Arizona Highways. April, 2013

              “After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one’s own relatives.” — oscar wilde
esca pe • e x plor e • E x per ience
Best Restaurants 2013
april 2013
PLUS: organ pipe cactus nm • granite mountain • hummingbirds
burro creek • white hills ghost town • and pigeons. Yes, pigeons
lake
powell
A Portfolio By
Gary Ladd
(Our Photographers’ Favorite Places to Eat)
2 JA NUA RY 2 0 1 3 w w w. w . a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 1
5 THE JOURNAL
People, places and things from around the state, including a guy
who buys and sells cockroaches and tarantulas; the Globetrotter
Lodge in Holbrook; band-tailed pigeons (yes, pigeons); and Tuba
City, our hometown of the month.
16 Best Restaurants 2013
There are many wonderful restaurants in Arizona, and every
April, we spotlight some of the best. This month, we’re at it again,
but instead of having an editorial board make the picks, we
enlisted the help of 10 of our favorite food-loving photographers.
by Nikki Buchan an
Photographs by Paul Markow
28 spring WATER
In Arizona, springtime is subtle, and it doesn’t stir up the same
fanfare it does in places like Syracuse, St. Paul and Spokane.
There is a seasonal change, however. Especially in the high coun-try,
where spring snowmelt can alter the landscape. At Lake Pow-ell,
the visual effects are minimal, but come April, you can rest
assured that lake levels are on the rise, and the water is colder
than a witch’s ... refrigerator.
A portfolio by gary ladd
contents 04.13
◗ Ocotillos reach skyward in front
of a butte near Bagdad. | rick
giase CAMERA: nikon D300;
SHUTTER: 1/125 sec; APERTURE:
F/6.3; ISO: 125; FOCAL LENGTH: 28 MM
FRONT COVER Pizzicletta, a Nea-politan
pizzeria, draws rave reviews
from Flagstaff locals and visitors. | paul
markow CAMERA: Canon eos-1ds Mark
iii; SHUTTER: 30 sec; APERTURE: F/13; ISO: 100;
FOCAL LENGTH: 24 MM
BACK COVER Boulders and a tree stump punc-tuate
a sunset reflection in Lake Powell’s Fence
Canyon. | gary ladd CAMERA: Tachihara 4x5;
film: velvia 100; SHUTTER: 1/4 sec; APERTURE:
F/18; ISO: 100; FOCAL LENGTH: 210 MM
Photographic Prints Available Prints of some photographs in this issue are available for purchase. To view options, visit www.arizona highwaysprints.com. For more information, call 866-962-1191.
2 Editor’s Letter > 3 Contributors > 4 Letters to the Editor > 56 where is this?
40 The Power of Life
in a Very Hot Place
A poignant dissertation on life, death and difficult renewal
in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, a humbling place
where “a short walk can take you out of this century and into
a deep well of time.”
An Essay by Charles Bowden
Photographs by Jack Dykinga
46 LITTLE BIRDS
Southeastern Arizona is considered the hummingbird capital
of the United States. As many as 15 species can be found
there, making it a mecca, of sorts, for birds and bird-watchers
alike. However, recent fires, floods and freezing temperatures
dramatically altered the little birds’ habitat, as well as their
population. Readers were worried, so we sent our writer south
to check it out.
By matt jaffe
photographs by bruce d. taubert
• Points of interest in this iss ue
Grand Canyon
National Park
Ramsey Canyon
Prescott
Tucson
Holbrook
Tuba City
Cameron
Jerome
PHOENIX
Organ Pipe Cactus
National Monument
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50 Active Voice
Bobbie Holaday has spent more than three decades as an
advocate for wolves and wilderness areas. Through compro-mise,
compassion and unflinching determination, she’s been a
voice for those who have none. She’s also a living testament to
how much can be accomplished in life after the age of 65.
By Annette McGivney
Photograph by mark duran
52 SCENIC DRIVE
Burro Creek Crossing Road: The payoff on this scenic drive is
the lush riparian habitat of Burro Creek, but the Joshua trees,
saguaros and endless vistas make it something special from
the get-go.
54 HIKE OF THE MONTH
Granite Mountain: The centerpiece of this hike is the mountain
for which it’s named, but just as impressive are the surround-ing
piles of 2-billion-year-old boulders the size of boxcars.
Lake Powell
w w w. 2 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 3
contributors
Matt Jaffe
Matt Jaffe’s fascination with hum-mingbirds
(see Little Birds, page
46) started a few years ago when
he observed them with naturalist
Mark Pretti. “It’s amazing to realize
that [Southern] Arizona is a meeting
ground for species from as far away
as Central America,” he says. Jaffe
was also surprised to learn how much
food the sprightly little birds put
down. “I lost my collegiate metabo-lism
a long time ago, so I’m envious
of how much hummingbirds can eat,”
Jaffe says. “I read that if they were the
size of a human being, hummingbirds
would consume about 155,000 calories per day.” Jaffe has written two books about environ-ment
and culture. His work has also appeared in Sunset, Budget Travel and Los Angeles
magazine. This is his first story for Arizona Highways. — Kayla Frost
Gary Ladd
To most people, Lake Powell is
a place to kick back on a house-boat
or zip around on water
skis. Or a place of loss — a result
of Glen Canyon Dam disrupting
the natural flow of the Colo-rado
River. But to landscape
photographer Gary Ladd, Lake
Powell is “a photographer’s
paradise,” as you’ll see in Spring
Water, page 28. Ladd is drawn
to the beautiful, constantly
changing nature of the reservoir. Because the water level fluctuates, sometimes by 100 feet or
more, “nobody has seen Lake Powell in all of its different expressions over the years, and all of
its different arms,” he says. Ladd is a longtime contributor to Arizona Highways. He’s currently
working on a book about geology, with photos that focus on Glen Canyon National Recreation
Area, Vermilion Cliffs National Monument and the Grand Canyon.
Nikki Buchanan
In 1984, Nikki Buchanan lived in Los Angeles and
dreamed of becoming a food writer. When she told
one of her friends, “he just laughed and said, ‘Great,
fat chance of that,’ ” Buchanan says. But within a
month, she heard an ad on the radio that Phoenix
New Times was hiring a restaurant critic. She got the
position. Since then, she’s been wining and dining
her way across Arizona, even when she’s not on
assignment. “I can’t resist going out to eat,” she says.
Besides frequently contributing to Arizona Highways,
including Best Restaurants 2013 (see page 16).
Buchanan writes for “Chow Bella,” the New Times’
food blog; Zagat Survey; Food & Wine; and other publications.
editor’s letter
800-543-5432 www.arizonahighways.com
a p r i l 2 0 1 3 VO L . 8 9, N O . 4
Produced in the USA
Raymond Carlson was a pilgrim.
Of sorts. His name wasn’t on the
manifest of the Mayflower, but
for 33 years it was at the top of the mast-head
of this magazine, and like those
puritans who landed at Plymouth Rock,
he wandered into a foreign place and
stumbled upon something sacred.
When Mr. Carlson took over as editor
in 1938, Arizona Highways was primarily an
engineering journal, with lifeless stories
such as High Speed Has Changed Modern Road
Requirements and Phoenix to Yuma Highway
Now Completely Surfaced, and full-page
ads for things like Armco Corrugated
Pipe, Caterpillar Diesels and Resiliflex
Highway Guards — “It never shatters on
impact; never endangers travelers’ lives.”
Presumably, somebody was read-ing
those stories and responding to
those ads, but Raymond (he would have
objected to my use of “Mr. Carlson” in
the last paragraph) envisioned something
more. “He dropped the engineering,”
Editor Gary Avey eulogized in our April
1983 issue, “and let the scenic grandeur
of Arizona spill across the magazine’s
pages. He told Arizona’s story in his own
easygoing style and gathered around him
in this purpose some of the most creative
talent of the era. The love of his land and
its people permeated every page.”
Lately, I’ve been revisiting some of
those pages. It’s a guilty pleasure to flip
through the old issues, look at the layouts,
compare the photographs and read the
stories. One of those stories, published 50
years ago, almost to the day, illustrates
the editorial prowess of Raymond Carl-son.
The story is titled High Winter, and it
traces the life of a snowflake. It’s just one
example of what Raymond brought to the
magazine, and it begins like this: “The
cold winter wind blew in from the north.
The wind came from beyond the Bering
Sea, from across the harsh lands of Sibe-ria,
from any of a thousand places in the
Arctic where winter winds begin. ... Here
a snowflake, eventually to fall later in the
high country of Arizona, was born.”
It’s a beautiful piece, and we’re proud
to bring it back, five decades later.
Although the nature
of snowflakes hasn’t
changed much since
that story was first
published, so many
other things have, and
that’s the gist of this
month’s cover story.
If you’ve been with
us awhile, you might
remember that we did
a “then and now” port-folio
two years ago. As
we were putting that
collection together, we
marveled at how dif-ferent
things look today, compared to as
little as 20 or 30 years ago. Turns out, you
were intrigued, too, and that’s why we’re
at it again. Like last time, we marveled as
we compiled the old black-and-whites and
paired them with their present-day coun-terparts.
All of the combos are interesting,
but the one that stands out most is U.S.
Highway 60 between Phoenix and Mesa.
You won’t believe what it used to look
like, especially if you’re part of the infan-try
that battles rush hour on that freeway
every day.
The cover combination is worth noting,
as well. Not because of a drastic difference
between then and now, but because the
car in the “now” shot doesn’t really belong
there. What used to be a driveway up to
the Bright Angel Lodge is now a sidewalk
— the pavement and the cars are long
gone. In spite of that, the National Park
Service allowed us to sneak a Ford Mus-tang
up there for our photo shoot. Hats
off to Superintendent Dave Uberuaga, and
everyone on his staff who helped make
that photograph possible. We’re grateful.
Not far from the BA Lodge is a place
called Royal Arch. It’s a place that looks
a lot like it did when Raymond took the
reins of Arizona Highways in 1938 — in fact,
it probably hasn’t changed at all in a mil-lion
years. It’s also a place that few people
ever get to see. And for good reason. “The
Grand Canyon is not a landscape where
hikers should just strike out in any direc-tion,”
Annette McGivney writes in Arch
Rival. “It’s a relentlessly
steep obstacle course
that descends 5,000 feet
from rim to river, and in
most places, the eleva-tion
drops like an eleva-tor
shaft — 300 feet or
even 1,000 feet straight
down.”
