Day One — Going Up§
Most people don't realize you can escape the Tucson heat without leaving the county. For a few years I'd half-planned trips up with friends: school, poor timing, the usual excuses always got in the way.
When my church organized a camping trip to Camp Zion, I decided it was finally time to stop planning and just drive up Mt. Lemmon.Named after Sara Plummer Lemmon, a botanist who became the first Euro-American woman to summit the peak in 1881. Her trail guide, Emerson Oliver Stratton, renamed it after her.
We left around midday. The drive north out of Tucson is flat and pretty unremarkable right up until the point it suddenly isn't.
For years, the thought of going off the side of a mountain had kept me from making the drive. I've been working through driving anxiety for a while now, and the stretches without guardrails still unsettled me, but there was only one way up.The Catalina Highway was built almost entirely by federal prison inmates between 1933 and 1950. Eighteen years, one road, 27 miles of switchbacks climbing from roughly 3,000 feet in the Tucson foothills to over 8,000 near Summerhaven.
I had a couple of friends in the car, which helped. The drive turned out to be more manageable than I'd built it up to be.
Every year, the stake holds Young Women's camp at Camp Zion, about fifteen minutes below Summerhaven. The idea was that the Young Single Adult Ward would help set up the tents (in exchange for a night of camping) and leave everything up for the campers arriving later that week.
I was asked at the last minute to be the YSA coordinator. Surprising, given I'd only been a member for a year and a half. When I pulled in around 3:20 that afternoon, I still didn't know how to set up a tent. There were wooden platforms scattered across the camp, each needing one. Eventually more people arrived and things started to come together, though the altitude made even basic tasks feel twice as hard.
From up there you could see all of Tucson spread out wide across the valley. Worth the drive.
The first thing I noticed when I got out of the car was how normal the weather felt. Tucson doesn't really have seasons: it's either unbearably hot or a slightly-too-cold 70°F that passes for winter. Up here it was just... normal. A sky island.An isolated peak rising nearly 7,000 feet above the Sonoran Desert floor. The 27-mile drive up covers roughly the same ecological range as a trip from Mexico to Canada: saguaro cactus at the base, oak woodland mid-mountain, ponderosa pine higher up, and spruce-fir near the summit.
Dinner§
Around 6:00, while everyone was resting after the tent setup, I headed out for something I'd been planning: a date up in Summerhaven.In June 2003, the Aspen Fire burned for weeks across the Santa Catalinas and destroyed roughly 340 structures in Summerhaven — most of the village. The town has been slowly rebuilding ever since.
In town we ran into a man named Bob, who ran the jewelry shop. He was friendly and quick to let us know most of Summerhaven closes early.
The only real option for dinner was Sawmill Run, right at the entrance of town, and the only place still open until 9 besides Beyond Bread. We can get Beyond Bread back in Tucson any time; this called for something better.
I went with a chorizo and bone marrow dish served with bread. None of the components were remarkable on their own. But together they made something I couldn't quite place, a flavor I genuinely hadn't had before.
Seventeen dollars, and worth it. Eating straight bone marrow was a new experience; I spent most of the meal half-convinced it was just fat.
The restaurant itself was pretty quiet by that point. A few other tables, the kitchen clanking somewhere in the back, outside getting dark.
She ordered a salad and vouched for it. By that point the chorizo was hitting me pretty hard. I was starting to see the wisdom in her choice.
We covered a lot of ground: religion, childhood, hobbies. The kind of conversation you don't really want to end. I don't know if it was the altitude or just being somewhere removed from everything, but it was easy to actually talk up there.
We both got the virgin Blackberry Bourbon. Best mocktail I've had. The cherry that came with it was remarkable on its own. I didn't expect a mountain village of a few hundred people to be capable of a meal like that. I don't know what they're doing up there, but I'll be back.
I need to order more mocktails wherever I go! I feel like I'm missing out on a lot of delicious drinks because I abstain from alcohol. So if I can have most of the flavour with none of the alcohol, then why not try it?
Back at camp that night, the group played games, made s'mores, and kept the music going until 1:00 AM. I wasn't expecting that kind of energy from a church camping trip. It was a good night.
Day Two — Coming Back§
The night I spent in that small tent was probably the worst sleep I've had in a long time. I'd bought a children's sleeping bag, convinced I could fit and stay warm. I couldn't, and I didn't. Woke up cold a few times through the night. It did make me genuinely grateful for a warm bed, though. The kind of grateful you can only really feel when you don't have one.
I woke up with a headache and sore feet. Altitude and cold, I figured. The temperature climbed quickly once the sun came up, and I sat on a nearby bench and wrote in my journal while everyone else was still asleep.
Breakfast was a group thing: everyone together around 7:30, camp food in the cold morning air, still half-asleep. Afterwards we decided to stop in Summerhaven one last time before heading down.
My carpool group ran into my date's carpool at Bob's jewelry shop, which felt like a pretty good coincidence. Bob pointed me toward a Star of David necklace with a Tiger's Eye stone. He said Tiger's Eye represents courage, clarity, and power. I bought it.
My friends and I swung through the gift shop on the way out. I left with a resin June Bug paperweight, a ceramic mug with a spoon, and some orange creamsicle fudge.
Then we drove back down the mountain. The drive felt different going down. I wasn't holding the wheel the same way. I could actually look at the view.
What Stays With You§
For years I'd been avoiding this drive. And then I did it, and it was fine. Better than fine. That highway doesn't scare me anymore.
The date, the scenery, the jewelry, the night in the tent. I don't know, something about all of it just did something for me. I think part of me healed on that trip. While I was up there, I barely thought about work or any of the stuff I usually stress about. Not because any of it mattered less. I think I just found I could acknowledge it all, know it'd still be there when I got back, and actually be okay with that. Be where I was.
I think a year from now, I'll remember the peace.