30,000 feet in the air and I look down upon familiar mountains. Mountains I've looked down from whose names ring like pleasant memories: Pikes Peak, Mount Quandary, Mount Democrat, and Mount Elbert. Other mountains whose names hold the promise of future meetings: Mount Massive, Mount Lincoln and others I can't name. Early season patches of snow hide in the north facing gullies from a lingering sun.

Too soon we touch down in Las Vegas. The honest isolation of mountains and memory is replaced with the flash and salesmanship of a city that has nothing original to offer. Maybe it's my mood, but I'm sure this is the longest I've waited beside a baggage claim. My query to the car rental counter, "What's the quickest way to 93?" really means "What is the quickest way out of this city?".

Over the Hoover Dam and I'm rushing into the night as the sun sinks behind me, but leaves rocky cliffs tinged in reds as a parting gift. A late arrival into Flagstaff and after a quick shopping run I try to catch some sleep.

The morning arrives with anticipation and a cold air. I find my way up US 180, seeing the night shadow of the San Francisco peaks ahead. Then they disappear as I pull off and drive up towards the Ski Bowl parking area. I quickly lace up boots and locate the trail running north across an open ski run into the woods beyond.

Above I can see the summits of Humphreys and Agassiz Peaks. Ahead I notice diminutive mule deer picking their way down the slope and crossing the trail. I don't appear to bother them, but we all stop to watch each other in the pre-dawn light.

Before leaving the trail head I had counted the switchbacks on the trail in the lower section, before the trail takes a more direct route to the pass. So I count each of the 7 turns, right-left-right again and scare up two more mule deer. Eventually the aspens give out to the elevation, and I hope last night's stay at 7000 feet was enough acclimation to reach the summit.

Just above the seventh switchback the trail hugs the side of a gully and looking up I see Agassiz Peak in front of the dawn's brightening sky. The trees are thinning out and growing smaller as I notice the top of a chair lift at tree line across the gully on the flanks of Agassiz. First above me, then even, then below as I climb up toward the saddle and into the sunlight.

Ridge to Humphreys Peak.

Reaching the pass I take a break and admire the view below into the former volcano's crater, now an open valley. I started up again, following the trail on the west side of the ridge, running around several false summits, ducking out of the sun and then back on the ridgeline. Finally, a false summit turned true when I noticed the rock-pile wind shelter on top. While the altitude wasn't giving me a headache, nor was I breathing very hard, I was glad to see the summit finally just ahead as my legs were tiring from the long ascent and the lack of oxygen.

Summit of Humphreys Peak.

On the summit the sky remained clear, but with the exception of the nearby San Francisco Peaks, there wasn't much to look at. I think I could make out the north rim of the Grand Canyon, and parts of Flagstaff, but most of the other mountains were far distant and much lower than Humphreys. While I had the feeling of standing atop the highest mountain in a vast area, the scenery didn't seem as rewarding as the endless peaks in view from a Colorado summit.

I was pleased to find I had made the ascent in a little over 2 hours. After signing the register and a quick snack, I descended from the summit of my 43rd state. Before reaching the saddle I meet the first other hiker, on his way up. A few more just below the saddle, then increasing numbers of hikers (not all headed for the summit).

View of Humphreys Peak from the ski run.

Among my fellow hikers I noticed the same camaraderie among the early ascenders, high up on the mountain, that I had experienced on many mountains. However, the further down I went, the more I was reminded of the crowds near the base of Mount Washington - unconcerned with one another as if walking down a sidewalk in any crowded city.

View west of Humphreys Peak from the ski run.

From Flagstaff I headed north into Utah to spend a wonderful series of days at Zion and then Great Basin National Park before suffering in Vegas again. However, on the flight back home I was sure I could see the group of mountains rising high above the surrounding land and capped by Humphreys Peak.