Superstition Mountain, Haunted?

When I first heard about Superstition mountain in Arizona, I was only mildly impressed. Oh sure, the pictures I saw were great. I saw that there was a stream running in the middle of it, and heard that the steep climb to the highest peak was challenging. However, how many mountains cannot say that? Is there a mountain with an unchallenging peak?

However, a few months later I heard another description of it from another person. This version piqued my interest a bit more. He described it as a 'haunted' mountain. Ghosts? Roaming spirits?

No man, UFO's.

Now, I'm not a superstitious person. I do not believe in ghosts and only allow a slight possibility that aliens exist somewhere out there. However, how many mountains have a reputation for being haunted, not only by ghosts but by UFO's?

It is my experience that when places are called haunted, it is for a convincing reason. Perhaps certain kinds of winds blow through the mountain, creating weird sounds. Perhaps sound travels from nearby cities into it, if that is even possible. I'm just grasping at straws. Perhaps there are aliens within it.

Even then, it was not the story of the mountain itself but a particularly boring weekend that convinced me to check the superstition mountains out. I managed to convince another friend to come with me through threats of impending boredom. She obliged.

We set up camp near the foot of the mountain. There is a small entry and camping fee, as is usual with most Arizona natural parks. I briefly wondered about collusion between these would-be aliens and the management; the latter provided the attraction, the other provided the employment.

Hey, anything in this economy, right?

We then made a tentative hike. Mind, this is in the middle of winter, and so it was freezing. Those who have never been to Arizona would probably find this strange, but it gets really cold in winter. Plumbing has been known to explode due to the water freezing within it. It was cold even during the day, but the hike indeed proved to be challenging, and warmed us up.

The place was beautiful, in an Arizona way. Cacti. Rocks. Cacti, rocks, the occasional gravel. Within the mountain itself, a stream did run; I was tempted to drink from it when I remembered what me and my childhood friends did whenever we saw streams (Hint: The reverse of drinking) of this kind. So I didn't.

After ascertaining that there was nothing to be gained from going to the peak, we went back to camp. After doing usual camp stuff, which in this case was listening to music from headphones, eating heated spaghetti, and then brushing my teeth in the nearby walled restroom, we went to sleep.

I was kind of excited about what kind of haunting was going to take place.

The haunting of nothing.

Looking back, I didn't really believe there was going to be anything. My nose frozen, shivering under three layers of clothing, we drank coffee and complained about the night. Cold, scratching noises, none of them alien-like. What is an alien-like noise, anyway?

We packed up before lunch so we can check out the nearby tourist attraction.

It was advertised as a 'ghost town.'