Hiking Humphreys Peak, the ceiling of Arizona

Follow me on InstagramFacebookTiktok, or YouTube

Look up! Notable night sky events this week…

  • Comet Lemmon (C/2025 A6) is still visible after sunset. Find the star ARCTURUS and locate it high to the west-southwest. Phone exposures and binoculars will aid viewing.
  • Tonight’s Full Moon is a SUPERMOON. The Moon was perfectly full at 8:22am MST, so will be slightly past full after sunset. It was about 221,817 miles from Earth at 100% illumination, making it about 14% larger and 30% brighter than an average Full Moon.
  • The Northern and Southern TAURID METEOR SHOWER is currently active. At stargazing tours the past few days, we’ve been seeing 8-15 meteors per hour. Keep your eyes up through mid-November!
A scenic view from a mountain peak overlooking a valley and distant hills, with blue skies and wispy clouds above.
Looking south from 12,000 feet elevation, 3/4 of a mile off the ground

Hiking Humphrey Peak Stats

Start Time: 12:20pm MST

End Time: 7:48pm MST

  • 5.5 miles from trailhead to peak; 11 miles total
  • 3,400 feet elevation gain one-way; 6,800 feet up and down
  • 4.5 hours one-way with stops; 7.5 hours roundtrip (40% in darkness)

What I packed

  • Hiking boots with ankle support
  • Alpaca wool socks
  • T-shirt, UV reflective overshirt, sweatshirt, jeans, cotton beanie, cotton gloves, polarized sunglasses
  • Lunch: turkey/cheese sandwiches, chips, granola, fruit bar, Nature Valley grain bar, water, electrolytes, hot coffee

Plans on a Whim

I’m coming to the (supposed) end of my time here in Arizona for the year, with plans to head north to Montana, west to Seattle, and south to San Diego over the next month, reaching San Diego in early- to mid-December.

I may also stay in Arizona and go down to Tempe. I’m wingin’ it here.

In any case, particularly as cold temperatures set in, I knew I wanted to get in another big hike before winter’s grip took hold at higher elevations. A friend also said they’d been wanting to do this hike for several years, and with that, the plans were made.

Always start with a setback

In my adult life, I’ve never hiked a 12k-er, much less a 13 or 14k-er. Plus, it’s been a while since I’ve needed to break out my cold-weather hiking gear, which I would wear while camping in northern latitudes and higher altitudes over the summer.

But…

In my heart, I knew I was in trouble. You see, in the nearly six months of driving, the storage bag on top of my van has developed some rips (which I’ve attempted to patch) but water does still manage to leak in. Though it hasn’t rained in weeks, I didn’t exactly wash and dry my hiking gear from the last time. Aaaaaaand yep.

Wet and smelling of light mold. Eesh.

(don’t worry, as I write this, I’m in a laundromat thoroughly washing them)

So all I had was my jeans, light layer, and sweatshirt. Not the worst combo for cold weather, but doesn’t exactly wick away sweat.

Totally my fault. Totally something I could have avoided. So I had to get over it, lace up my boots, and set off up the trail.

A GPS map showing the hiking route taken to Humphrey Peak, with a green path marking the trail and blue path indicating the starting point.
My hiking route up to the peak; I did not record on the way down to conserve battery

The first 4 miles

The start of the trail is fairly flat, coming right off the parking and through a field across one of the ski slopes, then entering the forest. Being early November, the aspens have dropped their confetti, leaving only the white bark and bare branches until you reach the thicker evergreens deeper in.

The first 3.5 miles of the uphill hike contain seven true switchbacks and four false switchbacks. View-wise, you’re mostly contained in the forest, with some brief gaps that look out over the landscape or the edge of a ski run. The view doesn’t open fully until you reach the saddle at the 4-mile mark, at which point you have left the tree line and will encounter only a few other trees for the remainder of the hike.

The view from the saddle provides a straight east-to-west sight, with the western slopes below you and the eastern valley of the San Francisco Peaks cradling the eastern side. From here, you have your first view of Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument, and ancient volcanic field called “Palatsmo” (Red Hill) in Hopi and “Dził Bílátah Łitsooí” (Yellow-Tipped Mountain) in Navajo.

A panoramic view from a mountain saddle overlooking a valley with green trees and distant mountains under a partly cloudy sky.
Looking east off the saddle at the 4-mile mark

The final 1.5 miles

After leaving the saddle, you’ll want to head left (north). There is a sign to direct you here.

I was starting to feel the altitude around 11,000 feet. The saddle sits somewhere around 12,000 feet. From this point forward, I felt my body becoming more sluggish. My brain was fine, I could process thoughts clearly. It was a combination of elevation, near-freezing temperatures, and intense winds (sustained 20 mph, gusts around 30 mph) that made moving slow here.

Upon leaving the saddle, you enter one more stretch of trees, then you enter tundra. Humphrey Peak contains 4 of the 6 life zones (the San Francisco Peaks sit above Zones 1 & 2). Above the saddle, you are in the region’s Alpine Tundra Zone, the final classified life zone. There are no more trees, no more large shrubs, and an abundance of lichen and small plants growing on and between rocks.

From the saddle to Humphrey Peak, there was not such a difference in elevation that breathing became any more difficult. I’d say the hardest oxygen change occurred below the tree line. However, the oxygen here is much better than at 13-14,000 feet.

