It's another perfect day in the valley of the sun late one afternoon in August, but today is special. I've been invited to a private location hosted by a dear friend, along with another 20-or so 'experiencers' to share our knowledge of the unexplained and try to connect with the unusual energy surrounding the mysterious Superstition Mountains...
Driving east out of Phoenix, US Highway 60 passes along the south side of Sky Harbor International Airport and over a bridge traversing the Salt River, running concurrently with US I-10. Once over the river, the freeway continues towards the east through Tempe, passing by its wonderful outdoor Marketplace. After the curve, I-10 and US 60 part ways with I-10 continuing towards the south and US 60 now heading east where it then becomes known ominously as the 'Superstition Freeway', so named after the mountains at the freeway terminus.
Continuing on east, we drive through the town of Mesa, past its city limits and into Pinal County and the town of Apache Junction. It is here that Highway 60 ends and we make a sudden turn off onto some less traveled roads and increasingly away from civilization. The mountains are instantly recognizable, jutting out from the desert landscape, pushed up suddenly it would seem, from the very center of the earth itself.
Ask any Phoenix local and they will tell you a dozen or so varied stories about the Superstitions. There are the famous and the infamous. The Legend of the Lost Dutchman Mine is the more common among them – with prospector Jacob Waltz in the late 1880's somehow acquiring a map to an abandoned mine that had once belonged to one of Mexico’s largest mining families. The Superstitions, it was said, was rumored to have veins of gold worth over 200 million dollars! He was said to have found the mine and paid for his things from that day forward in gold. However its exact whereabouts have never been found and many prospectors, from then until now, have lost their lives or simply disappeared in search of the mysterious gold fortune. It's known today as 'The Dutchman’s Curse' and prospector or hiker beware, it's real.
As the sun began to set and the air began to cool, we arranged our chairs in a circle to share introductions, stories and expectations of what the evening might hold for us. The mood was festive as we gave thanks to our host and moved onto a group meditation, aligning with the energy of the environment. There was something about the space which made us feel energized as we then began to laugh, chant, play bongos and chime bells. Our senses were awakened and impressions started pouring in among the group. 'They're here, I can feel them', offered our host. 'I can feel them too, our friends are dancing for us...', offered another, as we spread out among the Sonoran grass foothills of the mountains, being careful to avoid cactus at all cost in the diminishing light.
Long before more modern-day prospectors arrived digging for gold, indigenous tribes viewed the Superstitions as sacred. The Hopi tell of their significance in their creation stories, where the first humans are said to have came up from the underground city of Palatkwapi, through portals hidden deep within the mountains themselves. From these secret portals they entered the Fourth World, the world in which we all live today, and where it is said the portals still exist, moving people from one place to another, shifting time and the very nature of reality as we know it.
We don't venture out too far as a result, all of us well aware of such legends, and certainly do not even consider hiking the mountain itself. By now it was dark, and we had stetted back to our retreat with the chairs so arranged to view the mountains now silhouetted in a rich burgundy-red. Our host said for us to focus love toward the mountains and we all stared at them together in doe-eyed appreciation. As we had been looking at the peeks it appeared as if some small boulders had dotted the tops like soldiers guarding a fortress. There was no movement, but it did seem like they had not been their before or at least we had not noticed them. And then it happened. A beautiful white light appeared at the edge of one of the peeks. It was much larger and brighter than any light from a plane, and it moved decidedly, but unsteadily tracing its way along the mountain peek from right to left. It was inexplicable. It was huge, and it was moving. There was no way that a man-made light source could have be up there of that size and in that location, let alone getting a man to traverse up and along the mountain-peeks to carry it. The light never left the mountain-top – so it was definitely not a plane, and the site itself was completely inaccessible to any kind of vehicle for it to be mistaken as headlights.
In short, it was a UFO. We all could sense an emanation of love being transmitted from this light, and it was as if it were an acknowledgment that this is indeed a portal, perhaps even a star-gate to other dimensions, and our intergalactic friends were merely saying 'Hello'. And we were thrilled, because we got to say 'hello' in return. It was a wonderful sighting and experience for us all.
It's been said that the hot desert can play tricks on the mind. There are stories too of the secret underground tunnels running beneath the mountains, and an old military trail supposedly shrouded in government conspiracy of the highest order. But there was no doubt about what we were all able to witness that night. We all saw the light appear and move, and do its gentle dance for us along the mountaintop for about three minutes, before it quickly dimmed and disappeared behind Weaver's Needle, the peek of rock rising 4,553 feet at the left side of the mountain.
It was for us yet another tale of the unexplained. But for me, I was fortunate enough to have experienced the exact same phenomenon, together with my host and a smaller group of people, about a month earlier. It was the same type of light, hovering along the mountaintop. Spend enough time out there, and even the most skeptical will come to believe that there is something 'other-worldly' going on up in them thar hills! Just be sure, however, you don't go drinkin' none of that moonshine, and think of venturing out alone, or you may never come back to tell of your adventures!