The Point Huitzil
route to Royal Arch
epitomizes that com-mandment,
and in her
story, Annette illus-trates
why. As you’ll
see, it’s not a hike for
everyone — “Bipeds are gravitationally
challenged ... make one slip and it could
be curtains.” That said, it’s an ideal trek
for intrepid adventurers, and this time
of year is a good time to do it. You prob-ably
won’t see a lot of snowflakes at the
bottom, but if you do, think about High
Winter, and the possibilities of where
those snowflakes came for. And then, on
Thursday, November 22, think about and
be thankful for a pilgrim named Ray-mond
Carlson, without whom, we might
still be doing stories about blacktop and
road graders.
paul markow
Everybody Loved Raymond
robert stieve, editor
Follow me on Twitter: @azhighways
If you like what you see in this
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Emmy Award-winning program
hosted by former news anchor Robin
Sewell. For broadcast times, visit
our website, www.arizonahighways.
com, and click the Arizona Highways
Television link on our home page.
ellen barnes
credit tk
TK
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Publisher Win Holden
Editor Robert Stieve
Managing Editor Kelly Vaughn Kramer
senior associate Editor Kathy Ritchie
associate Editor Noah Austin
Editorial Administrator Nikki Kimbel
Photography Editor Jeff Kida
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Letters to the Editor editor@arizonahighways.com
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Members Kelly O. Anderson
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w w w. 4 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 5
adriel heisey
rstieve@arizonahighways.com
February 2013
never too old
I read with great interest the article To Hellsgate and
Back [February 2013]. I’m too old to attempt this
hike, but found the article exciting. I didn’t start
hiking until I moved to Arizona three years ago.
I’ve found that Arizona is quite a diverse state for
hiking. I took my first hike in the spring of 2009
with a friend who has hiked the area for 15 years.
I’m 82 and she’s 76. We try to hike every weekend.
I’ve enjoyed every hike we’ve taken the past three
years.
Ronald Wright, Mesa, Arizona
letters to the editor
contact us If you have thoughts or com-ments
about anything in Arizona Highways, we’d
love to hear from you. We can be reached at editor@
arizonahighways.com, or by mail at 2039 W. Lewis
Avenue, Phoenix, AZ 85009. For more information,
visit www.arizonahighways.com.
happy customer
Just a note of congratulations on the
January and February 2013 covers
of Arizona Highways. In addition, the
February portfolio [Awe Naturel] alone
kept my wife and me renewing for
another year. The article about Jeremy
Rowe [History Major] is a classic, too. Also,
you were bold to publish the natural his-tory
article about rattlesnakes [This Bites!].
Most state magazines would hesitate to
do that, because it might reduce tourism.
Ken Highfill, Lawrence, Kansas
snake bites
Being a former docent at the Arizona
Sonora Desert Museum, and a Montanan,
I’m very aware of definitions and
descriptions when it comes to our natural
wonders, whether it be geology, animals
or any other category concerning our
precious Arizona. I read Arizona Highways
from cover to cover and back. Therefore, I
couldn’t miss the introductory paragraph
in To Hellsgate and Back [February 2013],
which stated, “... a willingness to endure
triple-digit temperatures, hungry bears,
poisonous snakes.” I’m amazed your edi-tors
didn’t catch that reference and cor-rect
it to “venomous snakes.”
Jean Dundas, Tucson
Sweet Jesus. There needed to be some
sort of heads-up about the snake pho-tos
in the this month’s issue [This Bites!],
February 2013]. I flipped it open and
almost peed myself. That one with the
snake blending into the dirt is going to
sit in my brain all night.
Meghan Lambert, Camarillo, California
high praise
I just saw the article Ode to the Roads
[January 2013]. As a cowboy photo col-lector,
Karen Shell’s image of Tony
Buckman, the rodeo cowboy, was
extremely impressive!
Mike [Surname], Killeen, Texas
big fan
I enjoyed reading Joe Brown’s reminis-cence
of the “King of Cool” [On Location
With Steve McQueen, January 2013]. He’s
probably my favorite actor, so I’ve seen
almost all of his movies. McQueen always
seemed so smooth, natural and easygoing
in his roles. It’s nice to learn that he was
just as down-to-earth in real life.
Pete Kurtz, Cincinnati
more questions
A big reason we’ve subscribed to Arizona
Highways for decades is the appealing mix
of Arizona history and scenes, and current
events and photos. The sketch and photo
of Frances Munds in the January 2013
issue is a prime example. We finished
wanting to know more, including whether
she was part of the family after which
Munds Park, south of Flagstaff, is named.
Marilyn & Dick Kemp, Phoenix
a gift from saddlebrook
Your January 2013 issue was one of the
best ever — full of great stories and his-tory.
I’ve been blessed to receive your
magazine through the generosity of my
little sister, a resident of Saddlebrook,
outside of Tucson. Through your articles
and superb photography, coupled with
our occasional visits to Arizona, we’re
able to capture the beauty and broad
expanse of your state.
Jack Weihl, McMillan, Michigan
classic car
For years I’ve subscribed to Arizona
Highways, and I enjoy each magazine thor-oughly.
In your November 2012 issue, on
page 23, there’s a photograph of Whiskey
Row in Prescott that piqued my interest.
In 1957, my father, my uncle and I were
building power lines north of Prescott. I
was living at Granite Dells Trailer Park.
In your photograph, there’s a 1957 Pontiac
and a 1956 pickup. I believe the Pontiac
belonged to my parents, due to the fact
there was no other car like theirs in town.
That picture brought back many memo-ries,
as I was 21 years old at the time.
Joe Bush, Baker City, Oregon
same tattoo
The article on Olive Oatman [Blue in the
Face, February 2013] was interesting to
me because I watched a show on televi-sion
last year called Hell On Wheels, which
was supposed to be about the building of
the railroad across the American West.
What was interesting to me is that one of
the girls has the exact same tattoo as Ms.
Oatman on her chin. Of course, I’m sure
hers was painted on for the show, and
wasn’t real like Ms. Oatman’s.
Marie Locklin, Titusville, Florida
THE JOURNAL 04.13
hometowns > local favorites > history > photography > odd jobs
dining > nature > lodging > things to do
The hole
picture
The sun illuminates a sandstone cliff
through a window-like rock formation
in Northeastern Arizona. The forma-tion
bears no name in the topographic
names database, and “even the location
doesn’t have an easily recognized iden-tity,”
according to aerial photographer
Adriel Heisey. “Any of these would be
roughly correct: Black Mountain, Chinle
Valley or Carson Mesa.”
CAMERA: pentax 645; SHUTTER: 1/250 SEC; APERTURE:
F/8; ISO: 800; FOCAL LENGTH: 100 MM
6 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 7 T H E J O U R N A L
mark lipczynski
The Navajo name for Tuba City — Naneesdizí — trans-lates
to “Tangled Waters.” So named because of below-ground
springs that provide water to an otherwise arid
Painted Desert, it lies in the western region of the Navajo
Nation, not far from the eastern entrance to Grand Canyon
National Park. Although Tuba City is predominantly popu-lated
by Navajos, it was named for Hopi leader Tuuvi, who
invited Mormon pioneers to settle near Moenkopi. Today,
the town boasts a number of tourist attractions, including
the Explore Navajo Interactive Museum and a series of
dinosaur tracks 5 miles west of the city center. And, as
with so many Arizona towns, football is the king of high-school
sports. The Warriors of Tuba City High School went
3-11 last season. — Kelly Vaughn Kramer
tuba city
Navajo Nation, www.navajo-nsn.gov;
Explore Navajo Interactive Museum, www.explorenavajo.com
Cameron Trading Post is located 54 miles north of
Flagstaff on U.S. Route 89. For more information,
call 800-338-7385 or visit www.camerontrading
post.com.
Cameron Trading Post, which has served
travelers on their way to the Grand Canyon
for nearly 100 years, is a one-stop shop: a
lodge, restaurant, gallery, gas station and
gift shop. Longtime manager Jimmy Jensen
says visitors often stop by for unique Native
American crafts, such as intricate kachina
dolls that took six months to carve and
handmade sterling-silver jewelry.
Talk about the crafts you sell.
They are handmade and one of a kind. We
make sure crafts are made by Native Ameri-cans.
We have a person whose only job is to
go out and see artisans make jewelry, buy it
and bring it to the store.
Are there any risks to buying Native
American jewelry at the Trading Post?
If customers purchase Native American
jewelry, and if something were to happen
to the piece, they can send it back to us and
we’ll send it back to the silversmith to have
it fixed.
How have the demographics of your
visitors changed over the years?
We’ve had a lot more European, Chinese
and Japanese visitors — a lot fewer Ameri-cans.
Maybe their money is better. Most of
them are visiting the Grand Canyon, about
30 minutes away. If you’re headed that
way, Cameron’s the last big stop before the
South Rim. — kayla frost
local favorites
Cameron
trading post
Cameron
  hometowns  
Founded
1872
Area
8.9 square miles
E l e vat ion
4,960 feet
Count y
Coconino
don b. stevenson
8 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 9 T H E J O U R N A L To learn more about photography, visit www.arizonahighways.com/photography.asp.
  photography  
paul markow
The Hills Aren’t Alive
In its heyday, White Hills was a bustling mining town. But like a lot
of others, it went bust — and fast. Today, all that remain
are a few crumbling foundations and a historical marker.
  history  
If you look toward White Hills,
you won’t see much. But back
in its heyday, it was a thriv-ing
mining town in Mohave
County, not far from Kingman.
According to a story by C.E.
Cooley in the February 1948
issue of Arizona Highways, White
Hills was founded in 1892 after
an Indian showed his prospector
friend “pretty colored rocks.”
Turns out those “rocks” were, in
fact, silver ore. The prospector
promptly staked his claim.
Shortly after the discovery
was reported, the area became
a boomtown, with settlers stak-ing
their own claims. Homes
were built, along with stores,
a school, a post office and,
of course, saloons. Nothing
deterred the town’s growth, not
even the lack of water, which
had to be hauled in. “The mines
were booming, and building
continued,” Cooley wrote. “New
streets were laid out in anticipation of a larger city. Money was
plentiful and rolling in from all sides.”
White Hills was a gleaming city in the desert.
Over a six-year period, the town prospered, netting some
$12 million in gold and silver. Eventually, though, the silver and
gold yields dwindled, the cost of living skyrocketed and, in
1899, a flood devastated the mine shafts.
Today, White Hills is a ghost town, and the only reminders
of its existence are a few building foundations and a historical
marker. — andre a crandall
mohave museum
50 Years Ago
■ On April 1, 1931, ARIZONA HIGHWAYS
President Herbert
Hoover establishes
Canyon de Chelly
National Monu-ment
to preserve
its 4,000-year-old
archaeological
resources.
■ The Battle of
Picacho Pass — the
only Arizona-based
battle of the Civil War
— takes place on April
15, 1862.
■ State offices are
closed on April 15,
1915, as thousands
of people gather to
witness the first spill-age
of water over the
Roosevelt Dam in the
Salt River Valley.
■ On April 16, 1912,
Lee William “Flame”
Delhi from Harqua-hala
(now a ghost
town) becomes the
first Arizonan to play
in a Major League
Baseball game.
■ Charles Debrille
Poston is born on
April 20, 1825. Poston
is known as the “Fa-ther
of Arizona” for
his efforts in lobbying
for the creation of the
Territory.
Petrified Forest National
Park was the focus of
our April 1963 issue.
Arizona’s 31st national
park contains the world’s
largest and most color-ful
petrified wood. The
wood, millions of years
old, displays fossils and
petroglyphs.
this
month
in history
additional
Reading
Look for our book
Arizona Highways
Photography
Guide, available
at bookstores
and www.shop
arizonahighways.
com/books.
