The Ma Ha Tuak Perimeter Trail

Near as I can determine, you pronounce Ma Ha Tuak just as written. It shares the name of the mountain range it partially circles, and the older Ma Ha Tuak Trail, a connector trail that goes due south up the mountain. They are both well marked. Seek the word “Perimeter”.

The Ma Ha Tuak Perimeter Trail, in its entirety, connects the 19^th Ave Trailhead with the San Juan Lookout a distance of 7.8 miles. This description covers the route from the 19^th Ave Trailhead, with parking, trash and a water fountain – but no restrooms to the 35^th Avenue trail access point (because it would be a stretch to call it a trailhead) over just over 5 miles.

This is part of my series on hiking in and around the Phoenix South Mountain Preserve.

Phoenix Parks has almost no documentation on this recent addition that they clearly worked hard on. It is not on the current trail map. You will find portions of it on older trail maps as the East Laveen trail.

At the trailhead, find the sign with the word “Perimeter”. It will be towards the west end of the lot, and the dirt track it indicates proceeds west from there. It quickly passes a couple of old pit mines and a ruined homestead, and crosses a couple of washes until it turns south to climb a bit up on the slopes of the Ma Ha Tuak Mountains. [We wrote about the geology of these on the Alta Trail description].

The trail will snake along the ridgeline, through creosote and barrel cacti and young saguaros, with occasion bends to go in and out of washes. Those washes, and the palo verde trees they host, are your only possible source of shade. Not long ago, this trail was one of the most remote in the system, but with the growth of Laveen, use of this trail has also grown.

The East Laveen Trail was primarily an equestrian route for the farmers and ranchers of Laveen Many storefronts, and all of the bars, in Laveen have hitching posts in front, and residents use them.

So, yes, that’s Laveen stretching out below you. Beyond the patchwork of small, weird mansions that creep up the slope to the park boundary, the once quiet farming community of Laveen is being slowly eaten alive by gated housing communities.

Laveen is generally defined as north of the mountains, east of the Gila Reservation, south of the Salt River, and west of 27^th Avenue – though most locals consider their western boundary to be 19^th Avenue – at least south of Dobbins. Sure. Excepting a few county islands, it’s all Phoenix now.

Phoenix grew south and west towards the sleepy village until 1960, when it directly bordered and then started to annex the village. However, up until the start of this century, you could not tell the difference. As late as 1990, only the major arteries were paved, and not paved that well. They did not have municipal water service until this century.

And now the farmland is slowly giving away to remarkably similar single family homes surrounded by walls and moats.

You’ll still see horse-shoe prints, and horse droppings on this trail, but you are more likely to encounter trail runners and mountain bikers. That said, it is still quiet compared to most of the north slope trails. [If you really want quiet, try the Bajada Trail.]

The Pink House (you won’t miss it) is about the halfway point for this portion of the hike. Someone paid extra for the privilege of having hikers stare down into their yard and coyotes go through their garbage. Even at this height you can see most of the west valley in clear weather. They can see it from their upstairs room.

This house is below what I’ve dubbed the 27^th Ave Wash (that’s the road heading north into the horizon) where the Park Service has installed railings for reasons I cannot conjure. The trail bends north out of the wash until it clears this little canyon to bend back west.

Less than a mile later, the footpath will dump into a remnant road, and the trail follows that for a half mile until it splits visibly south from the old roadway. The footpath going south, and up, is the trail staying in park boundaries. The straight road west will soon end in private property, though there is clearly common access from the residential Ansell Road.

A bit beyond that split you will come to the intersection with a short access trail that dumps into the southern terminus of 35^th Avenue. While the trail has signed public access, the dirt lot beyond the boundary is basically someone’s extended driveway. I’d feel fine walking across it, or being dropped off here, but I couldn’t vouch for actually parking.

The Trail continues from here, winding south around the western edge of the range and then to meet the National trail near the San Juan Lookout. But here is where I realized I was halfway through my water and turned around.

The entire trail is listed as 7.5 miles in length. I feel this portion as about 5.5. It would be a moderate car shuttle, but a hard out-and -back due to the distance.

https://www.google.com/maps/d/embed?mid=1E0N2hD20Gmri7WJKXHM51OOd4JPRe7Q&ehbc=2E312F

The Bajada Trail – main

A bajada is the mound of run-off sediment skirting the edge of the mountain. It is not quite Spanish for “Alluvial Fan”, but they are functionally the same thing.

