Kendrick Mountain, O'Leary Fire Lookout

09/08/26

I waited until the sun was well above the horizon before exiting the warm, condensation-slathered cocoon of my vehicle. Why? Partly because I wanted to see where I was, mostly because I wanted to rest just a few minutes more. Yesterday's excursion up to Mt. Humphreys and Mt. Elden had really done a number on the ol' legs and, surprise surprise, they didn't feel any better in the morning. If anything, they felt worse. Stiff, heavy, sore. Definitely in peak condition to climb another mountain, hahaha.

So I waited until the sun came up and I finally got a good look at the parking lot for the trailhead, something I didn't see last night on account of the pitch-black darkness. Lots of pine trees, an old wooden fence, an information sign, an outhouse, and not a single other vehicle in sight. Solitude was the word of the morning, and I was gonna enjoy every moment of it, sore legs be damned. 

Starting off on the trail

Kendrick Peak on the left

I started along the trail, the morning quiet and calm. The Indian cuisine that I had consumed last night was about to change that. Sprinted off the trail, dug the ol' cat hole, saw red for a few seconds, and then everything was back to normal, quiet morning and all.

Hopped back on the trail and simply fell into a rhythm. Legs still felt stiff as ever but the steady grade got the heart a-pumpin', providing my quads and calves with some much needed lubricant. Saw Kendrick Peak up ahead. Saw the lookout tower up there. Looked small. Looked far. No matter. Just did as I usually do and put my head down and trucked on up the trail, one switchback at a time. 

Kendrick Peak

Heading up the switchbacks, Kendrick Peak left

I eventually reached a flat area of sorts, no more up, no more switchbacks. Saw a wooden structure just off the trail, the historic Kendrick Lookout Cabin. Built in 1911, this little ol' shack has seen many visitors over the years. Not much on the inside; just a couple of tables, a ladder, a metal storage bin, and an orange register chock-full entries going all the way back to 2016. I lingered inside for a moment or two, skimming the entires, absorbing the essence of the place (and by that I mean hantavirus and a stale, woodsy aroma), and then I hopped out the door, ready to ascend the lookout tower. On my way out however, I noticed that someone had written something in faded sharpie on the top of the doorframe in tiny, scratchy letters. "The Love Shack." Hmmm. I guess this is what the B-52's were singing about all this time. 

Kendrick Lookout Cabin

Hit some more switchbacks and banged out the last little bit to the lookout tower in a huff and a screech. Sat down in the shade and nibbled on my last Clif Bar, my back soaked in sweat, my legs weary and wobbly. But I'd made it to the top and it was real neat and I climbed up the tower and took a look inside, boarded-up windows, cracked floor, scattered detritus everywhere. This thing was in much worse shape than the cabin, with an extra helping of hantavirus to boot. But at least the views were nice so I did a quick 360° around the rim of the lookout, stopping at random intervals to snap photos of the surrounding landscape.

Kendrick Peak Lookout Tower

A little worse for wear...

Nothin' but miles and miles of pine forest and ancient cinder cone volcanoes. Saw Humphreys out there, tall and prominent. Saw O'Leary Peak just to the left of it, far away and enigmatic. I still wanted to check it out later, but given my general state of lethargy, that probably wasn't gonna happen. Oh well. We'd just have to wait and see how I felt later in the day. Maybe I'd see it, maybe I wouldn't. Didn't matter. I was on top of a lookout tower rising out of a forest of green and it was awesome. Didn't think too much about the near future. Didn't wanna waste precious energy worrying about something that didn't even exist. Best to focus on what's in front of you and deal with it accordingly. 

Southeast: Humphreys Peak, O'Leary bottom left

Northeast

Southwest

Once I'd had my fill of the views, I waved goodbye to the lookout tower, flipped it a peace sign, and moseyed on down the trail. Somewhere along the way I got the idea to check out some other minor peaks that sat just off to the side, East Newman Hill and Newman Hill respectively. I'd seen 'em on the way up and they looked mildly interesting but, truth be told, they were vanity summits. Simple as that. Had no reason to climb them other than to say that I did. Very silly, I know, but at least they offered a scenic detour on my way back to the parking lot. 

Off-trail to East Newman Hill

First up was East Newman. I wandered through a vanilla-scented forest of old evergreens, slippin' and slidin' through a carpet of pine needles down a steep, shaded slope. Spooked some deer. Heard some birds. Performed a spoken-word rendition of Don McLean's "American Pie." Time passed along slowly, the seconds dripping on by like the water out of an ancient tap. 