One of the most difficult
scenes to photograph
is a landscape with a
bright sky. Photogra-phers
often choose
whether to expose for
the sky or for the fore-ground,
sacrificing one
for the other. However,
by using a graduated
neutral density filter,
the over-bright por-tion
of a scene can
be slightly darkened.
These filters transition
from a neutral density
to clear glass, and they
can darken a sky a few
notches while allowing
the foreground to re-main
perfectly exposed.
Neutral
Density
PHOTO
TIP
The population of White Hills peaked at 1,500 during the gold and silver boom.
Making Light of the Situation
Paul Markow began his professional career more than 40 years ago, shooting corporate and commercial assignments. Much of his early work was studio-based
and dependent on powerful strobes with light modifiers. Grids, snoots, soft boxes and octaboxes are just as important as his cameras, but with
changes in the economy and technology, Paul’s had to adjust his shooting and lighting style. The photos on this page are a good illustration. Paul arrived
for an assignment at Renee’s Organic Oven in Tucson at 10:30 a.m., long past the window for “magic light.” He quickly scouted the interior and realized that
much of the décor was black, making any indoor photograph a challenge. Although the light wasn’t great outside, Paul thought he could make the shoot
work — but with some modifications. He decided on his camera angle, arranged a table and hung a sheet of diffusion material, which would soften the
sunlight and give some dimension to the frame. He then placed a shiny board to the right of the table and used it to bounce sunlight onto a background
table he had strategically placed. Paul arranged the pizza and a small white reflector card, which he placed just to the right of the food. Finally, he made
his shot — no big power packs or softboxes, just a simple set of tools and a little bit of vision. — Jeff Kida, photo editor
Photographing Renee’s Organic Oven required a fair amount of planning by Paul Markow.
It included a sketch of his setup, as well as the use of special lighting. CAMERA: canon
1ds mkIII; SHUTTER: 1/200 sec; APERTURE: F/5; ISO: 100; FOCAL LENGTH: 50 MM
10 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 11 T H E J O U R N A L
DAWN KISH
Gooty Ornamental (its scientific name is Poe-cilotheria
metallica) is a $700 female tarantula
that’s available for sale at Tucson Reptile Shop.
Owner Kenneth MacNeil, or “Ken the Bug
Guy,” as he’s known, has been selling insects,
arachnids and other creepy crawlers for the past
seven years. “We’ve got tarantulas, scorpions,
centipedes, spiders, millipedes, assassin bugs,
isopods, beetles and roaches,” he says. Roaches?
“It’s a huge hobby, a lot more popular than you’d
think. I probably sell at least 5,000 roaches a
year.” Besides bugs, MacNeil also sells reptiles.
With a business like his, you’d think it would
be tough to find a partner, but MacNeil’s wife,
Georgianna, a.k.a. “The Bug Wife,” is his biggest
supporter. “My wife loves them as much as I do,”
he says. “She’s a big part of the business, and
without her, I couldn’t do it.” — kathy ritchie
Kenneth MacNeil, Tucson
  odd jobs  
For more information about “Ken the Bug Guy,” visit
www.kenthebugguy.com.
bug
guy
12 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 13 T H E J O U R N A L
  nature  
Band-tailed
pigeons
The band-tailed pigeon,
considered the largest
pigeon in North America,
is blue-gray with a white
crescent at the nape of
its neck and a dark gray
band across the top of
its tail. The vegetarian
bird eats fruits, nuts
and seeds, and makes
a one- or two-syllable
cooing sound, similar
to that of an owl. The
pigeon can be found in
the mountain regions of
Arizona from late March
to mid-October, as it
migrates south to
Mexico for the winter.
— andrea crandall
BRUCE D. TAUBERT BRUCE D. TAUBERT
During the spring and summer months, and after
heavy rains, you might hear a deafening chorus
of high-pitched trills. The mating call of the male
Great Plains toad can last up to a minute and is
meant to attract a bevy of female callers.
The gray, brown or green toads can be found across
Arizona, except in the higher mountain regions and the dri-est
portions of the desert. They’re most commonly found
in valleys, mesas, roadside ditches and cattle troughs.
These accomplished burrowers usually emerge around
dusk to forage for insects, including termites and worms.
When threatened, the nocturnal amphibians take deep
breaths and puff themselves up to appear bigger than
they really are. And they’re poisonous, too — if a predator
happens to bite into the toad’s parotid gland, the gland
emits a viscous white liquid, inflaming the predator’s
mouth and causing nausea, an irregular heartbeat and,
sometimes, death.
— an d rea crand a ll
One for the Toad
A female can
lay up to 20,000
eggs at a time.
The Great Plains
toad has a white
or cream-colored
spotless stomach.
The toad has
large blotches
on its skin.
The blotches
contain several
warts.
When threatened,
it attempts to
appear bigger by
puffing itself up.
nature factoid
Costa Doing Business
It’s a long way from Bolivia to Jerome, but Vladimir Costa made it.
Now, the chef-owner of 15.Quince Grill and Cantina is taking his “food is life”
philosophy and spreading it to taco-hungry tourists and regulars alike.
15.Quince Grill and Cantina in Jerome
isn’t just a restaurant, it’s the realization
of one man’s imagination. In March 2009,
chef-owner Vladimir Costa
opened Quince in what
once was the state’s first
Safeway store, and if the little hidden
gem is Wonderland, Costa is Alice.
“Everything you see [here] is my
vision,” he says. “I don’t have partners. I
don’t have consultants. It all comes from
my mind.”
Turquoise-colored walls are covered
in crosses and ornately decorated steer
skulls. Images of Frida Kahlo and the
Virgen de Guadalupe occupy wall and table
space. Day of the Dead keepsakes are
scattered throughout. There’s meaning
in every detail. Even the name Quince is
significant — according to Costa, the
number represents humility.
At lunchtime, Quince is packed, and
it’s easy to get lost in the cacophony. The
kitchen is just a few feet away, and
dishes clank, pots bang and laughter
erupts from almost every table. Costa’s
New Mexican-style cuisine is exqui-sitely
prepared. Fresh, fragrant and full
of color and flavor, every bite is just a
little bit of heaven.
First-timers should try the fish tacos.
The fish is battered using Full Moon Bel-gian-
style white ale from Mudshark
Brewing Co. in Lake Havasu City. Each
taco — there are three per serving — is
covered with a mango pico de gallo, cab-bage
and sweet pomegranates.
The enchiladas also are incredible —
smoky with enough heat from Hatch
chiles to make them delicious, but not
so much that it overwhelms the dish. Of
course, if you do need to put out a flavor
fire, there’s nothing like one of Costa’s
freshly made margaritas. That is, with
the exception of the Spicy Guera, which
is made with jalapeños.
For the tattooed, Bolivian-born Costa,
food is love. “People don’t think about
what they’re actually putting into their
bodies,” he says. “Food is an after-thought.”
Needless to say, he’s serious
about his craft and everything that
comes out of his kitchen.
“I’m feeding people. That’s where it
starts. I’m feeding a customer, a human
being, a friend, a guest,” he says. “Food
is art. Food is life. Food is love. Food is
family.” — kathy ritchie
jeff kida
15.Quince Grill and Cantina is located at 363 Main Street
in Jerome. For more information, call 928-634-7087 or
visit www.visitjeromeaz.com.
  dining  
jerome
14 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 T H E J O U R N A L
mark lipczynski
  lodging  
Peter and Mona Hoeller and their daughter, Larissa, found the
shadow of Route 66 and its glory days when their around-the-world
travels brought them from Austria to the former Sun n’ Sand Motel in
Holbrook. Like so many Route 66 motels, what once was a welcome
respite for weary travelers had become run-down
and shuttered. When the Hoellers’ time on the road
ended in 2010, they decided to breathe new life into
Holbrook’s slice of Route 66 by transforming the Sun n’ Sand into the
Globetrotter Lodge. Elements of “back home” adorn all 10 rooms, as
well as the lobby, where Peter’s handcrafted furniture came to rest
after making the trek across the Atlantic. German-speaking guests
can curl up with the cherished books that Mona inherited from her
aunt and that fill the bookshelves in each room. But the handmade,
Talavera-inspired bathroom sinks are a reminder that this still is the
American Southwest. Route 66 may be their adoptive home, but
if the myriad license plates in the parking lot are any indication, the
Hoellers have resurrected that fading nostalgia. — Jacki Mieler
The Globetrotter Lodge is located at 902 W. Hopi Drive in Holbrook. For more infor-mation,
call 928-297-0158 or visit www.hotelsholbrookaz.com.
Symphony Orchestra
April 12, Flagstaff
“Rach the House” as Rus-sian
concert pianist Vassily
Primakov performs Rach-maninov’s
Concerto No. 2 and
Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 6.
Information: 928-523-5661 or
www.flagstaffsymphony.org
Birding & Nature Festival
April 18-20, Yuma
Because of its location along
the Colorado River flyway,
and its unique mix of desert,
mountain and riparian habitat,
Yuma is home to more than
400 bird species. This festival
is a great introduction to the
diverse outdoor adventures
available throughout the area.
Information: 928-376-0100 or
www.yumabirding.com
Chalk It UP!
April 20-21, Prescott
Get ready to doodle on a
grand scale as you create
sidewalk-chalk masterpieces.
“Chalk It UP! Prescott” helps
cultivate and support creativ-ity
in people of all ages and
abilities. Information: 928-
308-8762 or www.prescott
chalkart.com
Mariachi Conference
April 24-27, Tucson
This international conference
features performances by
mariachi musicians and baile
folklorico dancers. Informa-tion:
www.tucsonmariachi.org
Photo Workshop:
Havasupai
May 6-10, Havasu Canyon
Join award-winning Arizona
Highways photographers
Suzanne Mathia and Derek
von Briesen on this journey to
the “Shangri-La” of the South-west:
Havasu Canyon. This
small branch of the Grand
Canyon is home to Havasu,
Navajo and Mooney falls,
three of the most spectacular
waterfalls in the American
West. Participants of this
workshop will enjoy the best
photo opportunities at this
unique and beautiful site.
Information: 888-790-7042 or
www.ahpw.org
Globetrotter Lodge
  things to do in arizona  
holbrook
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16 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 17
There are many wonderful restaurants in Arizona,
and every April, we spotlight some of the best. This
month, we’re at it again, but instead of having an
editorial board make the picks, we enlisted the help
of 10 of our favorite food-loving photographers.
By Nikki Buchanan Photographs by Paul Markow
Months spent traversing
Italy by bicycle inform the
menu at Flagstaff’s
Pizzicletta, a Neapolitan
pizzeria and favorite of
photographer Dawn Kish.
