At times it is very faint. We lost it several times and had to bushwack our way back onto it. The trail is marked multiple times along the route by little stacks of rocks called "cairns." "Cairn!" became our rallying cry.
Anyways I won't bore you with detailed route descriptions. Several people have already done that on the internet, and without them we wouldn't have been able to complete the hike. Basically you have to traverse south until you hit a large wash marked by the prominent "Yellow Rocks," turn uphill east and shoot for a huge cliff called the "Gray Emminence," follow the base of the Gray Emminence through a Juniper grove which ends at a large saddle, push through bushy trail near the top until you reach the hidden mouth of Dark Canyon, ascend Dark Canyon and arrive at Dark Saddle, walk around the southwest side of the summit block, complete 20 feet of "Class 3" scrambling (which involves the need for hands as well as feet), then hike another 100 feet to the small but level summit.
In the end we hiked/climbed nearly 7 miles and more than 4000 vertical feet. Double that when counting the descent. The summit is just above 9000 feet I think. The summit took us 7 hours and the return was 3.5 hours. On the descent, we reached the beginning of the crappy mining road just as all daylight was leaving and had to finish the last 2.5 miles to the car by only starlight. That was ok because that part of the trail is wide and made of light-colored rocks. But we had a tough time finding good footing and we were both thinking of mountain lions. Turns out mountain lions don't really attack humans, that there have only been roughly 100 attacks in the last 100 years, and that most attacks are on faster-moving bikers and runners. But shit! When it's pitch black and you're chossed out on craggy ground you can't help but be aware that you're not necessarily at the top of the food chain.
We took several pictures but I hesitate to include any of them. The pictures really look like we had a grand old time, frolicking about in mountain meadows, trotting merrily up the slopes. Maybe we can chalk that up as a virtue--it doesn't matter if you win or lose, only if you look good. The reality was pain, falling, cussing, thirst, sore feet, lost trail, sweat, and all manner of pointy and prickly flora. It was also beautiful and very satisfying in an empty Zen way. One thing the pictures definitely lack is the sense of vertigo, of being vaulted above the earth. They lack the incredible sense of volume contained between and within mountain masses. They lack the sheer sense of verticality, of physically climbing up and up. The weather was very nice--slightly warm in the sun, slightly cool in the shade, and virtually no wind, absolutely no clouds, and very little noise.
These are the Organs, seen from the west, facing east. The "Needle" (it's not a needle at all) is the highest point towards the right side--the rounded summit. The hike starts at the base of the mountians near the middle of this picture (not one of ours). The v-notch just to the right of the summit is Dark Saddle, the top of the hidden Dark Canyon, which is the key to the whole route.
I can easily say this was the burliest and best hike I've ever done. Any dear readers who are thinking of visiting are strongly advised to get their thighs and ankles in shape. I think the summit can be achieved by anyone with sound health and reasonable strength. The hardest thing will be the determination to pay the price of discomfort. And now that we know the route, we can avoid some of the bushwacking that Molly and I did. If I do it again, and I'm sure I will, I think it will be necessary to camp out at the trailhead the night before. That way we can break camp and be hiking just before sunset. I think this is the only way to get back to the car with any daylight. It's much preferable to hike in darkness at the beginning instead of the end.
So this all sounds kind of humorless... maybe I'll exit with a joke just you ya'll know the mountain didn't knock the funny out of me.
Q: What do you call a blind white-tail?
A: No idea.
One more note: the kitty nabbed a mouse the other evening. I found this out because when I opened the front door, a maimed mouse came hobbling into the house. I shshed it out with some newspaper and kittles fetched it back for me. She enjoyed playing with it in her teeth and tossing it back and forth in her claws. I put it on a shovel and brought it out to the weeds. The internet says that if the cat brings wounded game to the front door, the cat has a strong sense of kinship with you. They share game with their pack leaders. Apparently I was supposed to eat it and share some with her. I gave her good praise and a treatsys instead.
