Making Lemonade on Mt. Lemmon - 9,157ft
Overview:
Spring break this year carried me south to Tucson, where the desert stretches wide and the mountains rise abruptly from the valley floor. The centerpiece of the trip was Mt. Lemmon, an ascent that feels less like a single climb and more like a slow journey through climates, terrain, and states of mind. I set out to tackle it twice. Once, on foot along the rugged trails that cut toward the summit. And once on my road bike, winding up the long ribbon of the Catalina highway. Each attempt asked something different of me. The bike demanded patience and rhythm over miles of steady gradient, while the hike tested endurance in a more immediate, physical way. Experiencing the same mountain through both efforts turned the climb into a kind of conversation with the landscape, and with my own limits.
The Ride:
My journey up Lemmon began with a stop at Fair Wheel Cycles on the campus of the University of Arizona. Instead of riding my Trek Speed Concept up the mountain, I planned to rent a Trek Madone to save some precious weight and feel a bit safer on the long, fast descents. But when I arrived, the previous renter hadn’t returned the Madone yet. That small hiccup opened up a far better option: a 2025 ENVE Melee. And honestly, it wasn’t a difficult decision to ride a brand-new thirteen-thousand-dollar bike for the day. The shop fastened my pedals, checked my fit, and got everything dialed so I was ready to spin up the mountain.
I rolled out to the rock sign just outside the park, the unofficial start of the Lemmon climb. For nutrition I was loaded down with 2 Precision Hydration Gel/Caffeine 100s, two sleeves of Clif Shot Blocks, a bottle mixed with three scoops of Precision Hydration’s carb-electrolyte mix, and a one-liter bottle of plain H₂O. Thankfully my parents were crewing me throughout the climb, so I only had to carry enough to sustain me for about an hour at a time.
From there, the road begins its steady tilt toward the sky. Mt. Lemmon doesn’t hit you with brutal pitches right away; instead, it asks for patience. The grade settles into a rhythm, winding upward through the desert as the saguaros slowly thin out and the air cools with every mile. The first stretch is about finding cadence, letting your legs settle in, keeping the effort controlled, and resisting the urge to chase the mountain too early.
Excitement and early adrenaline had me hitting 275 watts for roughly the first 8 miles of the climb. By this point I knew that the following 20 miles would be an absolute grind. Mile 8 had our highest temp of the day at a brutally sunny 80.6 degrees
What makes Lemmon special is how dramatically the landscape changes as you climb. Down low it feels unmistakably Sonoran: dry air, wide views, cactus scattered across the hillsides, and temperatures hovering around 72°F. But by mile ten you’ve already gained roughly 2,000 feet of elevation, and the terrain begins to shift. The road coils through canyons, vegetation thickens, and the air slowly cools. It’s one of those climbs where you can feel the altitude stacking up beneath you.
Just after Windy Point lies what is, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful sections of the entire climb: the Hoodoos. These towering rock formations look almost unreal, like massive stacks of stone balancing on top of one another. The highway threads between two deep canyons here, making it feel like you’re riding across a bridge suspended in the sky.
This stretch briefly eases into a 1–3% grade, offering a rare moment of recovery before the sustained 5–6% gradient returns. After grinding for miles, that slight relief feels like a gift.
One strange thing that caught my eye in the Hoodoos section was a silver sedan wedged into the side of the mountain. At first it seemed impossible that a car could even end up there. Later I learned it had gone off the road in 2020, tumbling roughly 200 feet down the cliffside. Even more incredible was that the occupant survived the crash despite landing among the jagged Arizona rock.
After the Hoodoos, the highway undergoes another transformation. The saguaros disappear entirely, temperatures begin to drop, and the landscape shifts into a high-elevation forest environment. Evergreen trees start to line the road, offering patches of shade that felt incredibly welcome after the exposed desert miles below.
Around mile 16 we crossed 6,000 feet above sea level, and that’s where I began to see my power numbers start to fall. With only three weeks of cycling training after finishing my swim season, I knew there was a chance I’d be slightly underprepared for a climb like this. Going into the ride I had set a simple goal: enjoy the climb, and let the training come with it.
