It was still another hour of driving before I reached the other side of the mountains and the head of the trail I planned on setting up basecamp on. I had originally found the area on a microfiche map that was copied and preserved from a map made back at the turn of the twentieth century.    For some odd reason the cramped and obviously unkempt road was not on more modern maps, though I supposed that it just wasn’t used anymore. Either way, the area was obviously abandoned and that made it basically perfect for what I was after. 

The truck’s transmission whined as I feathered the clutch along the rough road. It was a bit much even for the old truck, and if it got much worse I might have needed to turn around, but the vehicle soldiered on into the rocky foothills. A small cluster of trees about five miles in fit the bill for what I was looking for in a good location for basecamp and I pulled the protesting machine off the road and found a level spot to park it. The engine cut out as I took the key from the ignition and breathed in. 

“This is it.” I thought. The area was devoid of any sign of civilization. No sounds of motor vehicles, no screaming children, no smell of pollution. There wasn’t even any trash or traces of humans entering this bit of land. I was away from it all and it felt damn good. Just me and the mountainous desert along with whatever the local flora and fauna could throw at me. 

Most of my afternoon was spent preparing the area for the three night stay I planned on. A hole in the ground a dozen yards away would serve its purpose for biological waste, my tent was put up in the bed of the truck and the sleeping pad rolled out with a sleeping bag on top. My locking cooler was shoved under the tailgate where it would hopefully be left alone by desert critters. The firepit was constructed from a shallow hole and ringed with stones. The pile of dirt from the toilet hole and the firepit was kept close at hand for extinguishing purposes. I didn’t want to take any more from the environment than I had to, so I had hauled in a bundle of firewood I had bought from a supermarket in town along with most of my meal prep supplies. Most of those supplies were dry of course though, since the oppressive day time heat would put any produce to ruin. I did plan, however, to spend the next day at a lake that was only ten miles further east. The bicycle currently locked to the truck frame would provide transport there and back. Should only take about an hour each way. If I could snag a couple trout, my meals would be a lot tastier and more fulfilling. That was a concern for the morning though. There was still daylight overhead and I planned on making the most of it. 

I checked my hiking bag and pulled it from the truck cab along with my field knife and my handgun. I didn’t carry it often, but in the wilderness, it was much better to have than not. The only time I had actually fired it outside of a range was when I had been hiking further North. A wild javelina boar had taken offense to my presence when I woke up to him pawing through my campsite. I jumped out of the bed and it charged me, tusks lowered. With basically no time to react, I put two rounds into its head. The whole thing was a mess with the game and fish department, but the rangers were understanding and no real repercussions came of it. I had been sure to carry it with me in the wilderness ever since. One never knew what kind of beast would be haunting you next. 

With everything strapped into place, I locked everything up as much as I could and moved out from camp. The area was beautiful as far as desert landscape went. There was something special about it due to the untouched energy that permeated the area. Of course, it was still the desert, so things were arid and hot. The higher elevations on this side of the mountains helped that though, and it wasn’t nearly as hot as the valley was still at that time of day. The copse of ironwood trees I had made camp under made for nice shade over the truck, but not many others like it grew in the harsh ground. There were bushes and cacti galore though and it seemed that the prickly pears were at or near the height of their season. Many of the fruit bearing cacti were scattered as far as my eye could see, and the bright red fruit was sitting ripe atop many of them. Even though the plant was protected under federal law against harvesting, I still planned on snagging a couple. No one would miss them, especially around here. The prickly pear itself was delicious and completely safe as long as one could prepare and dethorn it before consumption. It would make for a delicious snack whenever I got around to picking and preparing some. I bet that it would go nicely with the small bit of homemade salsa I had in the cooler and that could make for an interesting topping for a filet of trout. Hah, ever the cook, I was. It was a hobby of mine. Still is really. 

My explorations finally ventured into the foothills after I pulled myself from my musings on food. I had only been going for about half an hour when I discovered the path. The thing wasn’t even really visible until I spotted the painted stone marking the head while walking. The marker stone was about hip height and on its face, ancient and weathered white paint traced the outline of a circle with several unrecognizable symbols within. I knew just from looking at it that the thing was Native American in origin, but I lacked the knowledge to decipher any of it. The only real recognizable symbol was an arrow pointing ahead. Following the line started by the arrow, the path came into focus. It was overgrown and rough. I doubt that anyone had used it in decades. It was still perceptible though with the help of the marker stone. Something that I still, to this day,  don’t really understand set itself in my gut at that time though. Call it fate, call it divine power, curiosity, call it whatever you want, I knew that I needed to follow that path and see where it led. At the time though, I just knew that this was where my adventure was going to really kick off. 