The Bajada Trail winds up and across its namesake across the San Juan Valley in the Phoenix South Mountain preserve. Or, rather, the main western portion des this. The eastern third of the trail is basically a connector trail we have written about elsewhere.

The portion we write about here connects the San Juan Bicycle Center with the San Juan Lookout, running from its junction with the Max Delta Trail (at the lot) to its’ junction with the National Trail on the west end of the park. You then follow the National Trail northwest to the lookout.

This is often done as a loop hike with the Alta Trail. If so, regardless of direction, do Alta is the harder of the two, and I always recommend doing the hard part first. If you do it as a loop, take a lunch.

I did this as a car shuttle. My plan was to park at the bike lot, and then have a friend drive me to the Curtis Saddle Trailhead. However, we lucked into one of those Brigadoon-like morning when the vehicle road to San Juan Lookout was actually open to actual vehicles. So, he dropped me off there instead.

The route is National Trail of Bajada Trail to the bike center – a route that is about 4.3 miles one way. Most people can do it in a couple of hours.

National Trail heading out from the lookout is what you picture single-track trail through the low desert to look like: Packed dirt wide enough for one pedestrian, winding through the cactus. There are not a lot of landmarks. Sure, to the west, AZ 202 crosses in front of the casino, but the trail itself has few features. The junction with the Maw Ha Tuak Perimeter Trail. A stand of teddy-bear cholla. A stand of chain fruit cholla. A stand with both of them together. A geologic marker. You cross three small washes, then a big one, and then East San Juan Road. On the far (south) side of that you come to the junction with the western terminus of the Bajada Trail.

The National Trail, also called the Maricopa Trail heads off further southwest until it turns east and charges up the main Gila Range to the top ridge. It will continue east across that ridge to the other end of the park.

I took the Bajada Trail, of course. It promptly crossed the grey-gravel expanse of the main San Juan wash, and then began a lesser climb up the mountain, turning east kinda-sorta along the top of the bajada.

When the road is closed, and you get some distance from the freeway, this is one of the quietest sections in the park.

The trail will go up the berm and down the wash and up the berm for most of its remaining length (either direction). It is in excellent shape, a little rocky in places, blue and black basalt with a little gypsum for color, but you can do this in tennis shoes. The entire length is a shadeless march through stunted palo-verde trees, bone dry creosote and a scattering of cacti.

The terrain is not your problem. Like all hikes in this park, or this area, do not attempt this in summer unless you start marching in the predawn gloom. The entire hike I noted two places (both washes) with enough shade that a grown human could sit down within.

Below you (north) East San Juan Road follows the wash through the relatively quiet canyon. Towards the end, after one of the few sustained climbs, the trail with turn north and descend towards the road. Before you get there, as you start to enter the main wash, you will reach the junction with Alta Trail.

You are a half-mile from the trailhead. You can guzzle some water now.

Don’t cross the wash. Stay on Bajada as it turns east again, though and then out of the wash. Then across the desert floor a little farther to pavement.

If you look up the hill during this passage you will see mine trailings, and perhaps some social trails going up towards same. There is at least one open mine shaft still existing on those slopes, but you are on your own with that. When crawling about in mine-shafts, you are betting your life on the engineering acumen and diligence of whatever miner dug this 100+ years ago, and I cannot recommend that.

The bike lot has trashcans, but no other services. The San Juan Lookout has nothing but an old ramada and signage.

https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/edit?mid=14IdApz3yrXDPYg9m-SmDkkiXZ8tYtDs&usp=sharing

The Alta Trail

This is the toughest trail in the Phoenix South Mountain Preserve. It is also one of the more lightly used one, as, aside from the difficulty, none of its access points are from parking lots. Originally built by CCC and convict labor in the 1930’s , it is one of the oldest existing trails in the park. And one of the best – if you’re up for it.

You can do it as a loop with the Bajada or even the National trail, and that will take all day. If you do it as a car-shuttle, no one will judge you. Either way, it is worth doing – at least once.

This article is part of an ongoing series about hikes in the South Mountain Preserve.

My son waiting patiently on “Dead Man’s Trail”

We (my son joined me) parked one car at the Curtis Saddle “Trailhead”. We only call it a trailhead because it is so marked upon a map. At the eastern dead-end of Estrella Drive, just east of 43^rd Ave, where it turns to dirt, you can find several places to park along the barbed wire fence lining the south side of the road. There are no services.

