There was a good chance of rain this weekend and, just like last weekend, I went to Nine Mile Canyon where there’s paved road access and hiked up a ridge with basically no risk of flash flooding. And just like that previous trip I was stymied by some tough climbs and didn’t reach my intended goals. I drove there in the dark and started hiking just as the sun was rising. On my way up to the ridge I stopped to look at some pit houses on a bench above the floodplain.
Just before sunrise
First light on the tops of the cliffs
Nine Mile Canyon Road
Fremont Village sign
Pit house wall
Pit house
Large boulder at the village
From there I followed some faint game trails to the top of the ridgeline. A rainbow appeared over Nine Mile but there were no rain clouds that I could see. Then some darker clouds began to appear over the ridge above me, so I assume raindrops were blowing in from that storm. Often a trail would peter out and I’d have to climb straight up the loose and rocky slope until I encountered another before finally getting to the crest of the ridge. Here the top of the ridge was pretty flat and I walked down it to a rocky point before turning around and continuing the ascent.
View up to the ridge (left)
Rainbow
Dark clouds moving in
Very faint game trail
View down the ridgeline
View up the ridgeline
Above a rocky point
View up Cottonwood Canyon
Cottonwood Canyon Road
As I climbed, the clouds got darker and it started to lightly rain. The wind was gusting along the top of the ridge so I found a big pinyon pine on the leeward side under which to shelter. I put on my rain jacket and had a snack while waiting out the storm. I stood up to look over the other side of the ridge to see if the storm was dissipating and ended up dropping my camera (in its case) and just watched helplessly as it rolled down the steep hillside and over a cliff! I was far enough back from the top of the cliff that I couldn’t see over the edge and didn’t know whether the camera stopped at the bottom or just kept rolling, and I couldn’t even tell how tall the cliff was. I really didn’t want to go down there looking for the camera but I had to. Off to one side there were some ledges I scrambled down to get below the cliff, which I could see was maybe 20 feet high. I couldn’t find the camera at the bottom so I kept descending, and there it was! A tiny tree branch is all that was keeping it from tumbling further down. I’d estimate that it fell over 100 vertical feet, but I pulled the camera out of the case and it still worked perfectly!
View up Nine Mile Canyon
View down Nine Mile Canyon
Panorama from the ridge
Storm clouds
Where the camera came to rest
The camera fell from above that cliff
Sheltered spot beneath a pinyon pine
I climbed back up and sat down under my tree, immensely relieved that I found the camera unscathed. The storm passed over, the sun came out, and I resumed the ascent. I was now nearing a butte on the ridge that has a circular rock structure on top that I’d seen in this Facebook photo. The structure is certainly not very impressive compared to most others in the area–it’s difficult to even make out in the photo, let alone satellite imagery–but it’s definitely manmade and I felt it was worth seeing in person. There was another butte on an adjacent ridge that in 2022 I had seen from below and it looked like there were some human-stacked rocks on top, but when I got high enough to see the top it appeared that the rock placement was all natural. I got to the base of the butte with the circle on top and at first went around it to the right. That side slanted so sharply to one side that I wasn’t comfortable with it so I went back to the point of the ridge and tried the left side, which was much easier. I then went almost all the way around the ridge back to the other side where I found the only weakness in the cliffs surrounding it. The climb looked a little sketchy but I think it was within my abilities. However, I didn’t like the exposure. If I slipped there was no flat ground at the base of the ledges for a graceful landing and I would probably tumble a long way like my camera did.
View up Nine Mile after the storm passed
Sunny view up the ridge
View down Nine Mile as the storm recedes
Butte with a ruin on top
Butte on a ridgeline (2022 photo)
Possible stacked rocks on top? (2022 photo)
Butte without a ruin on top
Butte without a ruin on top
Down-ridge view
Too steep and loose a slope on the right side
An easier route around the butte on the left
Almost to the saddle above the butte
Steep side of the butte
Other side of the butte
This climb was not for me
My next objective was simply to reach the top of the ridge. At the top is a mesa where a short walk would give me a good view into Dry Canyon. I reached the base of the last cliff band, just below the mesa, and again went to my right to look for a way up. And again I was denied. The few places to climb up looked like they might be doable but the sloping ground below gave me pause. They may not look too bad in the photos but after having taken one small risk after another all the way up this ridge, I wasn’t willing to make even a slightly riskier climb. I returned to the point and looked at the left side, which looked marginally better, but I’d reached my firm turnaround time of noon–the weather forecast called for a significantly increased potential for rain starting at 3:00 PM and I wanted to be back to the truck well before then.
View farther up the ridge
Looking back at the butte
Skirting the right side of the ridgeline
Lion
M.B. 1996
Last cliff band!
More difficult climb than it looks
As close as I got to the top
It took about two hours to return to the road, making my total time seven hours and covering barely four miles. I’m glad I finished when I did because during the drive home it rained heavily, turning every little dry wash into a flowing torrent. It was particularly bad along Soldier Creek but that storm was making its way east into Nine Mile as I was heading out.
Game trail on the descent
Almost back to the road
Photo Gallery: FV Ridge