The path was nigh on treacherous. Parts of it were washed out by previous rains, other areas were overgrown with desert flora. But the trail was traversable, if only barely. It led deeper into the mountains and there were multiple points that I found myself having to stop to catch my breath. The path ahead took a steep turn and began climbing rapidly up what I could see was a pretty steep rocky cliff. The ascent was going to be difficult, even compared to some of the other rock scrabbling I had done previous, I could tell. The sun was beginning to dip low on the horizon however. I knew that I had to turn back for the night. But at the same time, I also needed to continue onward. Something, right at the edge of my senses, seemed to be pulling me in. It was an odd feeling at best, but also incredibly alluring. Something was ahead of me on this trail, I could feel it in my very bones. Common sense got the better of me though. The trail would need to wait until morning. Hiking this kind of path was ill advised in the dark of night and who knew how far ahead… whatever it was, was. I didn’t like it but I followed my better judgement and turned back to camp. 

By the time I arrived back at the truck, the sun had set and only the barest hint of fire still glowed over the peaks of the mountains. It did, however, seem that I was far enough away from Phoenix that not even the ever-present glow of the city lights could make it over the peaks. That was more pleasing to me than words can describe. The last of his stress from regular life finally faded at that moment and rather than light the campfire, I laid down and rather quickly surrendered myself to Hypnos’s grasp.

A coyote’s howl shook me from my sleep early the next morning. I bolted to the flap and peaked out the half opened zipper. The sky was still dark, but the light of a new day was beginning to spill over the horizon. It was an incredible view and I knew I wasn’t likely to get back to sleep again, so I pulled my boots back on and got up and out of the tent. The view was beautiful and utterly unlike the view from the opposite side of the mountains. To see sunrise like that, unimpeded by the city haze and the mountains that ring the valley, it nearly took my breath away. I really had to wonder if the natives of this land had gazed upon the same view when they still inhabited the area. I pulled a bottle of my sports drink from the cooler and took a seat on the tailgate. I breathed in, I breathed out, and the sun rose over the Sonoran Desert. There was almost a spiritual aspect to the experience. The light washed over the terrain and washed over him just the same as everything else. Despite the blinding light, or perhaps because of it, I simply basked in the feeling for a couple minutes. 

“Screw fishing.” I thought to myself. “Today is going to be special and I'm not going to waste it casting lines into the lake and possibly coming up empty. That trail was calling me and that burning need to see it to the end was back stronger than ever.

I dressed quickly. Once more the holster was strapped to one side and the sheath to the other. Both tools slipped into their respective places. I pulled a wide brimmed hat on to my head. My wallet in one pocket and my phone in the opposite. Sunscreen was almost an afterthought. With the fresh light, I shouldered my pack and disembarked from the meagre camp. The unknown was waiting for me. My breakfast was eaten in stride, a simple protein bar and some trail mix washed down with water from my backpacks reservoir. There wasn’t time to sit and enjoy the meal. The marked trail was waiting for me. Nothing could stand in my way now.

Just as the night before, the small trail was difficult. However, in the early morning light, the overgrowth and washed out areas were much easier to avoid. Indeed, the weather seemed to be encouraging me along as well, the air cool and clean. A subtle breeze passed through the air and was enough to nearly send a shiver down my spine. The going was easier than before. It took only an hour to reach the point that had taken me nearly half an hour longer to reach the night before. The abrupt climb up the cliff was just as scary as it had been the previous night, but with the light, I was able to make out shallow indentations in the rock face that seemed to be carved steps. They were badly eroded, but they were still able to serve their intended purpose as I began the ascent. With some careful footwork, and a bit of creative hand holds, the seemingly sheer cliff face became scaleable. 

