An experienced mountaineer, I had always dreamed of conquering six peaks:

Everest

Whitney

Disney’s Matterhorn

K2

K9 ( I hear it’s a real dog)

The legendary, formidable Tumamoc Hill.

As I sat at base camp in my CRV listening to Eb Eberlein’s “Desert Trails” on KXCI, I decided this was the optimal window for my ascent. If that wildflower-gazing saguaro hugger Doug Kreutz could conquer the mighty Tumamoc so could this hobbit.

Here, then, is my journal:

11:30 a.m. — I park illegally, south of St. Mary’s Hospital, at the base of Tumamoc and enter the trail of agony where many an ankle has been sprained and many a recipe for enchiladas has been swapped. I pause at “The Luminous Mother” shrine where pilgrims pray for strength and endurance. I pray for a mobility scooter and a Sonoran hot dog.

Soon I am ascending a straight slope of naturally occurring Sonoran asphalt. A pride of señoras on their phones pass me. A morbidly obese man getting in shape stops to ask me if I’m OK. A desert tortoise wearing wrist weights passes me. I am undaunted.