And then I left the land of pines and wandered through the land of soft green grass, everything fresh and crisp and ever so pleasant on the olfactory system. Saw the summit. Wandered on over to the top. Oh joy. How exciting. And by exciting I mean not exciting at all. Just a grassy bump with a few pine trees and decent views of Newman Hill and Kendrick Peak. Again, this was a vanity summit, through and through. I don't see myself returning to East Newman. Not in a zillion years. 

The unassuming East Newman Hill

Kendrick Peak from East Newman

Newman Hill from East Newman

And then came the trek over to Newman Hill, another peak that I was sure to never visit again in a zillion years. It was simply something to do, a thing with which to pass the time, a grassy, pine-speckled nodule rising out of the unfathomable, incongruous crust of the Earth. Slid down more pine needles, hopped over some deadfall, performed another spoken-word rendition of "American Pie." It was something to do, and so I did it. And I hit a dirt road and crossed it and went straight up the east slope, lungs on fire, shouting on the exhale, moanin' and groanin' all the way to the top. 

An arch on the way to Newman Hill

Kendrick (left) and Humphreys (right) from Newman

Nothin' but grass and flowers on ol' Newman Hill. Very peaceful up there. Very pretty. If I had me a checkered blanket and some bread and cheese I'd have had me a dainty lil' picnic. But I lacked the food and the blanket and the daintiness, so I guess I was out of luck in that department. 

Good views of Kendrick and Humphreys from the summit, the grassy east slope strong and vibrant in the afternoon light. Really neat to see, but I doubt if I'll ever make the effort to head on up to ol' Newman again. It was a vanity summit after all,  a true "one-and done" sort of deal. And so I wandered around for a minute or two, took some photos, and then descended slightly to the southeast back to the dirt road, following it the rest of the way to the parking lot. 

Very pretty on Newman Hill

Following the dirt road to the parking lot...

There was another car in the lot, unoccupied. Must have been heading up to Kendrick Peak. Or something like that. I don't know. Sometimes people simply like drivin' out into the woods to do bugger all. Hell if I know what they were doing. Coulda been makin' stick puppets and rubbin' their bellybuttons for all I know. 

And so I hopped in my car and drove on out of there, dust flying out the back, the mysterious trailers and evidence of the huge bonfire I saw last night nowhere to be seen. Hit the blacktop, drove straight into Flagstaff, stopped at a Maverick gas station, nabbed me a buffalo chicken burrito, shoving it down my gullet while sitting in the parking lot like an absolute fiend, my clothes salty and sweat-stained and hair all greasy and crazy. 

And while I was sittin there in the parking lot, chuggin' water and washin' the gas station burrito taste off my palate, I realized I had to make a choice. Should I drive straight to O'Leary Peak, or hike a couple more vanity summits? Well, what do you think happened? 

Hikin' up a dirt road to more vanity summits...

Yep. I was in vainglorious, conceited mood, willing to push my weary legs to the brink. So I drove on over to a couple more minor bumps on the horizon, the so-called "Turkey Hills." Popular with dirt bikers, I parked my vehicle before the road got too insane, electing to jog most of the way to their summits. 

First one up was the taller, south hill. I pretty much followed a dirt road all the way to the top, the thing wrapping around the sides of the hill like the spirals in a lollipop. Got to the top, saw a bunch of tire marks in the sharp cinders. Yep. Ain't no reason to climb this here peak. Unless you really want to. 

Elden (left) and Humphreys (right) from South Turkey

North Turkey bottom left, O'Leary center on the horizon

Wanting to spare my legs from extra mileage, I boot-skied down the west slope, dodging prickly, pokey plants along the way. Hit the road yet again and followed it to the southwest slope of the north hill, not once questioning why it was that I was climbing it in the first place. Picked up a faint bike trail, following it until it disappeared entirely in the cinders and the scrub and the cactus. But no matter. It was obvious where to proceed. I slogged up the last little chunk to the summit in no time, the views exactly the same as those on the south hill. 

Heading up the north hill...

The south hill from the north hill...

Didn't linger too long up there, just enough for a cough and a burp and a sneeze (in that order). And then it was back to the boot-ski, back to gettin' cinders in my beat-up Altra's, back to dodgin' pokey plants and spookin' deer and runnin' through the woods and all that good stuff. Made it back to the car, emptied my shoes, chugged the last of my water, drove straight to Sunset Crater National Monument. Needed the refill. That's the only reason I went there, bwahahaha. 

Sunset Crater

Yep, I went through the gate, immediately stopped at the visitor center, filled up my bottles, and then turned around and drove back through the gate. The lady at the kiosk probably thought I was crazy. Or maybe she didn't even notice. How would I know? I ain't no mind reader. 