Average Entrée Cost
$ = $10 and under
$$ = $11-$19
$$$ = $20-$30
$$$$ = $30+ Best Restaurants 2013
18 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 19
Best Restaur2a0n1t3s
Pizzicletta
Flagstaf
Recommended by Dawn Kish
Established: 2011
Cuisine: Italian
Chef: Caleb Schiff
Price: $$
Open: Dinner
Information: 203 W. Phoenix
Avenue, Flagstaff, 928-774-3242,
www.pizzicletta.com
Asi Es La Vida
Phoenix
Recommended by Kerrick James
Established: 2002
Cuisine: Regional Mexican
Chef: Irving Rodriguez
Price: $$
Open: Lunch, Dinner
Information: 3602 N. 24th Street,
Phoenix, 602-952-1255
Once upon a time long, long ago (like
the early ’90s), there was a Mexican
restaurant called Such Is Life, which
created a stir for turning out regional
Mexican dishes instead of the usual
cheddar-cheese-topped AZ-Mex
standards. When the Rodriguez fam-ily
bought the business 10 years later,
they changed the name to Asi Es La
Vida (“such is life” in Spanish), but kept
the same commitment to authentic-ity.
Their faintly upscale little place is
adorable, thanks to brightly colored
walls, plants, Mexican art and furni-ture,
and the menu hews to tradition,
offering cochinita pibil (Yucatan), molé
poblano (Puebla), ceviche (coastal)
and sincronizadas (Chihuahua).
“A friend took me
there, and I loved
the building, the
owner, the fresh
ingredients, the
wine list and the
divine pizzas.”
— dawn kish
Chef-owner Caleb Schiff spent months riding his
bicycle (bicicletta) through Italy, sustaining himself
on pizza and gelato. Now he applies what he learned
about freshness and simplicity to the short but oh-so-
sweet menu at his tiny pizza joint, housed in a
wedge-shaped historic building. Using the domed
wood-burning oven he built himself, Schiff turns out
lavishly topped Neapolitan-style pies, antipasti and
dreamy Tuscan-style gelato, the recipe gleaned from
a gelato-making friend in Italy. Customers call ahead
to reserve a loaf of Schiff’s rustic bread, offered Friday
through Sunday.
above: Pizzicletta attracts
Flagstaff visitors and locals
six days a week.
left: Server Erika Keller
displays a popular “pizza
rossa” (red sauce) offering.
The food isn’t the only
authentically Mexican thing
about Asi Es La Vida, whose
walls are adorned with
symbols of traditional
Mexican culture.
“I love the watermelon agua fresca; oh
my God, it’s like nectar. This is truly a
family restaurant, offering real Mexican
food, not Mexican-American food, in a
relaxed atmosphere.” — Kerrick James
20 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 21
Best Restaur2a0n1t3s
Cliff Dwellers
Lodge
Marble Canyon
Recommended by David Zickl
Established: 1951
Cuisine: American/Modern
American
Chef: John Cochran
Price: $-$$$
Open: Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner
Information: 928-355-2261,
www.cliffdwellerslodge.com
The Steak Out
Sonoita
Recommended by Paul Markow
Established: 1951
Cuisine: American/Steaks
Chef: Vince Govier
Price: $$-$$$
Open: Lunch (Sa-Su), Dinner
Information: 3200 S. Sonoita
Highway, Sonoita, 520-455-5205,
www.azsteakout.com
“There’s always a film crew or a celebrity at another
table, because the grasslands of Sonoita look like
somewhere else. If you’re not drinking wine, you invariably
end up doing so at this fun-looking log-cabin-ish place,
which serves great steaks and burgers.” — Paul Markow
“When I first saw
this run-down 1950s
motel, I assumed its
restaurant would
be a-shot-and-a-beer
cowboy joint,
where I’d be lucky to
get a cheeseburger.
I was shocked by
the sophistication
of the food. They
work hard at feeding
people well.”
— David Zickl
The original building (Sonoita Mercantile, back in
the day) burned down in 1997, and when this popular
steakhouse was rebuilt in 1999, owners Grace and
Michael Wystrach invited local ranchers to brand the
walls. Decorated with saddles, bronze statues, oxen
yokes, wagon-wheel chandeliers and cowboy art, the
place is an ode to the Old West, offering mesquite-grilled
steaks, homemade pinto beans and country
music on weekend nights. Nowadays, there’s a second
location in Marana, but it’s hard to beat the original for
emulating the Cowboy Way in an iconic, far-as-the-eye-
can-see Western setting.
top: Saddles and saloon
doors give The Steak Out an
Old West vibe.
above: The rebuilt Steak Out
restaurant in Sonoita, shown
here, was joined in 2004 by a
second location in Marana.
Fly-fishers and river-rafters flock to this rustic
old lodge because of its proximity to Lees Ferry
on the Colorado River. A hard bed, clean sheets
and a meal (decent or otherwise) are generally
their only requirements. Instead, they’re treated
to hearty breakfasts and first-rate lunches,
both served with spectacular views of the
Vermilion Cliffs. Come nightfall, looming peaks
and a sky full of stars provide a romantic back-drop
for inspired dinners of Alaskan king crab
legs, New Zealand rack of lamb and sesame-crusted
ahi, drizzled with wasabi sauce.
A super-friendly service staff makes the experi-ence
all the more delicious.
Views of the Vermilion Cliffs are a
trademark of the Cliff Dwellers
Lodge, located on the road that
connects the Grand Canyon’s North
and South rims.
22 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 23
Best Restaur2a0n1t3s
The Old World feel
of Dahl & Di Luca’s
dining room and
wine selection
combines with the
21st century flavor
of live music and
locally sourced,
organic ingredients.
“You can tell how good a restaurant is going to be by the
quality of its bread. Dahl & Di Luca rolls out great bread
and wonderful pasta. The menu spans a nice range, and
you can get dressed up and take clients there or go in
wearing jeans and hiking boots.” — Derek von Briesen
Dahl & Di Luca
Ristorante Italiano
Sedona
Recommended by Derek von Briesen
Established: 1995
Cuisine: Italian
Chef: Lisa Dahl
Price: $$-$$$
Open: Lunch, Dinner
Information: 2321 W. State Route
89A, Sedona, 928-282-5219,
www.dahlanddiluca.com
With its crystal chandeliers, heavy draperies, gor-geous
table settings and Italian art, this multi-award-winning
Red Rock Country mainstay exudes Old
World charm. Chef-owner Lisa Dahl (who wrote The
Elixir of Life cookbook in 2010) is committed to local,
organic ingredients whenever possible, turning out
picture-perfect salads, rustic soups, house-made
pastas and Italian classics (think scampi fra diavolo,
fettuccine primavera and veal saltimbocca), as well
as the occasional inspired creation such as grilled
Scottish salmon finished with a limoncello reduction.
The global wine list, which features Super Tuscans
and other regional Italian wines, impresses for its
breadth and affordability.
Dara Thai Café
Williams
Recommended by Mark Lipczynski
Established: 2008
Cuisine: Thai
Chef: Pranee Adachi
Price: $-$$
Open: Lunch, Dinner
Information: 145 W. Route 66,
Suite C, Williams, 928-635-2201
“It’s just a little
no-frills hole
in the wall, but
the food is very
authentic and
very, very good.
You don’t expect
to find that in
a meat-and-potatoes
town
like Williams.”
— Mark Lipczynski
Pranee Adachi and her daughter, Jarunee
Krathinthong, own and operate this small, cozy
place, where houseplants and café curtains conjure
Grandma’s house — if Grandma were from Thailand.
Adachi, who learned her fresh-ingredients philosophy
from her own mother (a caterer in Thailand), makes
everything from scratch, including her own curry paste
and coconut ice cream. Customers, in turn, rave about
her curries, Pad Thai, Dara tofu and award-winning
Evil Jungle Princess, marveling that some of the most
authentic Thai food in the state is found in Williams.
above: Pad Thai is a
favorite order at Dara
Thai Café.
left: Pranee Adachi and
her daughter, Jarunee
Krathinthong, serve
dishes inspired by
Adachi’s mother’s recipes.
24 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 25
Best Restaur2a0n1t3s
Los Hermanos
Superior
Recommended by Elias Butler
Established: 1976
Cuisine: Mexican/American
Chef: Richard Tameron
Price: $
Open: Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner
Information: 835 W. U.S. Route
60, Superior, 520-689-5465,
www.loshermanosrestaurant.com
Caffé Torino
Oro Valley
Recommended by Jack Dykinga
Established: 2000
Cuisine: Northern Italian
Chef: Daniela Borella
Price: $-$$$
Open: Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner
Information: 10325 N. La Canada
Drive, Tucson, 520-297-3777,
www.caffetorinoorovalley.com
Daniela Borella says her Italian-born
mother (from Torino) and father (from
Bologna) offer inspiration and support
at her intimate, upscale neighbor-hood
restaurant, hung with vintage
family photos and the work of local
artists. So it’s no wonder her lasagna
(made with Dad’s Bolognese) and her
spaghetti with meatballs are legend-ary.
Although veal Marsala, chicken
Valdostana and bistecca alla Toscana
(not to mention white tablecloths
and an extensive wine list, peppered
with Italian labels) suggest fine dining,
Borella insists that it’s her adherence
to fresh ingredients and simple, well-prepared
dishes that wins her such a
loyal following of locals, golfers and,
yes, photographers.
“I make it a
point to stop at
Los Hermanos
every time I’m
in Superior. It
feels like old-school
Arizona.
The tortillas are
awesome and
the green chile
is especially
delectable. I
always get some
to take home.”
— Elias Butler
Caffé Torino’s lasagna, made with
the chef’s father’s Bolognese recipe,
is the stuff of legend among
Tucsonans and tourists.
A destination for cowboys
and anyone else who
appreciates a no-frills
meal, Los Hermanos has
been serving up made-from-
scratch AZ-Mex food
for more than two decades.
Founded by six brothers (hermanos in Spanish),
this no-frills operation — outfitted in vinyl and
Formica — offers honest, made-from-scratch
AZ-Mex at its basic best. Thick house-made chips
and plenty-hot salsa are the prelude to enchiladas,
tostadas, posole and the best refried beans for
miles around. Some people save room for des-sert
empanadas; others just fill up on ultra-thin,
transparent tortillas (made with lard, yay!) cranked
out from the adjacent tortilla factory, which is also
owned by the Tameron family and their one lone
hermano with a different surname: Donlin.
“I’ve been going to Caffé Torino — and taking other
photographers there — since they first opened.
It’s everybody’s favorite place because the food
is fresh and simple and, like Cheers, everybody
knows your name.” — Jack Dykinga
26 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 27
Best Restaur2a0n1t3s
Indian Gardens
Oak Creek Market
Oak Creek Canyon
Recommended by Suzanne Mathia
Established: 1984
Cuisine: American
Chef: Amanda Stine
Price: $
Open: Breakfast, Lunch, Early
Dinner
Information: 3951 N. State Route
89A, Sedona, 928-282-7702,
www.oakcreekmarket.com
TOP: Indian Gardens Oak Creek
Market has become a
destination for craft-beer
enthusiasts and wine lovers.
abov e : Housemade organic
pesto and local toppings take
the market’s sandwiches to the
next level.