Passing mile 20 felt like a huge milestone. By then we were approaching 7,000 feet of elevation, and the effort was beginning to take its toll. Not long after, I felt that familiar lump in the back of my throat and some serious stomach instability. I pulled over briefly to deal with it the only way endurance athletes sometimes have to—pulling trig.
As unpleasant as it sounds, it actually helped a lot. I felt noticeably better afterward, though my quads were still burning as I pushed toward the only downhill section of the entire climb. I regrouped with my parents there, refilled my bottles, and demolished a Rice Krispie treat before setting off for the final eight miles.
The summit of the Strava Verified Mt. Lemmon segment comes at mile 24, where the road tops out at 8,167 feet above sea level. Then comes the brief reward: a fast two-mile descent, dropping about 625 feet as speeds quickly climb into the 30–40 mph range.
That relief, however, is temporary.
The next two miles bring one last uphill push before reaching Summerhaven. With about a quarter mile left, my entire right leg suddenly locked into a brutal, pulsing cramp that nearly brought me to tears.
My parents drove ahead to see how much climbing remained. When they came back with the news—“only a quarter mile to the top”—it was exactly the motivation I needed.
When I finally reached the crest, the feeling was a mix of excitement, pride, and complete exhaustion. After starting the climb in 80-degree heat, the summit greeted us with a crisp 50°F mountain air, and I immediately needed a light shell just to stay comfortable.
And then came the best part of the entire climb: The Cookie Cabin.
I hadn’t researched it much beforehand. All I had heard was that they served massive cookies—and they absolutely delivered. Out came a hot, plate-sized white chocolate macadamia nut cookie, along with two slices of pepperoni pizza. After nearly three hours of climbing, it might have been the best food I’ve ever tasted.
Because of the temperature and my limited experience descending a technical mountain road like Lemmon, I decided it was smarter to drive down rather than ride it. I didn’t feel confident enough to stay laser-focused for another hour of high-speed descending, and safety seemed like the better call.
Honestly, I wasn’t disappointed. When I planned this trip, the goal was simple: ride up Mt. Lemmon. The descent would have just been a bonus.
In total, the ride covered 28.57 miles with 5,856 feet of elevation gain, taking 2 hours and 45 minutes. The effort burned 2,124 calories with an average power of 209 watts. Power distribution showed 25% of the ride in the lactate threshold zone, 34% in the aerobic capacity zone, and another 25% in the anaerobic capacity zone. My heart rate averaged around 166 bpm, higher than I would have preferred but understandable given the heat, altitude, and effort.
More than anything, this climb taught me what it really means to ride mountains. Coming from Indiana, where you could ride 500 miles and never see the elevation gain Lemmon offers in a single climb, it was a completely different experience.
Mt. Lemmon is often called the best climb in the United States, and after riding it, I can absolutely see why.
If you’re looking to cycle Lemmon:
• Layer Up
Wear a long-sleeve jersey for sun protection and warmth as temperatures drop with elevation.
Bring a gilet (vest) for the descent and to block wind at higher elevations.
Summer bibs work perfectly fine since your legs will stay warm during the climb.
In March, gloves aren’t really necessary, though that may change during colder months.
• Nutrition
At minimum, bring one bottle with carbs/electrolytes and two bottles of water.
Pack at least six gels and four Rice Krispie treats (cheap and effective quick carbs).
If you're riding self-supported, a CamelBak or hydration bladder can be helpful.
Eat a carb-heavy breakfast before the ride—you’ll regret skipping it.
• Pace Yourself
The first 10 miles include nearly 3,000 feet of climbing and can sneak up on you. Avoid riding above your FTP unless you're very well trained.
Take breaks to enjoy the scenery—the views are incredible, and it’s a good opportunity to fuel.
Stay seated and spin whenever possible. Prioritize cadence over raw power.