The elevation here is about 1140 feet.

A short connector trail (called Dead Man’s trail in some sources) charges up the rock slopes, bisecting the Ma Ha Tauk Perimeter Trail (aka the East Laveen Trail) before winding south through the actual Curtis Saddle and down to the San Juan Lookout.

San Juan Lookout is one of several parking lots in the park where you are no longer allowed to realistically park. That’s another article. To our purpose it is a trail hub granting access to the National or Maricopa trail, which crosse the entire park east-west, the Bajada Trail which goes across the gentle slopes of the San Juan Valley to the east, and the Alta Trail, which also heads east – but straight up the slopes of the Ma Ha Tauk mountains.

It has always been my preference to go up the hard way – while your feet are fresh, and then down the easy way, which is why we describe this hike west to east. The western climb has some switch-backs, but it has just as many places where you are going to be obliged to use your hands or maybe your knees to get up the rock-surface portion of the trail.

There is one particularly daunting spot, where a straight climb up scree leads you to a trail marker, taunting you. This is a trap. Look behind you. The trail actually switches sharply back to climb the slope in a more rational manner.

This old trail winds up the oldest of the two ranges that form the park. This range and the western portion of the Gila range (due south) are composed of Precambrian gneiss pushing up granite 1.7 billion years ago. It has been slowly eroding ever since. You’re helping.

There are a couple false summits where you can pant and take pictures but the literal high point is also approximately the half-way point, around 2.5 miles, when you reach the ridge crest and can see both the north and south sides of the range. This is 2400 feet, depending upon which rock you sit on. That’s why you’re tired.

The highest point of the range, at just under 2500′ is called Maricopa peak – on some maps.

From here, the trail winds up and down the high slopes on the north side for a mile or so before cresting again. On the way, you can see the farming village of Laveen and the gated communities that increasing surround it. You can also absolutely win a game of desert cactus bingo along its slopes, passing stately saguaros, whispey ocotillos, stunted palo -verde trees, angry cholla and in the right season delicate wildflowers. If you’re lucky you’ll see some hawks. If you’re less lucky – jet planes.

The last mile and a half winds down the southeast slopes in lunatic switchbacks – a hallmark of CCC trail engineering. Towards the bottom, you might find where the original course was abandoned for a straighter line along the wash.

You will cross that wash, and the trail flattens as it approaches the San Juan Bicycle Center, where you can find the Bajada Trail and the Max Delta. The San Juan Bicycle Center is another not-really-open parking lot that we ~~made fun of~~ described in the Max Delta trail description. It has trashcans and places to sit, but no other services. There are other normally open parking lots just down the road.

We reached the Bicycle Center from Curtis Saddle in just over 4 hours – but I hike slow and take notes and pictures. My son could have easily shaved an hour off of that were he not waiting on me.

https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/edit?mid=1e9FnqcM6gPcCKJL-YigFhgey3FrwWRQ&usp=sharing

The abandoned Holbert Lookout (I think)

I can’t call it the Lost Lookout, as cool as that sounds, because you can see it from the street.

As I stare at the Phoenix South Mountain Preserve, the ridgetop immediately east of Dobbins Lookout also has a stone structure upon it that I can see from my house. As a side-quest to the Holbert Trail I decided to seek it out.

To reach it, I followed the Holbert Trail south and up, past the Dobbin’s Lookout connector, and up to Buena Vista Road. I then followed the actual road east for a few hundred yards. Before you get to the junction with TV road, you will encounter a guard rail on the north side of a gentle curve across a relatively level ridgetop. This is not necessarily to keep careless drivers on the road. This is to keep curious drivers off the remnant road running north of here.

Well, I’m a pedestrian. So I went around the rail and south along what was vaguely a remnant road flanked by small palo-verde trees and young saguaros. The oldest of the saguaros guards the destination about a half-mile from the road, but you’ll see the big double-hoodoo first.

The remnant road climbs the hill, past the hoodoo to empty into what was clearly a vehicular parking/overlook with space for maybe 10 cars.

The topo map has the elevation at 2246’ above sea level.

I believe, based on inferences, but not direct references, in old city planning docs, that this was called Holbert Overlook. The concrete stamp on the west side declares it was built by JSP in 1979-80 for the City of Phoenix. Its is referenced in the 1989 city master plan for the preserve.