“Indian Gardens has always been my favorite stop-off
point after early morning shoots up the canyon. After a
long hike, there’s nothing better than a great sandwich
and a really good cup of tea in their beautiful, secluded
garden under a canopy of trees.” — Suzanne Mathia
For signature
recipes from
each of our
Best Restau-rants,
scan
this QR code or visit www.
arizonahighways.com/travel/
dining.asp.
Situated on the winding road through Oak Creek
Canyon, this rustic, flower-bordered country store
has been operated by various members of the
Garland family (of Garland’s Lodge fame) since
the ’80s. Now that Daniel Garland has made it his
baby, the recently remodeled place, finished with
local rock, has blossomed into an artisanal way
station, stocked with craft beer, Arizona wines and
locally sourced products. In the fall, the kitchen
turns Oak Creek apples into applesauce, apple
butter and apple muffins. But tourists and locals
show up all year long for excellent homemade
soups and gourmet sandwiches, garnished with
local tomatoes and house-made organic pesto
when the season allows.
Booga Red’s
Springerville
Recommended by George Stocking
Established: 1980
Cuisine: Mexican/American
Chefs: Gaby Ruiz, Tina Irigoyen
Price: $-$$
Open: Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner
Information: 521 E. Main Street,
Springerville, 928-333-2640
“On the Mogollon
Rim, green chili
is a dish, not a
garnish like it is
in New Mexico.
Booga Red’s
green chili is the
best I’ve ever had
— not on-fire hot,
just flavorful —
and made just the
way I like it: about
85 percent
green chile and
15 percent meat.”
— George Stocking
Edgar Merrill — a red-haired, rough-and-tumble car-penter
with the nickname “Booga Red” — opened this
down-home Mexican/American restaurant (and built
its bar) 32 years ago, and it hasn’t changed much since.
Now it’s owned and operated by Merrill’s granddaugh-ter
Melissa Madariaga and her husband, Buster, who
still turn out praiseworthy huevos rancheros, chicken-fried
steak and St. John’s tacos (filled with ground beef
and griddled in the shell). Filled with hunting trophies
and frequented by locals who hunt, fish and cowboy,
the place is famous for both its red and green chili,
made from generations-old family recipes.
The taco salads and beers are both larger than life at Booga Red’s, which has served up Mexican-American
delicacies for more than three decades.
w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 29
Spring
Water In Arizona, springtime is subtle, and it doesn't
stir up the same fanfare it does in places like Syracuse, St. Paul and
Spokane. There is a seasonal change, however. Especially in the high
country, where spring snowmelt can alter the landscape. At Lake
Powell, the visual effects are minimal, but come April, you can rest
assured that lake levels are on the rise, and the water is colder
than a witch's ... refrigerator. | A Portfolio by Gary Ladd |
Viewed from near Cookie Jar Butte, a bare ridge of the Entrada Sandstone catches the sunset’s light.
CAMERA: Tachihara 4x5; film: velvia 100; SHUTTER: 1/8 sec; APERTURE: F/25; ISO: 1 28 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 00; FOCAL LENGTH: 210 MM
30 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 31
Spring
Water
[above] The 10,388-foot summit of Navajo Mountain towers more than 6,700 feet above a tranquil bay near
the mouth of Cascade Canyon. CAMERA: Tachihara 4x5; film: velvia 100; SHUTTER: 1/15 sec; APERTURE: F/20; ISO: 100; FOCAL LENGTH: 210 MM
[right] On the southern edge of Padre Bay, ancient ripple marks are preserved in the Carmel Formation. Padre’s Butte
is mirrored in the background. CAMERA: Tachihara 4x5; film: velvia 100; SHUTTER: 1/8 sec; APERTURE: F/25; ISO: 100; FOCAL LENGTH: 75 MM
Buttes surround the southern end of Face Canyon at sunset.
CAMERA: Tachihara 4x5; film: velvia 100; SHUTTER: 1/8 sec; APERTURE: F/25; ISO: 100; FOCAL LENGTH: 125 MM
33
34 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 35
[above] Falling water levels at the lake have isolated basins such as this one near Cookie Jar Butte.
CAMERA: Tachihara 4x5; film: velvia 100; SHUTTER: 1/15 sec; APERTURE: F/20; ISO: 100; FOCAL LENGTH: 75 MM
[right] Kane Point (left) and Padre’s Butte (center) jut from the lake just after sunrise.
CAMERA: Tachihara 4x5; film: velvia 100; SHUTTER: 1/8 sec; APERTURE: F/36; ISO: 100; FOCAL LENGTH: 210 MM
Spring
Water
37
Colorado River cobbles, comprised mostly of quartzite, lava and limestone, cover a
knob of rock near Labyrinth Canyon. Boundary Butte is in the background.
CAMERA: Tachihara 4x5; film: velvia 100; SHUTTER: 1/15 sec; APERTURE: F/22; ISO: 100; FOCAL LENGTH: 210 MM
38 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 39
[above] A February sunrise silhouettes Boundary Butte (right) and fills the sky and the lake with color.
CAMERA: Tachihara 4x5; film: velvia 100; SHUTTER: 1/2 sec; APERTURE: F/20; ISO: 100; FOCAL LENGTH: 125 MM
[left] At midday, the sun illuminates the chamber immediately upstream from the Cathedral in the Desert.
CAMERA: Tachihara 4x5; film: velvia 100; SHUTTER: 1/2 sec; APERTURE: F/16; ISO: 100; FOCAL LENGTH: 125 MM
Spring
Water
40 a p r i l 2 0 1 3
The Power
of Life in
a Very Hot
PlaceA poignant dissertation
on life, death and difficult
renewal in Organ Pipe
Cactus National Monument,
a humbling place where “a
short walk can take you out
of this century and into a
deep well of time.”
An Essay by Charles Bowden P hotographs by Jack Dykinga
A rainbow appears
as a thunderstorm
approaches at
sunset in Organ Pipe
Cactus National
Monument. The
organ pipe cactus
takes 150 years to
reach maturity and
usually grows to
about 16 feet tall.
42 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 43
to the south. He wrote the book on the archaeology of the Pina-cate
region across the line in Sonora. He stopped at Organ Pipe to
say hello to the granddaughter of Don Alberto Celaya, and Don
Alberto had as a young boy guided Carl Lumholtz, the Norwegian
explorer, into the country in the first decade of the 20th century.
Lumholtz became the man who wrote New Trails in Mexico, the first
view of the region for most of the world. And then when Hayden
showed up in the early '50s, Don Alberto as an old man taught him
the country also.
For me, the place is rich with ghosts. Julian Hayden’s ashes are
scattered on a hillside overlooking a crater just across the line.
Edward Abbey, another friend, sleeps in the desert west of Organ
Pipe. And then there are the vanished people of the springs at
Quitobaquito, the Sand Papago, Hia C-ed O’odham, the last true
nomads of the United States. I come for the memories, and what
I remember here is the world before I was born and the world
before the United States was born. This dry country is the bed-rock
of my dreams.
Brittlebush blooms yellow high in the Ajo Mountains of Decem-ber
and the view stretches west and south in the heart of the So-noran
Desert. The national monument rides on the border of the
United States, a place where the core flora of this tropical desert
lap across our borders and bring intrusions of organ pipe cactus
and senita, two signature species of the great desert itself. The ba-jadas
are forests of saguaros mingled with cholla and creosote. Up
on the mountain the creosote gives way to brittlebush and the big
cactuses seem to bob in waves of the gray-leafed plant. The yel-low
daisy flower explodes with color against the faint rose rock
of volcanic tuff.
Just to the west a road, El Camino del Diablo, snakes across the
desert. Four thousand Sonorans stormed down it in the gold rush
of ’49, among them Joaquin Murrieta, who became in legend the
Robin Hood of California. The organ pipe cactus showed up around
3,500 years ago as the land slowly warmed after the end of the Ice
Age. The plant crossed the border and replaced a world of oak and
juniper, probing into what is now the United States for about a hun-dred
miles. This has always been a crossroads and this has long
been a big empty because the rains hardly come and the sun gnaws
at human schemes. Organ Pipe makes us face the idea of borders
because the southern part of the park is the border and because
everything that draws us to the park has crossed the line. Organ
pipe, saguaro and senita marched up from the south. Ancient paths
crisscrossed the international boundary. I once walked a prehis-he
good country begins on the edge of
the nation. We have declared a bor-der,
but life, the plants, animals and
dreams, rolls out as an unbroken fab-ric.
The place began for me in some long
ago when I traveled the desert with
Julian Hayden, the man who found
traces of early man in the black rock
Rock daisies
peek from the
crevices of a
rock formation
at sunset in the
Puerto Blanco
Mountains.
This has always been a crossroads
and this has long been a big empty
because the rains hardly come and
the sun gnaws at human schemes.
t
44 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 45
toric shell trail with a friend that arced up from Cholla
Bay just north of Puerto Peñasco to Ajo and then on
to Phoenix, a path, then as now, moving through lan-guages
and peoples.
The Hia C-ed O’odham, the people of the vast desert
flowing west and south, were said to sell their dreams,
a natural product if you stick around here long enough.
They were the masters of this area and their lives flowed
from the Ajos to the Gila River and down into the black-rock
country and the Gulf of California. They knew this
desert in a way I never will, and wandered it with an
ease I will never attain. The place humbles us. Here
people struggle to find a drop of water and yet are
surrounded by trees and huge cactuses that flourish.
The large cities of the Sonoran Desert — Phoenix,
Tucson, Hermosillo — shelter on the edge where riv-ers
come out of the mountains and meet the hot ground.
Think of them as harbors facing a burning sea. Organ
Pipe Cactus National Monument is out in this big
empty. Here truths survive that the cities never learn.
One is that the stars hum in the night sky. The second
is that nothing can endure in the desert that denies
the lack of rain. Another is that in the core of the sum-mer
you can hear the heat pound the land. And finally,
there is the lesson that deserts have no center. Like
the sea, they ignore our craving for security, bound-aries
and havens. The desert sweeps on and on and
the silence of the desert erases our egos. We finally
begin to exist as something beyond our everyday cares
and worries. The border of our body vanishes and we
become one with the land.
I leave the road, walk out into a forest of saguaros,
the ground a pavement of stone fragments. A phaino-pepla,
a small black cardinal-like bird, lands on a pa-lo
verde. A Gila woodpecker calls. A red-tailed hawk
rides past. These tiny events go away and there is the
faint breeze, the green of the creosote leaves, the sun
pouring down on the land. I am now at the hardest
scenic point to reach: nowhere. I wander through the
saguaros. I sit on the ground. And then I stop making
notes. That is when I know I finally arrive. The swoosh
of a raven’s wing becomes an event.
To the west, there is no settlement until the Col-orado
River; to the south, a volcanic wilderness, the
Pinacate reserve, parallels the park; to the north is
Cabeza Prieta National Wildlife Refuge. Thousands
of square miles without a house or person. A dream
has haunted me for decades. It came to me at the tinajas
in the Pinacate where I slept in sleeping circles left by
the people thousands of years ago. Sometimes, it came
on night walks across the Cabeza Prieta. There were
those days at Heart Tank, the nights on the west edge
of Organ Pipe, the moonrise on the delta of the Colo-rado
when a coyote howled and I faced the protected
zone of the upper Gulf, a place where blue whales still
prowl the sea.