If you're self-supported, pace your nutrition carefully. Bottles can be refilled at the general store in Summerhaven near the top.
• Bike Rental
If you need a rental, check out Fair Wheel Cycles on the University of Arizona campus.
They offer a great selection of high-end bikes, including road, gravel, and mountain options.
The customer service is excellent, and overall it’s a fantastic shop for rentals, service, and sales.
Revised for clarity using Claude AI
The Hike:
Two days after the ride, I found myself back at the base of the Santa Catalina Mountains. This time I was preparing to climb from Catalina State Park. The route was mostly unknown to me aside from what I could find on AllTrails, which honestly was not much. My mom and I started moving through the low desert around 7:15 in the morning. It was a cool 60 degrees, and the mountain blocked the sun just enough to keep us in the shade as we began the climb.
Not long into the hike we reached the first small sections of technical climbing. It was at this point that I realized this probably was not going to be much of a trail run. It was going to be a proper hike. Nevertheless, I was ready for it. My mom was absolutely crushing those early technical sections too. I even handed her my trekking poles for a bit to make things easier.
We stayed together until about mile two. That is when I felt ready to pick up the pace and start pushing toward the summit. She gave me a sip from her CamelBak, took my morning jacket to bring back down to the car, and we split off. From there, I was on my own for the climb.
At that point we were both a little confused about something on the map called Romero Pools. We could not find them anywhere along the trail. It turns out they were actually another half mile down the canyon, which I discovered shortly afterward. I was a little disappointed my mom had not made it down there with me because they were beautiful, but I made sure to take a photo before continuing on.
From there the route turned into a long climb through the middle of the canyon. The trail constantly weaved through the stream, crossed rock bridges, and even required walking across fallen trees. I honestly had a lot of fun with this section, though I knew my quads might pay for it later. They absolutely did.
As the morning went on, the canyon started getting very sunny and extremely hot, especially with almost no breeze moving through it. I was sweating heavily and began to wonder whether I had brought enough water to last the entire climb.
The stretch between mile 2.75 and mile 4.75 gains roughly 1,000 feet of vertical elevation, and the combination of creek crossings, uneven footing, and sustained climbing started to make my ankles pretty sore. It was concerning for a moment, but I was determined to keep moving.
Throughout the climb I would occasionally pull out my phone and record short videos, documenting my progress and showing how dramatically the terrain changed as I gained elevation. One thing kept motivating me the entire way. I thought it would be incredibly cool to reach the top of Mt. Lemmon both on the bike and on my own two feet during the same trip.
One of the coolest moments of the hike came around 10:58 that morning, roughly three hours after starting. I reached a split in the trail that led toward Mount Lemmon. The location itself was incredible. It felt like standing on a natural bridge between two worlds. On one side I could see the entire park stretching out below. On the other I could look out over Oro Valley, which gave me a real sense of how high I had already climbed.
By this point I knew it was going to be a long day. The saguaros were slowly disappearing as I climbed higher, but the temperature refused to drop. The sun just kept beating down.
Thankfully I had prepared somewhat for the heat. I was wearing Rab hiking pants, which kept me cool while protecting my legs from sharp plants and rocks. I also wore my Arc’teryx long sleeve and an Arc hat, which helped block some of the sun. What I forgot, unfortunately, was sunscreen. My hands got absolutely torched by the Arizona sun and even swelled up a bit over the next few days.
My Black Diamond trekking poles played a huge role in helping me finish the climb in about six hours and thirty minutes. I picked them up at an REI resale event. TSA had broken them during travel, so they are literally taped together now, but they still worked well enough to get the job done.
Eventually I reached another overlook above Oro Valley and decided it was time for a proper break. I sat down to refuel and give my legs a chance to recover. By then I could feel the sun really cooking the back of my neck, so I decided to pull up my neck gaiter and cover my cheeks as well.
The problem was that covering up made me significantly hotter. I felt stuck between two bad options. I could let the sun keep pounding my face, or trap more heat and risk drying myself out faster. In the end, I chose to stay covered and keep moving.