D3 – The North Overlook area near the Summit of the Gila-Guadalupe Range. Containing Holbert and Dobbins Lookouts, with access to Buena Vista and Gila Overlooks, this sub-zone will continue to receive large numbers of visitors. Overlook sacrifice zones should be defined and edged with compatible barrier treatments.

Or abandoned and forgotten apparently. It does not appear on the 2007 trail map, or any map afterwards.

The road, though, appears on the 1952 USGS topo map.

All searches for Holbert Lookout will produce results for the trail. The lookout was abandoned before the internet was useful, so sometime in the 1990’s. I’ll update this article if I find an answer to that.

Meanwhile, I had the place nearly to myself. The other guy was also making a video, though in Spanish. He climbed the hoodoo. I did not. But I enjoyed the view until the rest of my hike called me away.

The Holbert Trail

When you have friends or relations in from out-of-town and they say that they want to hike up South Mountain – and you are satisfied that they understand what “hike” and “up” really mean in this context – you want Holbert Trail.

It is also worth doing on its own merits.

This hike is part of my Phoenix South Mountain Preserve Collection.

One of several park things named for Charles M Holbert, the first custodian of South Mountain Preserve from 1929 to 1939. It is said that there was no place in the preserve that he had not visited.

The official trailhead of Holbert is now in the giant parking lot near the Central Avenue entrance. Where exactly, in the giant lot depends on where they are in reconstructing the group picnic site.

The two and half miles of Holbert Trail can be roughly divided into four sections. The first section starts in the giant parking lot, wandering east across the north base of the mountains, skirting a couple of retention basins. You can find some petroglyphs in the early going. This is where you take out-of-towners who clearly do not grasp “hike” or “up” in this context, and you do not want to hear them whine. Meaning this portion is super-easy, and totally skippable.

The second part can be easily reached by the 7^th Street or Mineral Road trailhead. This is no longer an official trailhead on city maps, but the dead-end of Mineral Road heading east from the southern terminus of 7th Street is very much used as a trailhead. Both the footpath on the west side and the access road on the east side will lead you to signed junctions with Holbert Trail.

This is also the entrance for Mystery Castle – should that attraction ever manage to open its gates again.

Past the second water tank, Holbert starts its second section, a sustained, winding climb up and across two ridges and then up a narrowing canyon lined with blackened basalt. Every time you can bring your gaze up from the constant rock-stairs on the trail you will see the desert slopes of the mountains spreading before you. Stop and turn around and you will witness the whole of the Phoenix metro stretching off into the horizon.

So, this hike is best done on a clear day. Otherwise, you will see the bowl of haze you hiked out of, realize that you actually live in that, and struggle with sadness. But on a clear day, this is awesome.

As this popular trail winds up the canyon, the voices of other hikers in the distance will echo around the steep walls. This is a poor place to plan a felony with your friends.

Just past what would be a waterfall, for the seven hours a year this canyon has running water, you will encounter the junction with the Dobbins Lookout Access Trail. At this point you’ve climbed 500 feet up in just over a half mile – which is why you’re feeling it.

Most locals with out-of-towners in tow take the access road to Dobbins Lookout. Yeah – don’t tell them. Hearing your friends exclaim “We could have driven up here?” is a long and traditional source of great joy.

There are also vault toilets here – one of the few available outside of the developed picnic areas.

When I did this hike for photos, I cheated. I had a friend drop me off at Dobbins, then I went up Holbert, off to a side-quest, and then down.

Upper Holbert continues past the Dobbins junction, climbing the rest of the way out of the canyon before crossing Buena Vista Road. It keeps climbing over and then on top of the actual mountain. This portion is quieter, less crowded, slightly easier and more scenic than the portions that came before, and totally worth doing. In less than a half mile from Buena Vista Road, you will reach TV Road. Across that road – which goes to the antenna farm on the summit and the Gila Valley Lookout – is the terminus of the Holbert Trail as it T’s with the Maricopa or National Tail. You are at the 2.5 or 3 mile mark, depending on whether you went up to Dobbins, and have climbed at least 1200 feet from the trailhead to stand at 2400 feet above sea level.

The proximity of either Dobbins or Gila Valley lookouts make this a super-easy car shuttle. You could also take the National Trail west to the Kiwanis Trail and then Los Lomitas Trail to make a full loop of it. The loop would add a couple of hours.

The up and back described could be done in four hours, five if you dawdle. I mean – I suppose. I actually cheated.