There is a mosaic of life and emptiness lingering in
government refuges in Northwest Sonora and South-west
Arizona, a potential national park that can one
day spill across the border of two nations and lurch
into being. That’s my dream. For the moment, Organ
Pipe is a piece of this possibility. As the world shrinks
these last fragments of space and silence will grow as
a dream in the minds of others and I think my dream
will one day be a reality. Like all dreams, it seems
impossible until it comes to be. After all, there was a
time when Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument was
inconceivable to most people.
Of late, this has been a place of siege. Kris Eggle, a
park ranger, was murdered here in 2002 when a gun-fight
spilled north across the border. Migrants seek-ing
work in the United States trashed the backcountry.
Drug smugglers slashed 200 miles of new roads. Only
31 percent of the park is now open to visitors.
So what is it like? Quiet and safe and empty. It is like
being the private owner of a national park. Visitation
has sunk from 300,000 a year in the 1990s to 30,000
a year now. The park is now shielded with car barri-ers
on the border and stuffed with agents. It is almost
certainly safer than wherever you are as you read this.
Organ Pipe is the long view of life. The ironwood trees
dotting the land can live 500 to a thousand years. The
mayhem of our moment is just that, a moment. The
park lives by a different clock.
Deserts are often described as wastelands because it
is difficult to turn their beauty into towns and money.
Organ Pipe was mauled by mining dreams and roads
and overgrazed for much of the 20th century, all in
the hope it could be beaten into submission. A hand-ful
of people, Bill and Birdie del Miller, Rube Daniels,
Henry Gray, Abraham Armenta, took a stab at ranch-ing
and farming here and in the end, the land beat
them all. These failed ventures often brutalized the
ground. But what is striking, even in this place of low
rainfall and difficult renewal, is to feel how much the
ground has recovered. Buildings slowly sink back to
the ground at the old Gray Ranch headquarters close
by Bates Well, but what a person senses there is a small
footprint of our kind being slowly devoured by the
inferno of the desert. You turn your back on the scrag-gly
buildings, look west toward the Growler Valley and
think of words like infinity or deep space.
Organ Pipe, like all national parks, is an agreement
between the American people and their ground. It is
not an episode but an abiding promise that if we take
care of this good Earth, it will in turn tend to us. Organ
Pipe has been through some hard days lately but they
are but a flicker in the life of this place and in our life
in this place. It was created in 1937 and became part of
a new kind of thinking for us as a people. In the begin-ning,
national parks tended to be spectacular scenery.
Organ Pipe was created to protect an ecosystem and
its beauty became a bonus. The result is a huge slab of
the Sonoran Desert featuring organ pipe cactus. And
space. And silence. Almost all of it is managed as wil-derness,
which means a short walk can take you out of
this century and into a deep well of time.
The Valley of the Ajo sweeps south. To the west, the
Bates Mountains, and Cipriano Hills, the latter named
after a Mexican businessman and outlaw. To the east,
the palisades of the Ajo Mountains, and to the south,
the Puerto Blanco mountains. Along the border, the La
Abra Plain and the Sonoyta Valley. A sprawl of country
with Quitobaquito tucked away in the southwest cor-ner
only 200 yards from the international boundary.
The springs at Quitobaquito capture both the mo-ment
now sweeping over Organ Pipe, and how brief
this moment is in the history of the place. The only
real water in the entire park, the springs host the en-dangered
Quitobaquito pupfish and Sonoran mud tur-tle.
Once, this water marked a boundary of sorts be-tween
two language groups of the Tohono O’odham,
the desert people. The Spaniards found it by the late
17th century and always there have been efforts turn
the water onto fields.
The first time I saw the springs it felt like some
mirage of ponds and birds and trees. Now I cannot see
it at all because the road to it has been closed for secu-rity
reasons. The pupfish can be seen in a small pond
at the visitors center, one named after Kris Eggle, the
murdered ranger. The fish in the small pool of water
move at my shadow hoping for food, the males flashing
blue. They are here in case things go bad at the springs
since the water level is dropping there.
But this closure of the road to Quitobaquito will
pass, as have so many things here. The current tempest
will sweep off the desert into the dust of a history book
and peace will return. I stand in the shade of an iron-wood
that is likely older than my nation and I have the
faith of a pupfish, surviving century after century in
a desert. Organ Pipe is open for business and its busi-ness
is to teach the power of life in a very hot place. We
made a deal with the ground and the bad times cannot
touch our dreams.
above: The sun gilds
organ pipe cactuses and
other desert plants. The
organ pipe cactus is rare
elsewhere in Arizona but
more common in Mexico.
The desert sweeps on and on and the silence of the desert erases our egos.
46 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 47
Southeastern Arizona is considered the hummingbird
capital of the United States. As many as 15 species
can be found there, making it a mecca, of sorts, for
birds and bird-watchers alike. However, recent fires,
floods and freezing temperatures dramatically
altered the little birds’ habitat, as well as their
population. Readers were worried, so we sent our
writer south to check it out.
By MATT JAFFE
PhotographS by BRUCE D. TAUBERT
Dwarfed by a thistle, this adult
male rufous hummingbird is
vulnerable to insect-eating birds
and animals because of its small
size — about 3 inches long.
Females have green feathers on
their heads.
Camera: Canon EOS-1D Mark IV;
Shutter: 1/320; Aperture: F/20;
ISO: 400; Focal Length: 292 MM
ITTLE
IRDS
48 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 49
The last thing I expect after days of
watching hummingbirds chattering and
dog fighting — their wings blurred at
50 beats per second and feathers flashing
iridescent reds, violets and oranges — is
to find one sitting silently in my unaccus-tomed
hand.
Our lives have crossed at Casa de San
Pedro Bed and Breakfast in Hereford, where Sheri Williamson, a
leading hummingbird expert and cofounder of the Southeastern
Arizona Bird Observatory, is examining and banding the birds.
After hatching a few months earlier, maybe as far north as Alaska,
the female rufous hummingbird is pausing in Arizona during her
first migration to wintering grounds in south-central Mexico.
I’m part of a different kind of migration, one in which life-listing
birders (and casual observers like me) fly in for one of two annual
peak seasons when as many as 15 hummingbird species are found
locally — and Southeastern Arizona earns its reputation as the
hummingbird capital of the United States.
The rufous is resting, a bit dazed, after the strangest few min-utes
of her life. First, a remote-controlled net dropped around the
feeder where she was drinking. She fluttered and chirped in pro-test,
but, once firmly in Williamson’s grip, settled down.
That’s not always how it goes. “Some of them really thrash and
squirm and squeal and hiss and sputter and shriek and growl and
carry on like savage little Tasmanian devils,” Williamson says.
After fitting the rufous with a numbered band made of soft
aluminum, Williamson measures the beak, wings and tail. She
blows into a yellow straw to part the belly feathers and expose
the bird’s translucent skin to assess its fat content, then slips the
young female into a sling for a weigh-in on an old spring scale. The
bird comes in at 3.7 grams, a little more than an old copper penny.
As I hold the rufous, awaiting her departure, what I feel doesn’t
register as anything I’d consider weight. What I do feel is a steady
beat against my hand — the rhythm of her lungs drawing more
than 200 breaths per minute. Those lungs, along with a heart that
can pump 20 times per second, form the dynamo that will power
the rufous on the longest migration relative to size of any bird in
the world.
Assuming she leaves my hand.
Holding that Rufous is the highlight of a trip I almost can-celed
— there’s no point in going to see hummingbirds where there
are no hummingbirds.
It’s easy to romanticize the little birds. They’re among the world’s
most miraculous creatures, equally beloved for their vivid hues,
sprite-like days spent darting among flowers, and aerobatics that
let them hover and fly backward as efficiently as they fly forward.
So, hummingbirds make frequent appearances in needlepoint pat-terns,
undergrad poetry journals, and treacly songs by Cat Stevens
and Seals & Crofts.
As gloriously designed as they might be, hummingbirds don’t
live easy lives. Last year, during the traditional spring peak in mid-
April, reports came in of hummingbird numbers at maybe 5 per-cent
of normal. Then, even those birds vanished.
“I’d see maybe one hummingbird — not one species, but one
individual — every five or seven minutes,” says Mary Jo Ballator,
who maintains a feeding station at her Ash Canyon Bed & Break-fast
in Hereford.
Williamson believes that a series of events hit Arizona’s hum-mingbirds
hard: a drought that’s going on 15 years, the freeze in Feb-ruary
2011 that left hummingbirds dead on the ground and killed
plants the birds depend on, and the Monument and Horseshoe
2 fires that swept through the Huachuca and Chiricahua moun-tains,
respectively, in the summer of 2011, destroying nesting and
feeding habitat.
“The foothills were so scorched, they were inhospitable,” Wil-liamson
says. “So the hummingbirds came down to the San Pedro
River. It was like a refugee camp here. All of a sudden the local birds
had these strangers piling in on top of them. It was chaos.”
Less understood is how conditions beyond Arizona might also
have affected the populations. A sky island rising above the des-ert,
the Huachuca Mountains are part of a migratory superhighway
that connects Arizona with the Rockies, Mexico’s Sierra Madre and
ful creatures can be as surly as sleep-deprived, Red Bull-swilling
middle linebackers.
“They’re monsters; they hate each other,” Ballator says as a fren-zy
of hummingbirds dive-bombs and rousts each other from feed-ers.
After swirling chases, they finally reach a fragile truce and set-tle
in, glancing up frequently to take stock of rivals and scan the
skies for the next blitzkrieg.
A soundtrack of staccato cheeps and whistling wings plays off
thunder rumbling in from the Huachucas. Part of what drew Bal-lator
to this property from the Bay Area in 1992 was the 5,200-foot
elevation. Like Beatty’s place, hers is in a transition zone between
desert and mountains. “So I’m doubling up,” Ballator says. “I get
mountain species, like magnificents, but also Lucifers, which is a
high-desert hummingbird.”
Sure enough, a male Lucifer, its throat flaring purple, alights
on a nearby feeder. A few minutes later, Ballator points out a male
magnificent, which lives up to its name with a purple head and an
almost neon-green throat.
When we move to a second spot, a plain-capped starthroat, a
less-vivid, but rare hummingbird and a big draw for Ballator, lands.
By this point, my eyes are more attuned to the variations, so when
a male violet-crowned arrives, its coral-red bill, white belly and
regally hued head make it impossible to miss.
If I bothered to keep a life list, it would have grown by three
in that hour at Ash Canyon. But nothing will compare to the mem-ory
of this rufous.
While other hummingbirds fly away at the first opportunity,
she’s in no hurry, perhaps relishing some body heat before head-ing
out into the surprisingly cool evening.
So the minutes pass — four, five, six — and I’m able to appre-ciate
the delicate pattern of her plumage and the alert intensity
of her eyes. I’m also, by nature, a worrier, and I ponder just how
such a tiny thing will complete a journey that I can scarcely imag-ine
making by car.