We started the hike at 8:30 am. The hike climbs an old and crappy mining road for about 2.5 miles and 1000 vertical feet. At the end of the mining road the trail proper begins. At times it is very faint. We lost it several times and had to bushwack our way back onto it. The trail is marked multiple times along the route by little stacks of rocks called "cairns." "Cairn!" became our rallying cry.
Anyways I won't bore you with detailed route descriptions. Several people have already done that on the internet, and without them we wouldn't have been able to complete the hike. Basically you have to traverse south until you hit a large wash marked by the prominent "Yellow Rocks," turn uphill east and shoot for a huge cliff called the "Gray Emminence," follow the base of the Gray Emminence through a Juniper grove which ends at a large saddle, push through bushy trail near the top until you reach the hidden mouth of Dark Canyon, ascend Dark Canyon and arrive at Dark Saddle, walk around the southwest side of the summit block, complete 20 feet of "Class 3" scrambling (which involves the need for hands as well as feet), then hike another 100 feet to the small but level summit.
In the end we hiked/climbed nearly 7 miles and more than 4000 vertical feet. Double that when counting the descent. The summit is just above 9000 feet I think. The summit took us 7 hours and the return was 3.5 hours. On the descent, we reached the beginning of the crappy mining road just as all daylight was leaving and had to finish the last 2.5 miles to the car by only starlight. That was ok because that part of the trail is wide and made of light-colored rocks. But we had a tough time finding good footing and we were both thinking of mountain lions. Turns out mountain lions don't really attack humans, that there have only been roughly 100 attacks in the last 100 years, and that most attacks are on faster-moving bikers and runners. But shit! When it's pitch black and you're chossed out on craggy ground you can't help but be aware that you're not necessarily at the top of the food chain.
We took several pictures but I hesitate to include any of them. The pictures really look like we had a grand old time, frolicking about in mountain meadows, trotting merrily up the slopes. Maybe we can chalk that up as a virtue--it doesn't matter if you win or lose, only if you look good. The reality was pain, falling, cussing, thirst, sore feet, lost trail, sweat, and all manner of pointy and prickly flora. It was also beautiful and very satisfying in an empty Zen way. One thing the pictures definitely lack is the sense of vertigo, of being vaulted above the earth. They lack the incredible sense of volume contained between and within mountain masses. They lack the sheer sense of verticality, of physically climbing up and up. The weather was very nice--slightly warm in the sun, slightly cool in the shade, and virtually no wind, absolutely no clouds, and very little noise.
These are the Organs, seen from the west, facing east. The "Needle" (it's not a needle at all) is the highest point towards the right side--the rounded summit. The hike starts at the base of the mountians near the middle of this picture (not one of ours). The v-notch just to the right of the summit is Dark Saddle, the top of the hidden Dark Canyon, which is the key to the whole route.
I can easily say this was the burliest and best hike I've ever done. Any dear readers who are thinking of visiting are strongly advised to get their thighs and ankles in shape. I think the summit can be achieved by anyone with sound health and reasonable strength. The hardest thing will be the determination to pay the price of discomfort. And now that we know the route, we can avoid some of the bushwacking that Molly and I did. If I do it again, and I'm sure I will, I think it will be necessary to camp out at the trailhead the night before. That way we can break camp and be hiking just before sunset. I think this is the only way to get back to the car with any daylight. It's much preferable to hike in darkness at the beginning instead of the end.
So this all sounds kind of humorless... maybe I'll exit with a joke just you ya'll know the mountain didn't knock the funny out of me.
Q: What do you call a blind white-tail?
A: No idea.
One more note: the kitty nabbed a mouse the other evening. I found this out because when I opened the front door, a maimed mouse came hobbling into the house. I shshed it out with some newspaper and kittles fetched it back for me. She enjoyed playing with it in her teeth and tossing it back and forth in her claws. I put it on a shovel and brought it out to the weeds. The internet says that if the cat brings wounded game to the front door, the cat has a strong sense of kinship with you. They share game with their pack leaders. Apparently I was supposed to eat it and share some with her. I gave her good praise and a treatsys instead.
posted by j0eb0t-xj9 at 11:56 AM
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