And so I drove to the trailhead for O'Leary Peak, parked the car, crossed the gate, and proceeded down the trail (which is really just a well-graded dirt road). By now the fatigue had fully caught up to me but I didn't care; I just kept on going. Hit an incline and started going up and up, waving "hi" to a dude and hus dog making their way back down. I reached a saddle of sorts, a sub peak known as "Darton Dome" rising off to the right. Ehh, what the hell. Today was a day of vanity summits. Might as well keep up the streak, you know?

O'Leary Peak (center) and Darton Dome (right)

Heading up Darton Dome...

View south from Darton Dome

O'Leary Peak from Darton Dome

So I slogged my way up to the top like the idiot I am, slippin' and slidin' in the cinders. Like all the vanity summits I'd climbed that day, Darton Dome was pretty on the eyes but uninteresting to the soul. No reason to go back whatsoever. Just a lot of snags and grass and flowers and cinders and decent views of the surrounding country. Kinda just wandered around the summit area without emotion or opinion for a minute and then set off back down to the road where I swallowed the remaining incline one step at a time.

And eventually I reached a sign and it pointed up to O'Leary Peak and I was like "Hey, that's not a vanity summit!" and so I ditched the road and followed a steep, loose use trail to the top, the only inhabitants of which were a small register and a weathered USGS benchmark. 

Heading up the use trail...

Ahh, finally, a decent summit. I saw Kendrick Peak out yonder, the sight of which filled me with a sense of mild pride and milder satisfaction. I'd done it. After all that, I'd actually done it. And it felt good. Not great, but good. Maybe it woulda felt better if I wasn't so damn tired. But good was enough and I signed the register, skimming through the scant entires. Placed in 2025, the thing hasn't seen many visitors; I'm guessing most folks skip it in favor of the lookout tower. 

The lookout tower on the left there

Humphreys dominating the view

I sat for a minute or two, meditated for a moment, and then set off towards the lookout tower. Like the one on Mt. Elden, this one was also closed to the public. No matter. Don't think I woulda had the energy to climb up the stairs anyways. I was beat. Simply sat on the bench and took a long breather, sippin' my water and eatin' the last of my food.

O'Leary Lookout Tower

Humphreys Peak...again...

There was a register chained to the bench. Like the one on O'Leary Peak, the booklet I signed was also placed in 2025, the only difference being that it had probably 800,000 more entries. Very popular spot this one is, and I can definitely see why. Dirt road all the way to the top, cool lookout tower, excellent views in all directions. What's not to love? 

And so I lingered for a while, the day almost done, my goals for the weekend pretty much met. There were a couple other summits that I didn't get to, particularly Wing Mountain and Big Williams Mountain. But those were always optional in my mind and I was glad to have climbed basically every single bump I saw on my drive into town yesterday. A rather successful weekend indeed. But it wasn't over yet. Still had to hike back to the car. Ugh. Here we go. 

Decided to run it. My legs were so done I just wanted to get it over with quick, like rippin' off a band aid on a hairy leg. And I almost ran the entire way back; used the downhill to my advantage and just coasted on down the road. But then I hit a flat spot and the downhill was no more and I was relegated a slow walk, but even that was enough to get me back to the car in good time. Holy moly roly-polie. Combined with yesterday's outing, my 2 day total ended up being 57 miles with over 15,000ft of elevation gain. Hot diggity dog. No wonder my legs wanted to kill me. 

I stretched, drank more water, drove on down the road, back to the highway, back to the desert, nothin' awaiting me save for a long drive into the long night. Drove by the Yummy Shack again. Thing was closed. Drove across the reservation, stopping for gas, the setting sun casting a shade of fire upon the red cliffs. Crossed the Colorado River, stopped at Lee's Ferry for a Gatorade and some pretzels. And the stars were out and the road was barren and I jammed out to the new Czarface album and my legs cramped up every few minutes but it was ok, they were just letting out their understandable anger. 

Got home and showered and went to bed. It had been a long couple of days, but also a very beautiful, very peaceful couple of days at that. Saw a part of Arizona I ain't never seen before. Saw some pretty mountains, vanity summits and all. Swore I'd never do anything like that again. But things never work out like that. There's just too much to see, and too little time to see it. The only way to get even the faintest taste of it all is to do as much as you can, when you can. And for me that's only two days. So of course I went all-out on my next days off, topping both this excursion to Arizona and my previous weekend on Timpanogos. But I'll have to write about that later...