“It takes a while for them to get their acts together,” Williamson
says. “Just like kids of any species, they have innate calendars and
compasses to tell them when to leave and where to go, but some-times
it takes them a little while to respond to all of that. In its first
migration, a bird will come through the same area from three days
up to a week later than it will after it has the route mapped out in its
head and is responding more efficiently to its own internal cues.”
Suddenly the rufous is gone, 10 feet up, then out of sight, in
search of a place to spend the night, on her own, and still weeks
away from journey’s end.
For more information on the Southeastern Arizona Bird Observatory, call 520-432-
1388 or visit www.sabo.org.
the tropics. The area’s remarkable diversity is what draws a com-bination
of resident species and those, like my little rufous friend,
who pass through.
So Arizona’s hummingbirds, if you will, are canaries in the coal
mine for a big swath of North America. Ballator heard reports from
New Mexico and California of abnormally low hummingbird num-bers
and speculated whether fires or deforestation down there had
destroyed habitat along the migratory corridor.
Tom Beatty, whose apple-orchard feeding station in Miller Can-yon
is famous as the go-to spot for white-eared hummingbirds,
recalls attending a lecture about jaguars and learning of a cold
wave that dropped temperatures to near zero in mountains 150
miles south of the U.S.-Mexico border. Such weather could have
killed birds, as well as food sources that typically sustain Arizona-bound
hummingbirds.
A female Costa's hummingbird takes aim. Named for a 19th century French
nobleman, the species is known for a courtship ritual involving swoops,
dives and a high-pitched shriek.
Camera: Canon EOS-1D Mark IV; Shutter: 1/200; Aperture: F/14; ISO: 400;
Focal Length: 178 MM
"It’s a solid noise, and you don’t know what it is
until someone points it out to you. ‘That’s 2,000
hummingbirds flying around!' "
Then in August, near the start of the second peak season, the
hummingbirds reappeared. Ballator recalls the exact day: “On Au-gust
10, it was like someone lifted a curtain or opened the door.”
Still, numbers are down from historic highs. Beatty can recall
times when he ran through 47 quarts of food in a day — the most
he used in 2012 was 6 quarts. But Williamson believes that after
the initial destruction, the Monument Fire actually created prime
conditions. It opened the forest canopy and infused soils with
nutrients. Wildflowers thrived, and because hummingbirds pre-fer
natural nectar sources to feeders, they dispersed more than
usual. Then, as the bloom waned and southbound migrants came
through, the hummingbirds returned to feeders and gardens.
So, I head down to see what I’ll find at Beatty’s and Ash Canyon.
Tom Beatty might have had a more eventful year than the hum-mingbirds.
In 10 minutes, the Monument Fire swept through his
property beneath Carr Reef, a place where he and his wife, Edith,
have lived since 1967. The fire burned more than 1,200 of his 1,300
apple trees, as well as manzanitas, sycamores and live oaks used
for nesting or food by hummingbirds. Then the rains came and sent
cascades of boulders and mud through his property.
“We still have a green place, but we’re living pretty hard here,”
Beatty says.
We climb to a canopy-covered seating area that looks out on
feeders hanging from limbs of white and silverleaf oaks. Thanks
to feeding stations like Beatty’s, spotting hummingbirds might, at
first glance, seem easier than other bird-watching. For one thing,
the birds come to you.
But hummingbirds are so frenetic, and with endless variations
between males, females and juveniles, identifications are challeng-ing.
Although Beatty takes pride in the white-eareds that helped
put him on the map — “They’re worth their weight in gold,” he
says — he thinks visitors focus too much on life lists and photos
and not enough on just watching.
“There are people who come here, then a white-eared shows up
the moment they get here,” he says. “And they go click, take their
picture and don’t even sit down. It’s a trophy-hunter mentality, is
what it is.”
The white-eareds are gone for the season, but I’m amazed by the
activity as Anna’s, broad-taileds and magnificents dart about.
“See, you don’t know any better, how’s that?” Beatty says with a
chuckle. “Sometimes you hear a background noise, just like the creek
here. It’s a solid noise, and you don’t know what it is until someone
points it out to you. ‘That’s 2,000 hummingbirds flying around!’ ”
Late afternoon, I stop at Ash Canyon for what Ballator calls “tank-up
time,” when hummingbirds can drink one-third of their body
weight before nightfall. I’m hardly immune to hummingbirds’ ethe-real
charms. But what I find most enthralling is how such beauti-
50 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 51
Active
Voice Bobbie Holaday has spent more than three decades as
an advocate for wolves and wilderness areas. Through compromise,
compassion and unflinching determination, she’s been a voice for those
who have none. She’s also a living testament to how much
can be accomplished in life after the age of 65.
By Annette McGivney Photograph by mark duran
When Eastern Arizona ranchers learned
in 1988 that someone in Phoenix had started a citizen organiza-tion
to advocate for the endangered Mexican gray wolf, they were
ready for a fight. Who had the nerve, they wondered, to seek pub-lic
support for reintroducing wolves into their grazing country?
But then the ranchers met their unlikely opponent: Bobbie Hola-day.
A mild-mannered 65-year-old mom and retired systems ana-lyst,
she didn’t fit the profile of a typical eco-warrior. But Holaday
was a force to be reckoned with.
“At first, they hated my guts,” Holaday says. However, she grad-ually
won the ranchers over, just as she’d done with all of the other
controversial environmental causes she’s championed.
Today, Holaday is a spry 90 years old and lives at the base of
South Mountain in Phoenix. She’s spent the better part of her 60s,
70s and 80s fighting for wild places and creatures. The Arizona
Wilderness Coalition calls Holaday “one of the most dedicated and
energetic wilderness advocates in the Southwest.” Not only was
she instrumental in helping to get the Mexican gray wolf reintro-duced
to the Southwest, but she also was responsible for the fed-eral
designation of two major Arizona wilderness areas.
Holaday is the daughter of a Baptist minister and grew up in
New York state. “My folks always told glowing stories about the
West,” she says. “I had marveled at the pictures in Arizona High-ways
and knew I wanted to live in Arizona one day.” Her wish came
true in 1956, when she moved to Phoenix. But Holaday was a single
mom raising two daughters, and she says she spent most of her time
working and parenting. Then, in 1980, at the age of
57, she joined a local hiking club to get some exercise.
That’s when her life as a wilderness activist began.
“I really enjoyed hiking, and I started doing solo
backpacking trips with my dogs in remote places
like Rainbow Bridge,” Holaday says. “I felt a spiri-tual
connection to the land. I developed a kinship
with those places. And I came to believe that any
kind of environmental damage to wild areas would
be a crime.”
Soon Holaday was leading Sierra Club hikes into
threatened Arizona wilderness areas. In 1981, she
joined the Adopt-a-Wilderness Program, a citizen-led
effort to advocate for inclusion of certain pub-lic
lands under the Arizona wilderness bill that was
making its way through Congress. Holaday adopted
the remote and rugged Hellsgate Wilderness Study
Area in Central Arizona. It was a place other volun-teers
avoided because of the harsh terrain and hos-tile
ranching community. But such difficulties only
strengthened Holaday’s determination to fight for
the protection of Hellsgate.
With the zealousness of a missionary and the
methodical mind of a scientist, Holaday spent three
years hiking into every corner of Hellsgate to document its natu-ral
features. She lobbied U.S. Forest Service managers and worked
with local ranchers to dispel their fears about wilderness designa-tion.
She even took classes in range management at Arizona State
University to better understand the ranchers’ concerns.
When the Arizona Wilderness Act was signed into law in 1984,
Hellsgate was included as a result of Holaday’s perseverance. She
then adopted the Eagletail Mountains and championed that rug-ged
desert Wilderness Study Area. Eagletail, like Hellsgate, was a
hotbed of conflict with ranchers who opposed wilderness desig-nation.
But Holaday won them over, too. And in 1990, the 100,600-
acre Eagletail Wilderness became the crown jewel of the Arizona
Desert Wilderness Act.
“You have to be willing to leave a little shoe leather in the wil-derness
to get it protected, and Bobbie certainly did that,” says
Mark Trautwein, who was on the staff of then-Congressman Mo
Udall and oversaw the passage of the federal Arizona wilderness
bills in the 1980s from his Washington, D.C., office. “Bobbie rep-resented
the best qualities of citizen advocates. She proved to be
invaluable to the wilderness bills because her information was so
reliable and her willingness to help solve problems kept the pro-cess
moving forward.”
In the late 1980s, Holaday expanded beyond wilderness to wolves
when she adopted a dog that was part wolf. Then, in 1988, she
founded Preserve Arizona’s Wolves (PAWS), a citizen wolf- advo-cate
group that sought to gain public support for reintroducing the
endangered Mexican gray wolf into the wild.
“She was persistent but also fearless,” recalls Don Hoffman, a
retired manager for the Apache-Sitgreaves National Forests who
worked closely with the wolf program in the 1980s and 1990s.
When the idea of reintroducing the endangered Mexican wolf to
the Blue Range Primitive Area was first circulated by federal offi-cials,
opposition from the surrounding community was fierce. Hol-aday
was simply a concerned citizen with a big soft spot for wolves,
but Hoffman says “she played a very powerful role”
in finally getting the wolves released into the area in
1998. “She attended the meetings with local ranch-ers
and tried to help them understand the benefit
of having wolves in the ecosystem,” he says. “There
was no crowd that was too tough for her, and she
was always hopeful that she’d eventually achieve
consensus.”
Holaday wrote a book about her experience with
wolf reintroduction, The Return of the Mexican Gray Wolf:
Back to the Blue, which was published by University of
Arizona Press in 2003. She’s also been recognized
with prestigious awards from the Arizona Game
and Fish Department, Defenders of Wildlife and the
Sierra Club. But Holaday says the personal high point
of her more than 30 years of environmental activism
came in 1998, when she carried a cage containing
one of the Mexican wolves and released it with oth-ers
into the Blue Range Primitive Area, marking the
beginning of the reintroduction program.
Today, the wolf program is struggling, but has
approximately 50 wolves living in the wild. “I’ve
shed many tears about the wolves, and there were
times when it was so very hard,” she says, noting
how some of the animals have been killed over the past decade.
“But if you’re passionate about something, you never give up.”
Holaday doesn’t hike as much as she used to, but she works out
three times a week with a seniors group. And she treasured the
companionship of her 13-year-old snow-white dog, Blizzard, who
was half-wolf. Blizzard recently passed away.
“I still push myself,” she says. “I have a lot of things yet to accom-plish.
And I want to have a 100th birthday party.”
“I felt a spiritual
connection to
the land.
I developed
a kinship with
those places.
And I came
to believe that
any kind of
environmental
damage to wild
areas would be
a crime.”
“I’ve shed many tears,”
Bobbie Holaday says.
“But if you’re passionate
about something, you
never give up.”
