Illustration by Holly Randall

Last weekend, one of my friends from back East paid me a visit. In my excitement, I wanted to give her the whole Tucson experience: a campus tour, getting robbed by a homeless man, getting whistled at by a Ford Explorer full of drunks, eating fake Mexican at Chipotle. You know, the works.

And we did do some of those things, but the highlight was spending Saturday on Mount Lemmon. Let me tell you, though · it's not just something you decide to do on the fly. The mountain is a wild space just barely tamed by asphalt and sweaty men in orange construction vests; lurking behind every picnic table and informational sign is danger. Extreme danger.

If you don't want to be Mount Lemmon's next victim, you should take a few necessary precautions. Some are more basic, and are taught in any introductory wilderness course. For instance, though cactuses may look like they are "waving at you" and "beckoning you toward them," they should NOT be hugged or petted under any circumstances. They have sharp prickly things on them. (I don't know their scientific name.)

Other important points are to actually find your way to your destination. Road maps usually work well, as does a general idea of the location of the sun, especially when trying to decipher whether you're on a north-south running road or an east-west one. Bringing plenty of water and snacks is a good idea; if you never find your way, they will fuel you as you wait for help. If you do make it to the mountain, they will provide plenty of energy to watch nature roll by outside your car window.

Sabrina Noble Columnist

In addition to snacks, be sure to bring at least one cell phone, some rubber bands and chewing gum. That way, if you should find yourself bloody at the bottom of a ravine, you can disassemble your phone and resourcefully use its contents ÷ along with these everyday items and a couple of twigs ÷ to build a primitive radio to contact rangers up to 15 meters away.

On the way up, you'll likely find that some drivers follow the speed limit like it's a new world religion. Such drivers not only inconvenience you, but also inconvenience all the drivers accumulating behind you. The only thing to do is lean on your horn until the slowpoke pulls, cursing wildly, onto the shoulder. As the new leader, demonstrate that when the roads are paved and lined with steel guardrails, speed limits are only casual suggestions.

Once at the top of the mountain, you'll find ice and snow. For most Arizonans, this is like a mystical wonderland, but you must restrain yourselves; contrary to what seems to be popular belief, an inch of snow sprinkled over a treacherous rocky slope is not satisfactory for sledding. During our trip, we saw the crazy desert dwellers attempt this more than once, never with positive results.

Similarly, do not climb up anything you strongly suspect you won't be able to climb down. Photographs of the unusual rock formations are cool, and are even better when they feature you on top of them. But when happy smiles turn to uncertain frowns, and the sunsets and the early stages of hypothermia set in, you'll realize your Kodak moment was your last. This probably seems obvious to most of you, but you'd be amazed how many weathered bodies you'd find atop Mount Lemmon's geological anomalies if you climbed up and looked. But you won't climb up now, will you?

What's more startling, though, is how many hikers are eaten by bobcats each year. I don't have any statistics, but I'm convinced the number is high, as we saw at least 25 bobcats on our little road trip and all of them were carrying away children. We didn't slow down to ask what they were going to do with them, but I can only assume they weren't going backpacking together. So stay away from bobcats, cats and anyone named Bob. Just for good measure.

As for squirrels and rare birds, you are allowed to feed them crackers and Red Vines, but do not keep them. Wild animals are wild for a reason, and the reason is this: They were born and raised in the wild, and have established little families there. If they end up in your house, they will only mate with your dogs or order lots of stuff on the Internet using your credit card. They don't know any better; they're wild.

In short, if you just respect Mother Nature's power, you can have a great, safe time. And if there's one thing we college students want, it's a great, safe time.

Sabrina Noble is a senior majoring in English and creative writing. She likes to think of herself as a "true outdoorsman." She can be reached at letters@wildcat.arizona.edu.