From about mile six onward, the trail becomes extremely technical and demanding on the feet. By this point everything was starting to feel sore. Thankfully my Salomon trail pack never felt heavy, which was a huge relief after so many hours on the trail.
Around mile nine, I ran out of water. That was definitely concerning, especially since AllTrails said the total route was around 13 miles. After climbing for nearly five hours, I finally reached mile eleven. From there I could see how close I was getting, but the trail was still throwing steep switchbacks at me.
Then something unexpected happened. I came across a freshwater spring.
At that point I was extremely thirsty and starting to feel a little desperate, so I made the call to drink from it. I definitely do not recommend doing that, but in that moment it felt necessary. It also adds a little lore to the story.
After finally reaching the summit, I realized I could not even text my parents to come pick me up because there was no service. So the next step was obvious. Keep hiking.
The route down from the summit toward Summerhaven ended up being another 3.1 miles, descending nearly 1,500 feet along a winding road. By the time I reached the bottom my feet were incredibly sore, but I could not help thinking how cool it was to have crossed so much of the mountain in so many different ways.
Once I reached the general store in Summerhaven, I celebrated the only way that felt right. I grabbed a tallboy Coors Light and a pack of jerky and sat outside for a while enjoying the moment. A small family nearby started asking about the hike. They were blown away by the distance and could not believe someone my age had just done it.
Eventually my parents arrived and drove us back down the mountain.
According to my Wahoo watch and AllTrails, the hike totaled 17 miles, with 7,372 feet of climbing and 2,579 feet of descent, all completed over about eight hours.
It was an incredible experience and one I would absolutely recommend, with one warning. If you are a beginner or not in strong hiking shape, this route can be very challenging and technical. It demands constant attention and endurance.
For experienced hikers, though, it is an amazing route that gives you a full tour of the Arizona landscape while climbing one of the most iconic mountains in the Southwest.
If you’re looking to climb Mt. Lemmon from the Romero Canyon Trail to the Mount Lemmon #5 Trail:
• Water
Bring more water than you think you will need. It is a very long day and the heat can sneak up on you quickly.
Consider carrying 2–3 liters minimum, and more if temperatures are high.
A hydration bladder (CamelBak style) makes drinking while moving much easier.
• Navigation
I used AllTrails, which worked great, especially with the offline map downloaded.
Still bring a paper map in case your phone dies or you lose service.
A compass is a good lightweight backup so you can properly read the map if needed.
• Clothing
Cover your skin. The Arizona sun is intense and there is very little shade for long stretches.
Wear hiking pants. There are plenty of spiky plants and rough rock that will shred bare legs.
A long sleeve sun shirt helps protect your arms and neck.
Bring a light morning layer if you start early since the desert can be cool before sunrise.
• Trekking Poles
Trekking poles help reduce strain on your back and knees during long climbs and descents.
They also help with balance on technical rock sections and creek crossings.
• Nutrition
Bring plenty of gels or quick carbohydrates so you do not fall into a hypoglycemic episode.
Easy options include gels, shot blocks, rice crispy treats, or bars.
Eat consistently throughout the climb even if you do not feel hungry.
• Sun Protection
Do not forget sunscreen. I forgot and my hands paid for it.
A hat and neck gaiter can help protect your face and neck during exposed sections.
• Pack Essentials
Bring your wallet and some cash in case you end up in Summerhaven and want food or supplies.
A small pocket knife or multitool is useful to carry in the backcountry.
A small first aid kit can help with blisters or minor cuts.
• Plan Your Descent
Have a plan for getting down the mountain.
If you summit near Mount Lemmon, you may still need to hike several miles to reach Summerhaven or a pickup point.
Without a ride arranged, the trip can easily turn into a much longer day than expected.
• Fitness Level
This route is long, technical, and physically demanding.
Beginners should approach it cautiously or consider shorter sections first.
For experienced hikers or trail runners, it is an incredible route that showcases a huge range of Arizona terrain.