52 a p r i l 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 53
of the occasional oncoming vehicle. For
the next 7.5 miles, the road narrows
as you climb the hillside. And then, at
Mile 5.3, the road becomes rough, but
it’s temporary. A flash-flood sign serves
as a reminder to skip this drive during
inclement weather.
Around Mile 8, you’ll see the tailings
dam from the Freeport-McMoRan Cop-per
& Gold Mine. It’s an unexpected
and ugly scar on Mother Nature’s other-wise
pristine canvas. As the road begins
to descend in a series of switchbacks,
the scenery shifts once again as cotton-wood
trees erupt from the ground, their
leaves providing shade as you bump
along toward Burro Creek.
The creek is a lush, life-giving stream
for the javelinas, toads, mosquitofish
and raptors that inhabit the area. It’s
also the payoff of this scenic drive.
Beauty certainly abounds en route, but
it’s here, as you walk along the banks of
the creek, where you’ll want to thank
Mother Nature for her impressive handi-work.
Burro Creek
Crossing Road
There are times when the roads
that lead to a scenic drive are
anything but scenic. And some
roads seem endless, even boring. “Are
we there yet?” becomes the mantra of
those stuck in the car. Yet you drive on
because the payoff — endless vistas
of stunning Arizona wilderness — is
worth it. The drive to Six Mile Crossing
has a definite payoff, but the scenery
along the way is impressive, too. This
trip is all about beautiful landscapes,
from start to finish.
To reach Burro Creek Crossing Road,
which is the link to Six Mile Crossing,
travel north from Wickenburg on U.S.
Route 93. It isn’t long into the drive
before the landscape is suddenly cov-ered
in Joshua trees. Designated the
Joshua Tree Forest Parkway of Arizona,
this 54-mile stretch of U.S. 93 is spec-tacular,
and because the road winds and
climbs, you’re guaranteed several excel-lent
views of these beautiful yet bizarre-looking
plants. If Mother Nature is kind
and the right amount of rain falls at the
right time of year, clusters of white-green
blossoms will sprout from the tips
of the Yucca brevifolia.
As the signs for Burro Creek begin
to appear, start paying attention to the
milepost numbers. The turnoff to Burro
Creek Crossing Road is around Milepost
132. Keep in mind there isn’t a turning
lane, so you’ll want to slow down as you
approach, and make sure you use your
turn signal to give the folks behind you
a heads-up. Once you make the turn,
you’ll see a sign that reads: “Primitive
Road. Caution. Use at Your Own Risk.”
In spite of the warning, Burro Creek
Crossing Road is a well-maintained,
graded dirt road that can be navigated
with a sedan, weather permitting.
Heading east, saguaros, chollas and
ocotillos replace the Joshua trees, and it
isn’t long before you’re treated to some
very nice views of Arizona’s backcoun-try.
Although you’ll be less than a mile
from the heavily traveled U.S. 93, you’ll
feel a world away — other than the piles
of scat, a few cattle crossings and tire
tracks, it’s just you and Mother Nature.
That said, take it slow and be mindful
below: Saguaros reach skyward along Burro Creek
Crossing Road, which feels a world away from the
nearby U.S. Route 93.
OPPOSITE PAGE: Near Bagdad, a solitary windmill is
the only sign of civilization among the chollas.
scenic drive
The payoff on this scenic drive is the lush riparian habitat
of Burro Creek, but the Joshua trees, saguaros and endless
vistas make it something special from the get-go.
by kathy ritchie photographs by rick giase
additional reading:
For more scenic drives, pick up a
copy of our book The Back Roads.
Now in its fifth edition, the book
features 40 of the state’s most
scenic drives. To order a copy, visit
www.shoparizonahighways.com/
books.
Note: Mileages are approximate.
Length: 29 miles round-trip (Burro Creek Road)
Directions: From Wickenburg, take U.S. Route 93
north to Milepost 132. Turn right onto Burro Creek
Crossing Road and drive 14.5 miles to Six Mile Crossing.
Retrace the route back to U.S. 93.
Vehicle requirements: A high-clearance vehicle is
suggested. Do not cross Burro Creek unless you have a
four-wheel-drive vehicle.
Warning: Back-road travel can be hazardous, so be
aware of weather and road conditions. Carry plenty of
water. Don’t travel alone, and let someone know where
you are going and when you plan to return.
Information: Bureau of Land Management, Kingman
Field Office, 928-718-3700 or www.blm.gov/arizona
Travelers in Arizona can visit www.az511.gov or dial
511 to get infor­ma­tion
on road closures, construc­tion,
delays, weather and more.
tour guide
Kevin kibsey
54 JA NUA RY 2 0 1 3 w w w. a r i z o n a h i g hwa y s . c om 55
Length: 8.2 miles round-trip
Difficulty: Moderate
Elevation: 5,634 to 7,082 feet
Trailhead GPS: N 34˚36.934’, W 112˚33.058’
Directions: From downtown Prescott, go north on
Montezuma Street, which becomes Whipple Street and
then Iron Springs Road, for 4.5 miles to Granite Basin Road
(Forest Road 374). Turn right onto Granite Basin Road and
drive 3.8 miles to the Metate Trailhead, just past Granite
Basin Lake.
Special Consideration: A $5 day pass is required (free on
Wednesdays).
Vehicle Requirements: None
Dogs Allowed: Yes (on a leash)
Horses Allowed: Yes
USGS Map: Iron Springs, Jerome Canyon
Information: Bradshaw Ranger District, 928-443-8000
or www.fs.usda.gov/prescott
trail guide
leave-no-trace principles:
• Plan ahead and be
prepared.
• Travel and camp on
durable surfaces.
• Dispose of waste
properly and pack
out all of your trash.
• Leave what you find.
• Respect wildlife and
minimize impact.
• Be considerate of
others.
Opposite Page: The Granite
Mountain Trail approaches the summit
of Granite Mountain, which looms
at an elevation of 7,626 feet.
Right: Granite Mountain reflects in
the still waters of Granite Basin Lake.
Kevin kibsey
hike of the month
The centerpiece of this hike is the mountain for which it’s named, but
just as impressive are the surrounding piles of 2-billion-year-old boul-ders
the size of boxcars. by ROBERT STIEVE photographs by aaron burrows
Granite
Mountain Trail
Granite Mountain. It sounds like
the kind of place that Fred and
Barney would take Wilma and
Betty for a romantic weekend. But Gran-ite
Mountain is nowhere near Bedrock
City, and time spent there is more about
adventure than amore.
That’s not to say you won’t fall in
love, because you will. Especially if
you’re attracted to wilderness areas that
can be reached in a Fiat 500.
There are 15 trails in the Granite
Mountain Recreation Area near Prescott,
but only two go into the wilderness
area, and of those, only one, the Granite
Mountain Trail, approaches the summit
— the actual peak looms slightly north-east
of the trail’s end at an elevation
of 7,626 feet. Because peak-bagging is
inherent in most hard-core hikers, this
route attracts a lot of interest, but it’s
rarely congested, and the payoff is worth
sharing with like-minded enthusiasts.
The hike begins at the Metate Trail-head,
which is located a few hundred
yards south of Granite Basin Lake. The
first thing you’ll notice as you leave the
parking lot is the mountain above. That’s
where you’re headed. The next thing
you’ll see, right in front of you, are pon-derosa
pines, alligator junipers, Fremont
cottonwoods, willows and other riparian
organisms. The trees dominate the first
stretch of the hike, which leads to the
Granite Mountain Wilderness, a hyper-protected
area that comprises 9,700 acres
in the Prescott National Forest.
Just beyond the wilderness boundary
sign, the trail dips in and out of a wash
and passes a pile of the massive granite
boulders that give the place its name.
The rocks, some of which are 2 billion
years old, come in a million sizes, with
the largest measuring up to a Burlington
Northern boxcar. At this point, the trail
is still sheltered by the riparian web,
but that’ll change after another 20 min-utes,
when the canopy disappears and
the hike arrives at Blair Pass. There’s a
saddle at the pass, which lies between
Granite Basin and Long Canyon, and
it’s a good place to gear up for the trail’s
primary ascent.
From the saddle, the route becomes
a series of long, moderate switchbacks,
and after about 20 minutes you’ll come
to a monstrous alligator juniper. It’s old,
and it has too many branches to count
— not literally, of course; that’s just a
way of saying it has a lot of branches.
Other than a few other gators, the
vegetation along this stretch is mostly
manzanita and mountain mahogany. It’s
drier than down below, and the plant
life is Exhibit A.
Moving on, about an hour into the
hike, you’ll come to the Granite Mountain
Saddle, where the trail splits to the right
and to the left. Keep right and continue
uphill past another super-sized gator. The
panorama to the south is expansive and
beautiful. From there, the route climbs
gradually into a forest of ponderosas and
a few scattered aspens, then levels off
as it approaches the Granite Mountain
Vista, which is well marked. This is the
end of the trail, and, as you’d expect, the
views are spectacular.
From the lookout, you can see the
deep-blue lake below, the Granite Dells
northeast of Prescott and the Bradshaw
Mountains to the south. You might also
catch a glimpse of a peregrine falcon.
Between February and July, the magnifi-cent
raptors use the surrounding cliffs
as a mating ground, which suggests that
Granite Mountain might be a place for
amore after all. If you hear “yabba dabba
doo!” out on the trail, you’ll know for
sure.
TK
ADDITIONAL READING:
For more hikes, pick up a copy
of Arizona Highways Hiking
Guide, which features 52 of the
state’s best trails — one for each
weekend of the year, sorted
by seasons. To order a copy,
visit www.shoparizonahighways.
com/books.
56 a p r i l 2 0 1 3
where is this?
Under Where?
A resident who claimed to be an Apache named this Northern Arizona ghost town. No one knows
for certain what the resident’s heritage might have been, but history does reveal that he feuded
with the gentleman who owned the store opposite his. Eventually, he killed the other shop owner,
who was buried in a grave marked “Killed by Indian Miller.” Today, only a few abandoned buildings
remain in what once was a tourist stop along Historic Route 66. — Kelly vaughn kramer
mike olbinski
Win a collection of
our most popular
books! To enter,
correctly identify the
location pictured at
left and email your
answer to editor@
arizonahighways.
com — type “Where
Is This?” in the sub-ject
line. Entries can
also be sent to 2039
W. Lewis Avenue,
Phoenix, AZ 85009
(write “Where Is
This?” on the enve-lope).
Please include
your name, address
and phone number.
One winner will be
chosen in a random
drawing of qualified
entries. Entries must
be postmarked by
April 15, 2013. Only
the winner will be
notified. The cor-rect
answer will be
posted in our June
issue and online at
www.arizonahigh
ways.com beginning
May 15.
February 2013
Answer & Winner
Rooster Cogburn
Ostrich Ranch.
Congratulations to
our winner, Kaley
Badger of Cotton-wood,
Arizona.
Ken Ross
Mind if We Tag along?
The state of arizona gave us our own license plate,
and we’d like you to take us for a ride.
To order an official Arizona Highways license plate, visit www.arizonahighways.com and click the license-plate
icon on our home page. Proceeds help support our mission of promoting tourism in Arizona.