Los Lomitas Trail

Los Lomitas Trail in South Mountain Preserve is the connector trail between the middle of the developed picnic lands and the giant parking lot that separates the conference center from the group picnic grounds. It is the third and final leg of my South Mountain Infrastructure Loop.

For all that, this trail is worth doing on its own. Because this is part of the loop, we start in the middle of the park, and head towards the great lot where you likely left your car.

We start at the four-way junction: The Bajada Trail goes south, up the slope. The Ranger trail continues north, towards the Five Tables Trailhead. The Derby Trail, which is oft signed as part of Los Lomitas, goes west to eventually join the Max Delta Trail, but the part we want, the main portion of Los Lomitas, heads east, before bending north.

East now, from the junction, Los Lomitas goes over low hill and shallow wash a few times before crossing some flat desert. On the far side of that, you reach Los Lomitas Cabanas, which were fenced off when I was there, but the restroom was open. By open, I mean unlocked. The gate door is closed and latched, presumably to keep the critters out of the garbage. Latch it back up behind you.

The trail follows ridgeline NE to the Kiwanis TH (and another RR), then parallels the road a spell before dropping into a large wash near the ramada compound of the Piedras Grandes picnic grounds.

Here, you trudge through sand, as opposed to the packed dirt of the trail that came before. In mid-day, the high walls of this wash present your only hope for shade. Los Lomitas climbs out of this wash to merge with Box Canyon Trail, a horse trench bending more north now. Soon, Box Canyon/Los Lomitas parallels the Judith Tunell accessible trail as it gradually bends from north to northeast before reaching the parking lot.

Where exactly in the parking lot depends upon where they are in the endless construction. This flat expanse of asphalt hides few secrets, and rarely more than a dozen cars. You’ll be fine.

Max Delta Trail

Max Delta is an entry level trail through the entrance of the preserve. It is named after the mine shaft that lies buried and officially off limits towards its southern terminus. That is another article. This is just about the trail.

This trail is part of the Infrastructure Vista Loop Hike.

From the trailhead at the entrance (across from Scorpion Gulch) the flat, wide trail winds west then south, narrowing as it climbs up the ridgeline it will follow for half its’ distance. Your first landmark is a monument and plaque commemorating the city elders who re-designated the park into a Phoenix South Mountain Preserve.

If you’re new here, Phoenix was founded by developers who eventually become old and rich philanthropic preservationists determined to protect the precious desert from the new wave of developers. Somewhere in the 1970’s, 1973 – by the plaque, the ~~old developers~~ city elders started designating the “park” as a “preserve”.

Litigation followed. But here it is, still more -or-less preserved.

Heading south, the trail intersects with the interpretive trail behind the old visitor’s center. This is one of the last of the original CCC buildings that still sees actual use. Looking out, you can easily see the new visitor center in the distance, and the work compound just across the street. The old administration building still has restrooms and water available to the public. The small ranger office and gift shop it once house have moved elsewhere.

The gunfire you hear from the far side of the ridge is not random. There is a gun range on the other side, both the private Phoenix Rod and Gun Club and the Phoenix Police training range. These have been here since 1948, when these slopes were still a “park”. They expanded somewhat contentiously in the 1990s, closing the trailhead on the terminus of 7^th Ave at Olney.

They are not supposed to shoot hikers, even accidentally, even hikers off the trail, but the party investigating will be the one most likely to have shot you, so stay on this side of the ridge.

Climbing down from the ridge you cross low hills with patches of barrel cacti, then saguaro then teddy-bear cholla. The trail goes down into a wash and Y’s on the far side. Max Delta proceeds south, to your right. To the left, the trail crossing the road is the Derby Trail aka Los Lomitas. You can take that turn and shave a good 40% off the loop hike. But for now, we follow the Max Delta.

The dirt turns grey as the trail crosses the arroyo, finally a bit away from the road. You will cross another road, along with numerous washes, but it gives brief illusions of crossing open desert. Look for mine pits along the way.

The gates were closed at the San Juan Bike Hub, as this was not the first weekend of the month. It’s not closed to people, but certainly closed to vehicles. Even on the special weekend, it just affords closer parking to those who want to hike or bike down San Juan Road – which is another article. There are some amphitheater seats which were not shaded in the afternoon by the large metal canopy, a trash receptacle, and a good number of empty parking spaces for both bikes and cars. I was the only person there when I arrived, and took a break there, surrounded by this rust-colored monument to municipal expenditure.

Then I proceeded east down the Bajada Trail to continue on with the loop.