The pull continued to grow in strength as I continued the climb. What had been a gentle tug at the edge of my senses was now a solid pull in the gut. As I pushed further, things seemed to almost blur together. My feet knew where to step and my hands knew just where to take hold. It was simply grab, step, grab, step. That is all there was for a period of time that I honestly am unable to really remember. But before I really even realized how long I had climbed, the stairs suddenly stopped. Only the cliff face and open air remained at my back and I found what the path had led me to at long last: the gaping maw of a cave.

There was almost no border between the cliff and the cave. Where the cliff crested, the cave began. The mouth must have only been about five feet across, but the cave went deep into the mountain, and there was no light inside. That feeling in my gut told me that this is where I needed to be. Something in this cave was what was pulling me in. Luckily, I wasn’t constrained to the use of lit torches like the natives likely had been. A headlamp from my pack was exactly the tool for the job and I grabbed it out and took a few drinks of water before again turning my shining gaze back to the cave. 

According to the geologists, this mountain range was formed by volcanic activity long ago. There were several caves in the area. I had even explored a few. None of those caves were like this though. This one had a… feeling to it. I couldn't really explain it. It was just somehow more. A screech interrupted me before I could enter the cave proper. I whipped my body around and caught sight of something that sent a shock of primal fear into my soul.

Sitting on a dead tree that hung from the cliff face was a golden eagle. The massive raptor was beautiful in all of its deadly glory. Oh and, yeah, it was staring directly at me. The tawny bird turned a bright golden eye towards him and I worried for a moment that the sweat I could feel soaking my pants was more than just sweat. “Easy there, big guy I-” The bird screeched loudly and its wings extended slightly in a posture that felt incredibly threatening. “Alright uh.. Girl?” Bizarrely, the bird of prey seemed to calm at this. It seemed to look deeply into me and then looked past me and into the cave before returning its predator’s gaze to my mortal form. Then, in a move that I don’t think any person could have predicted, the eagle bowed its head and then lifted off, turning and flying into the still early morning sun. 

That eagle felt important somehow. That it had acknowledged me and even seemed to respond to my words… This cave was not ordinary. I had zero clue what could be inside. But I knew I was going to find out soon. 

The trek into the cave was fairly simple despite the almost supernatural air that seemed to permeate its interior. The floor was smooth and though the ceiling had stalactites coming from the ceiling and forming pillars of stone in places, the apparent tunnel was easily traversable. It was after a solid ten minutes of walking deeper into the mountain that things began getting much more interesting again. The tunnel I was in opened into a cavern that must have been big enough to fit my entire apartment building. The walls were covered in paintings and opposite to the tunnel I had just come from, another tunnel presumably led even deeper into the mountain. At the center of it all was what could only be described as an altar. A stone table covered with paints of every color rose from the cavern floor. On it sat the possibly ancient remains of an offering, bits of sinew and bone that I wasn;t even going to try to to identify. The cavern was obviously sacred to whatever people had constructed all of this, but for some reason I felt comfortable there. It felt right in ways I could not describe. I don’t like admitting that so many things were so indescribable, but, especially at the time, I lacked the mental tools to understand much of what was going on. Pulling off my pack, I sat down a few feet away from the table. Disturbing the altar could not lead to anything good happening after all. I did however, take my phone out to take pictures. It was entirely possible that none of the historians and archeologists knew this was here. I thought that maybe, such a discovery might be valuable to some treasure hunter back in Phoenix. A bit of extra spending money gained as part of a potential finder’s fee sounded pretty good to me at the time.

I took a few minutes at that point to sit down and munch on a granola bar from my pack. It didn’t feel right to pull one of the kit meals out. The thought of lighting up my tiny solid fuel stove seemed wrong to put in action within the sacred ground of the cavern. So, my second meal of the day was granola, trail mix and a cookie that was apparently still hiding in my pack from my last trip out. A bottle of electrolyte filled sports drink washed it all down and felt like a solid conclusion to my simple meal. I had expected to jump back up and continue my explorations, but the high energy meal only served to make me sleepy as the carbohydrates hit my system. The thought occurred to me that “Oh hey, I just climbed a mountain.” And so, for reasons unknown, and it was obviously horribly stupid of me in hindsight, I decided that that cavern, a place I knew was of some sort of sacred and possibly mystical importance, would be a perfectly safe spot to take a nap. I hadn’t been completely wrong looking back on it. I wasn’t physically harmed in any way after all. Regardless, none of that could possibly change the fact that falling asleep there was a mistake I would never in my life forget.