A rugged mountain landscape with a rocky slope rising towards the peak under a partly cloudy blue sky.
The second of two false peaks before you reach Humphrey Peak

For this final stretch covering about 1.5 miles, you will be scrambling and walking over rocks and boulders, using distant trail posts as your guide forward. It wasn’t difficult, just slower-going than the previous four miles.

After cresting the second false peak…you see it. Up ahead, a series of posts mark Humphreys Peak. The final ascent steepens to a 10% grade but only takes about two minutes to climb.

And then you’re there, looking out over what seems to be the entirety of Arizona and parts of Utah.

The landscape beyond

Summit view from Humphrey Peak, with a signpost indicating distances to notable landmarks like Grand Canyon North Rim and Monument Valley.
View from the peak. I added distant landmarks

The easiest feature that catches your eye immediately is the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, only 60 miles away. From the ground, it’s difficult to see just how high the north rim rises over the south rim, but from atop Humphreys Peak, the 1,000 foot difference is clear to the naked eye. The Kaibab Plateau towers above the south rim.

To the right side, you can see the Vermillion Cliffs 97 miles away, and beside those, the red line of the Echo Cliffs extend backward to Antelope Pass 90 miles away. Antelope Pass is the path to Page, Arizona, on the Utah border.

Further to the right, rising dark against the hazy horizon, is Henrys Mountain, near my favorite place in the whole country, Hanksville, Utah. Henrys Mountain is 188 miles north of Humphreys Peak, and Hanksville lies beyond it.

This last feature took some time to distinguish with the naked eye, but you can definitely see Monument Valley 140 miles away. I think being atop the peak at sunset helped, because I could see individual shadows on the landscape that helped me find the exact area. Were I there in the middle of the day with minimal shadows, I don’t know that Monument Valley would have been as visible.

My friend and I sat behind the rock wall and drank some water, coffee, and had the remainder of our sandwiches and other lunch food to sustain us for the journey back down.

And then the Sun set

Not wanting to hike the rockiest section in the dark, we began the trek downhill with about an hour of daylight left. Along the way, I looked to the east and saw the shadow of Humphreys Peak stretching outward into the Belt of Venus, a glorious sight to see. That was a true treat.

A panoramic view from Humphrey Peak, showcasing a sloped mountain landscape with rocky terrain and distant mountain ranges under a colorful sunset sky.
The shadow of Humphreys Peak stretching to the eastern horizon

Down, down, down we went, reaching the saddle just before sunset.

I may have taken a brief fall on some loose dirt, but didn’t get injured. My drink went flying though, but fortunately stopped where we could reach it.

We descended into the tree line, where the light darkened a little quicker, but being on the western slopes, we hiked down a descent ways before true darkness took hold, as the Moon hadn’t yet risen above the mountain ridge for extra light. The trees also provided insulation from the cold, and as we descended, we even remarked about how the extra layers felt too warm compared to at the peak.

A vibrant sunset view from a mountain, featuring silhouetted trees and colorful sky hues of orange, pink, and purple.
Sunset on the western slope

As darkness settled, we had to use flashlights to see. The trail is NOT flat. Roots and rocks and boulders and steps down are abundant, so in the dark, you have to go slow for safety. In daylight, we probably could have gotten down in less than two hours, but it took us three in the dark.

We weren’t the only people on the mountain; two others were still up at the peak, we came across their friends a little ways down the mountain, and a third couple, we passed about 1 mile from the end of the trail.

All of that is to say, there were plenty of other people in the area who could help if anything happened to us or others.

Nearer the bottom, the moonlight crested the mountain ridge, providing more natural light to see by, and when we reentered the aspen forest at the very end, the white bark shone in the moonlight.

Tall aspen trees with white bark and dark coniferous trees against a night sky.
Aspens in the moonlight

Once we cleared the edge of the forest, the Moon was bright enough to see the trail by. Another quarter-mile, and we were back at my van. Though I had shaky legs, I ate a bag of chips to kick the light nausea that was taking me a little further up the trail, likely from sodium deficiency. Otherwise, we were both fine and ready to get off our feet.

Roundtrip, this hike was 11 miles, 7.5 hours, and 6,800 feet up and back down. It is challenging, and you will want to be conditioned for steep ascents and reduced oxygen. Know the conditions, and be prepared for the weather. Hiking boots, not trail runners, would be my recommendation, as it is definitely possible to twist an ankle in the final two miles as you traverse rocks and boulders to the final peak.

This was the most challenging hike I’ve done in a while. Reading about other experiences, I see that weather conditions are one of the determining factors for the success of the hike. We were fortunate to have a mostly clear day with no incoming weather, and the winds were not as strong as they could have been. Temperature, though a factor, did not hinder the hike, and staying warm was fairly easy. I’d love to do this one again at sunrise and see the world waking up from this mountain.

But hey, now I can say I’ve completed my first 12k-er, and I’m looking forward to getting in shape for the next…

This world is beautiful.

Alex

Follow me on InstagramFacebookTiktok, or YouTube

Read my books

Purchase my photography prints

Request a stargazing event

Support my mission, travel, and outreach with a tip on Venmo or PayPal.

Leave a Reply

Discover more from The Hiking Astronomer

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading