4 s e p t e m b e r 2 0 0 8
E SC A P E . EX P LOR E . EX P E R I ENCE
Perhaps the Most
Project of Them All
An Essay About an Icon
by Craig Childs
JACK DYKINGA SHARES PHOTOS
FROM A DARK DESERT HIGHWAY
SUSIE YAZZIE: THE MATRIARCH
OF MAJESTIC MONUMENT VALLEY
ONE OF THE COOLEST SEDONA
HIKES YOU’VE NEVER HEARD OF
REASONS TO HIT THE ROAD ...
AND LEARN SOMETHING
ALONG THE WAY 20
Fort Bowie National Historic Site
◗ Because of their ability to adapt to the state’s diverse
habitats, coyotes thrive in Arizona. | BRUCE TAUBERT
FRONT COVER The adobe walls of historic Fort Bowie once
served as the focal point for military operations during
Arizona’s Indian Wars. | JEFF KIDA
BACK COVER Oak Creek ripples along its snow-covered
course in Central Arizona. | DEREK VON BRIESEN
02.11 Grand Canyon
• POINTS OF INTEREST IN THIS ISSUE
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for regular posts on just about anything related
to travel in Arizona, including road closures,
environmental news, festivals and other valuable
information we couldn’t fit in the magazine.
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Photographic Prints Available Prints of some photographs in this issue are available for purchase. To view options, visit www.arizonahighwaysprints.com. For more information, call 866-962-1191.
2 EDITOR’S LETTER
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
5 THE JOURNAL
People, places and things from around the state, includ-ing
a profile of Susie Yazzie, the matriarch of the Navajo
people; the renaissance of a Sedona landmark; and a
restaurant in Tucson that’s right on track.
16 PIECES OF HISTORY
Like most places, Arizona has a colorful history, and
much of it has been memorialized with historic markers.
They’re interesting and informational, but we know that
none of you are going to stop for a history lesson on your
way to somewhere else. So, we’re suggesting you make
the markers a destination, not a pit stop. Begin with Big
Dry Wash, and then make your way down our list.
BY NORM TESSMAN
28 ON A DARK DESERT
Historic Route 66, Carefree Highway ... those are among
the state’s most famous thoroughfares. Pinal Pioneer
Parkway is a road that few have ever heard of. Jack
Dykinga is one of the few. He spent a year driving
up and down the desert highway, and he had
his camera along for the ride.
A PORTFOLIO BY JACK DYKINGA
38 ROUNDUP OF THE
Ranching is big in Arizona. Or at least it was. For many
reasons, running cattle is a vanishing way of life. The
Herefords, the horses, the ranchers themselves ...
they’re slowly disappearing. That’s why Scott Baxter
set out to preserve their collective history, one
photograph at a time.
BY KELLY KRAMER
PHOTOGRAPHS BY SCOTT BAXTER
46 PIESTEWA PEAK
In 2008, a Phoenix landmark lost its name and gained a
new identity. Craig Childs wasn’t crazy about the change
— he thought it reeked of political correctness — but
a night on the mountain had him whispering Piestewa,
AN ESSAY BY CRAIG CHILDS
PHOTOGRAPHS BY SUZANNE MATHIA
52 SCENIC DRIVE
Joshua Tree Parkway: Why drive to California for Joshua
trees when you can pile in the car and head to Wikieup?
54 HIKE OF THE MONTH
Casner Canyon Trail: There are plenty of great trails in the
Sedona area. This is the best one you’ve never heard of.
56 WHERE IS THIS?
2 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 3
Dubbed the designated family pho-tographer
at a young age, Suzanne
Mathia has been making images
since what she affectionately calls
the “film days.” But it wasn’t until she
attended an Arizona Highways photo
workshop that she found her niche.
“I was around people who enjoyed
what I enjoyed,” she says. “We were
just happy sitting there waiting for sunsets and sunrises.” After her introduction to the
Arizona wilderness, Mathia began shooting everything and anything in her path, includ-ing
Phoenix’s Piestewa Peak (see page 46). A 15-year resident of Arizona, she says her
home has everything she needs. “Within a couple of hours I can be on the Paria Plateau
or at the Grand Canyon, or travel east to the White Mountains or south to the Chirica-huas.”
Mathia’s work has also appeared in National Geographic.
Dykinga has made a
living by blending his
with large-scale land-scape
Tucson resident who
lives at the base of the
Santa Catalina Moun-tains,
Arizona offers people
a chance at solitude. “The reason you live here is for the quality of life. It’s a different
pace.” In this month’s portfolio, Dykinga’s lens captures a scenic drive near Florence,
a place that epitomizes solitude (see On a Dark Desert Highway ..., page 28). Dykinga
is a longtime contributor to Arizona Highways, and next month he’ll be honored by the
North American Nature Photography Association as Outstanding Nature Photographer
of 2011, an award that recognizes his talent behind the lens, as well as his passion for
nature and environmental issues.
— Interviewed by Allison Oswalt
Fort Bowie National Historic Site. If anyone ever asks you to name one of the
most beautiful and least-visited national parks in the country, that’s the
answer. I didn’t believe it either. In fact, when a friend told me she’d heard about the
ranking on NPR, I thought maybe she was having a hard time reading her hand-scribbled
note. Fort Bowie? Really? Turns out, she was right.
A few years ago, members of the Coalition of National Park Service Retirees
decided to share their insights by identifying the 10 most beautiful and least-visited
national parks in the United States — the nearly 400-member group accounts for a
total of more than 11,000 years’ worth of NPS experience, so they know what they’re
talking about. Among their top 10 was Fort Bowie, which sits in Southeastern Ari-zona
and commemorates the history of the bitter conflict between the Apaches and
the U.S. military. The fort is a long haul from civilization, but it’s worth the drive.
And so is every other site in this month’s cover story.
In all, we feature 20 of the state’s historic landmarks. Before you reach for another
magazine, I know what you’re thinking: Historic landmarks? B-O-R-I-N-G. I drive past
those things all the time. Why would anybody stop? It’s a good question, and you’re not alone
in your apathy. In an informal poll of about seven people conducted in the checkout
line at REI in Tempe, exactly zero shoppers had ever stopped at a roadside marker.
I guess they were too intent on getting to the trailhead, which is why we decided to
do this story.
We know that none of you are going to stop for a history lesson on your way to
somewhere else. So, we’re suggesting you make the historic markers a destination, not
a pit stop. Begin with Fort Bowie, and then make your way down the list. By the time
you’re finished, you’ll have seen a good chunk of the state, and you’ll have learned
something along the way. Of course, our list is just the beginning. There are many
other landmarks in Arizona, including Piestewa Peak.
Although it’s best known for its geographic prominence, the rugged mountain
in North Phoenix has an impressive history, as
well, including the etymology of its name. For
decades, the mountain was known as Squaw
Peak, but because the word “squaw” is a deroga-tory
term for Native American women, the name
was nixed, and in 2008 the peak was officially
renamed for Lori Piestewa, a Hopi woman who
was killed at the onset of the Iraq War — she
was the first Native American woman to die in
combat on foreign soil.
Writer Craig Childs wasn’t crazy about the
name change — he thought it reeked of political
correctness — but a night on the mountain and
a better understanding of the new name helped
change his mind. Like every essay by Craig
Childs, this one’s superb, and it’s accompanied
by the brilliant photography of Suzanne Mathia.
If you’re a frequent reader of Arizona Highways,
you know that Suzanne has become one of our
premier photographers. We’re continually blown
away by her work, and “WOW” is how we usu-ally
respond when she drops something off. We
have the same reaction to Scott Baxter’s photog-raphy.
As you’ll see in Roundup of the Century, his
black-and-white portraits are as good as any-thing
we’ve ever published.
Roundup of the Century is a story about Baxter
and his opus, a collection of photographs he’s
calling “100 Years, 100 Ranchers.” The massive
portfolio, which has been designated an official
Centennial Legacy Project, documents the lives
of men and women whose families have been
working Arizona’s open range for at least a cen-tury
or more. The project won’t be completed
until Arizona’s Centennial in February 2012, but
after a few beers in Sedona, Scott was willing to
give us a sneak preview.
It’s an impressive collection, and the photo-graphs
will eventually appear in galleries around
the state. But that’s not why Baxter has spent
three years and more than $100,000 of his own
money on the project. As Kelly Kramer writes:
“For Baxter, it isn’t about the exhibitions or his
name in lights. It’s about maintaining a piece of
Mission accomplished. If you love cowboy his-tory,
you’re going to love this story. If you prefer
the history of cowboys and Indians, head to Fort
Bowie. It’s one of the most beautiful and least-visited
parks in the country.
ROBERT STIEVE, editor
If you like what you see in this
magazine every month, check
out Arizona Highways Television,
an Emmy Award-winning pro-gram
hosted by former news
anchor Robin Sewell. For broad-cast
times, visit our website,
click the Arizona Highways Televi-sion
link on our home page.
ARIZONA HIGHWAYS TV
Follow me on Twitter: www.twitter.com/azhighways.
letter SCOTT BAXTER
For Scott Baxter, photographing the
Southwest comes as naturally as rid-ing
a bicycle. Or in his case, a horse.
Although the avid rider’s work has
appeared in galleries across the United
States, Mexico and Japan, it’s his
Arizona-specific work that he’s most
focused on lately, specifically, his “100
Years, 100 Ranchers” project (see
Roundup of the Century, page 38). “The
ranching tradition in Arizona is enduring
and important,” Baxter says. “My goal is to recognize these families that have struggled
to survive and persevere in these difficult times.” Arizona Highways will feature images
from Baxter’s collection each month until the Arizona Centennial in February 2012.
History, Hopis and Horses
F E B R UA R Y 2 0 1 1 V O L . 8 7, N O. 2
Arizona Highways® (ISSN 0004-1521) is published
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Letters to the Editor
2039 W. Lewis Avenue
Phoenix, AZ 85009
JANICE K. BREWER
Director, Department of Transportation
JOHN S. HALIKOWSKI
Arizona Transportation Board
ROBERT M. MONTOYA
WILLIAM J. FELDMEIER
FELIPE ANDRES ZUBIA
BARBARA ANN LUNDSTROM
VICTOR M. FLORES
STEPHEN W. CHRISTY
KELLY O. ANDERSON
4 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 5
letters to the editor
I would like to offer my sincere
compliments for the special all-photography
issue of Arizona Highways
[December 2010]. My wife and I were
delighted about the beautiful range
of photographs of different spots in
Arizona. Many of them are really
amazing. We are Dutch and live in
the Netherlands, a country that has
quite another kind of nature; it’s also
beautiful, but completely different.
We have visited Arizona twice, stay-ing
with friends in Tucson and mak-ing
many trips with them, but also on
our own for a couple of weeks. Since
our first visit in 2000, our friends, the
Golds, have given us a subscription to
Arizona Highways. We have had it long
enough to give you this reaction on
your very special December issue.
JAN POSTMA, BRUMMEN, NETHERLANDS
THAT DAM COVER
I’ve put off writing this letter, but feel
I need to speak up anyway. I love your
magazine, but [the November 2010
cover] is the worst ever, for sure. I’ve
visited the Glen Canyon reservoir, as
I call it, many times, and I’ve hiked
most of its beautiful side canyons.
Since the drought began in 2000,
it’s amazing how life is returning to
them. I’m one of those who would
love to see it drained, or at least low-ered,
and so your cover, to me, is the
equivalent of a photo of a man with a
gun to his head — a moment before
it goes off. I see only ugliness and
destruction in it.
CRISTA WORTHY, LOS ANGELES
The cover of the November issue
is fantastic, as it shows a piece of
Arizona history seen by only a few
adventurous folks almost 55 years
ago. The “Then & Now” portfolio was
the best new feature to appear in the
magazine in the last decade. It’s so
impressive that, as we approach the
state’s Centennial, it should be incor-porated
into every issue, recalling
various views either still available, or
lost over the years.
GARY H. SCOTT, CORONA, ARIZONA
EDITOR’S NOTE: Great suggestion, Gary. In fact,
we’re on the same page. Beginning in March 2011,
we’ll be presenting a monthly “then & now” combo
as part of our Centennial coverage.
A BUNCH OF HAMS
I really enjoyed the photos and
information about Barry Goldwater
[A Goldwater Family Album] in the
September 2010 issue. It brings back
memories of a trip to the Phoenix area
for an American Radio Relay League
Convention at which Barry was the
featured speaker. He also allowed
tours of his amateur radio station at
his home. I took the tour and Barry
was there to greet and shake hands
with the attendees. I understand he
actually met every busload of hams
that toured his station that weekend.
I was pleased and impressed with his
accessibility to everyone.
FRED FINKE, CANYONVILLE, OREGON
SECOND TO ONE
I know that Arizona Highways doesn’t
want to flaunt the greatness of
Arizona too much. And your port-folio
[Branching Out] in the August
2010 issue did reflect some pretty big
trees, but I think you missed a golden
opportunity to prove once again
that Arizona isn’t the hot, dry, bar-ren
patch of sand that some people
imagine. There’s an organization
called American Forests that’s the
recorder of the largest tree of each
species in the United States (www.
trees). It recognizes 733 champion or
co-champion trees in their register
covering 637 individual species. The
“Green State” of Ohio, where I live,
has all of 10 championship trees on
the list (pretty pitiful). California has
73 champions for fourth place, Texas
has 77 for third place, and Florida
has 99 for first place. Oops, I missed
second place. That hot, dry, barren
patch of sand called Arizona has 91
champions and is second in the United
States. Now that is worth flaunting.
By the way, I was born and raised in
Phoenix, majored in forestry at what
is now Northern Arizona University,
and worked several summers for the
U.S. Forest Service near Payson and
Kohl’s Ranch. My Arizona Highways
subscription began in 1964 when I
graduated from NAU.
PAUL DODDS, ZANESVILLE, OHIO
If you have
we’d love to hear
from you. We can
be reached at
by mail at 2039
W. Lewis Avenue,
85009. For more
A horse is a horse, of course, and this
spectacular photograph by Scott Baxter
is one of our favorites. The image, which
is included in Baxter’s “100 Years, 100
Ranchers” project (see page 38), illustrates
the noble beauty of an animal that’s
played an important role in the history of
Arizona and the Old West. Information:
people > lodging > photography > history > dining > nature > things to do > > > > THE JOURNAL 02.11
6 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 7
THE JOURNAL > people
— Dave Pratt is the author of
Behind the Mic: 30 Years in Radio
SUSIE YAZZIE SITS BEFORE her upright
loom on a low stool, regal as a queen on her
throne. On this day, the “grandmother of
Monument Valley” wears
a pink satin skirt, purple
velveteen blouse and
chunky turquoise jewelry. Her thinning
silver hair is tied at the base of her neck in
the traditional hourglass shape.
At the sight of visitors, the creases in
Susie’s age-spotted face deepen into a smile.
She exchanges a few words in Navajo with
her daughter, Effie. Susie wants to know
about the guests Effie has brought. She
asks if they’ve been there before.
Nodding, satisfied, Susie plucks a hand-ful
of wool from the fluffy mound near
her stool. She cards it, combing the wool
until the fibers are clean and orderly. Then
she pulls the wool off into a fluffy roll
and feeds it onto the tip of a long, wooden
spindle. Rubbing the shaft of the spindle
against her thigh, Susie works the wool
into a spool of thick yarn.
Although she speaks little English, Susie
has welcomed a great many visitors. Her
hogan has been a frequent stop on guided
tours of Monument Valley for decades.
She has appeared in John Ford movies, as
well as many books, documentaries and
magazines, including Arizona Highways. Her
image has even graced bags of Frito-Lay’s
Yet for all her celebrity, Yazzie has lived a
traditional Navajo life for close to 100 years
— raising sheep, carding wool, weaving
rugs — all without the benefit of electricity
or running water. She’s a medicine woman
of sorts, a midwife who delivered two of her
own grandchildren, and a hand trembler,
adept at the ancient Navajo practice used to
diagnose illness or find lost objects.
The oldest girl of eight children, Susie’s
Navajo name roughly translates to “fair-skinned
woman.” It was her late husband,
Tully, who gave Susie her Anglo name.
Though the exact date of her birth is
unknown, Susie was born in the spring,
sometime around 1917. Her birthday is cel-ebrated
on tax day.
She learned to weave as a young girl.
Her mother was often sick, so Susie took
on most of the family chores. She tended
sheep and scaled the surrounding sand-stone
mesas for rainwater that collected in
depressions, carrying it back in a sumac
The Matriarch of Monument Valley
Although she’s a local legend who’s been featured in movies,
Susie Yazzie has lived a traditional Navajo life for close to 100
years — raising sheep, carding wool, weaving rugs — and her
hogan has been a frequent stop on guided tours of Monument
Valley for decades.
By KATHY MONTGOMERY
As a former NFL player, you’ve traveled all
over the country. What are some common
misconceptions about Arizona?
The perception of Arizona can be pretty
twisted to people who have never been here,
especially to people in the Midwest. People
think it’s the Wild West and that it’s all sa-guaros
and scorpions. My wife, for example,
was hesitant to move here after spending
most of her life in southeastern Michigan.
Once she got a taste of desert living, though,
she was hooked.
What’s your favorite Arizona memory?
My favorite place in Arizona is A Mountain
in Tempe, next to Sun Devil Stadium. Just
looking at the butte brings back so many
memories. We used to run up that sucker
three times in one workout for conditioning.
It represents hard work, dedication and com-mitment
Where’s the best place to watch an ASU
Sun Devil Stadium, of course, but I love
University of Phoenix Stadium, too. We went
to the Super Bowl there when the Giants beat
the Patriots. I will never forget watching Tom
Petty play at halftime.
After you’ve wrapped up a game-day broad-cast,
where do you like to grab a bite to eat?
The Native New Yorker at Broadway and
Dorsey in Tempe. It was there when I played
at ASU, way back when the wings cost 10
cents. It was a family tradition to go after a
game, and it still is. My favorite wings are
honey-hot and hot.
If you could have an Arizona celebrity as your
next-door neighbor, who would it be?
I would like to live next to Kevin McCabe.
Kevin and I go way back to my ASU days, and
he’s always been a great person to be around.
Now that I’m an adult, too, we can actually sit
around, talk football and drink beer. Back then,
that might have been a major problem.
Three words to describe Arizona?
Proud, strong, beautiful.
basket lined with piñon pitch.
When Susie was perhaps 16, her mother
became very ill while pregnant with
her last child and had to be taken to the
hospital. The family was living in the
summer shade house at the time. When
the weather grew cold, Susie’s mother had
still not come home. Susie never saw her
again. But her father returned with a baby
brother, then wandered off in his grief,
leaving Susie to care for the baby and all
the other children.
Susie appealed to trader Harry Gould-ing
for help. By then the man the Navajos
called “tall sheep” was coming around
regularly selling groceries and other goods
from his wagon. He kept an eye on the
family, giving Susie condensed milk for the
baby and trading rugs she had woven for
other necessities. He also started bringing
Susie posed for photos for the tourists,
and eventually began giving weaving dem-onstrations.
The income helped support
the family, but it was Susie’s marriage that
finally made her life easier. The work her
husband found off the reservation sup-ported
the family, and when he returned
home he brought wagons, mattresses and
When Goulding convinced John Ford
to use Monument Valley as a backdrop
for Ford’s Western films, Susie, Tully and
Effie were among the Navajos hired to
work as extras. Susie also performed in My
Darling Clementine, and all three appeared
in Cheyenne Autumn.
Colette Waddell, who recorded the
stories of the entire Yazzie family for a yet-unpublished
book, says Susie was directed
to do the things she normally did: mostly
to get on a horse and ride around.
At one point, Waddell says, Susie and
her husband had trouble cashing their
paychecks from the studio and had to
travel to Los Angeles. It may have been the
only time Susie left the reservation.
“She was not at all impressed,” Waddell
says. “She called it the hot country. Can
you imagine? She lives in Monument Val-ley
and thought Los Angeles was the hot
While she was there, Susie got her
name tattooed on her forearm, perhaps
so she would remember how to sign her
name. That gave her the ability to execute
contracts, but she didn’t always under-stand
what she was signing, Waddell says.
Like the time a photographer came to
the reservation and got Susie to sign away
her rights to the photos he took. Her image
ended up on bags of Frito-Lay’s Santa Fe
But Waddell believes Susie’s real joy
has been hosting the tourists she refers to
“That’s what keeps her going strong,”
Waddell says. “It’s what keeps her alive.”
P R A T T ’ S Q&A
THE JOURNAL > people
Susie Yazzie works at her loom, creating a traditional Navajo rug. | STEPHANOS ANTONIADES
M O N U M E N T
V A L L E Y
8 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 9
Some Light on the Subject
“Painting with light” is a technique we’ve covered in this column before.
In the past it was focused on small-scale subjects, but this month,
thanks to some bigger flashlights, the sky’s the limit.
By JEFF KIDA, photo editor
MONET COULD HAVE LIVED anywhere. He chose a spot along the Seine in the South of
France. It’s hard to argue with his choice. His estate in Giverny ranks as one of the most
spectacular settings in all of Europe. Had he lived in Arizona, the French impressionist
would have undoubtedly been drawn to an equally spectacular setting along
the banks of Oak Creek. And once he got there, he would have chosen to live
at L’Auberge de Sedona. The resort, which was rated “One of America’s 75
Top Hotels” by Conde Nast Traveler, occupies one of Arizona’s premier pieces of waterfront
Although a Motel 6 could thrive in such a location, L’Auberge is anything but. For 25 years,
the luxury resort has been impressing guests with a seamless blend of indoor-outdoor living and
all of the amenities of a French country lodge. And now, with a $25 million upgrade and expan-
On the Waterfront
For 25 years, L’Auberge de Sedona has been impressing guests with its
luxury accommodations along the banks of Oak Creek. Now, with a
$25 million upgrade ... well, it doesn’t get any better than this.
By ROBERT STIEVE
sion ... well, it doesn’t get any better than this.
Among other things, the rejuvenation
includes 64 new or redesigned cottages,
a new guest arrival building, a swimming
pool, a redesign of the spa, and the addition
of an outdoor wine bar called The Veranda.
The latter makes a great complement to
the acclaimed L’Auberge Restaurant on
Oak Creek, which was featured in Arizona
Highways’ 2008 edition of Best Restaurants in
Arizona and is a AAA Four-Diamond award
winner. If you’ve never been, the accolades
are justified. With the possible exception of
a picnic table at Phantom Ranch, there isn’t
a more scenic place in the state to enjoy a
meal. And nothing against Phantom Ranch,
but you won’t find David Schmidt at the bot-tom
of the Grand Canyon.
Schmidt, who serves as the executive chef
at L’Auberge, works with guests to prepare
personalized tasting menus that incorporate
their preferences and dietary requirements.
Every course is then carefully paired with one
of the restaurant’s 1,000-plus wine selec-tions.
Welcome to L’Auberge de Sedona.
Gourmet cuisine notwithstanding, it’s the
Mother Nature that stands out most at the
resort, and prior to the renovation, it was
the creekside cottages that got most of the
attention. There’s a reason for that. They’re
idyllically situated among the cottonwoods
and sycamores that shelter Oak Creek, and
the natural surroundings are more impres-sive
than those in the South of France.
If you want lush, request a cottage on the
waterfront. If you want views, opt for one of
the new Vista Cottages. Here’s why: Floor-to-
ceiling windows offer panoramic views of
Sedona’s world-famous red rocks, including
Giant’s Thumb and Elephant Rock. And like
the cottages below, the Vista Cottages are
roomy — ranging from 750 to 1,000 square
feet — and they’re loaded with amenities
such as private open-air showers, 42-inch
LCD TVs, gas fireplaces, luxurious linens,
Molton Brown bath products and more.
However, the best thing about a Vista Cot-tage
is its expansive redwood deck. It’s there
you’ll be inspired by the views. It’s there
you’ll want to eat your dinner. And it’s there
you’ll set up your camera. Unless, of course,
you’re like Monet,
in which case you’ll
pull out an easel.
Talk about a room
with a view.
L’Auberge de Sedona is
located at 301 L’Auberge
Lane in Sedona. For more
information, call 928-
282-1661 or visit www.
THE RIGHT LIGHT
If you’d like to try
“painting with light,”
here are a couple
of things to keep in
mind: First, start with
a small, manageable
subject. Second, be
aware that different
light sources produce
of light (color
that uses a traditional
tungsten bulb will
bathe your subject
in warm yellow-gold
light. A newer LED
flashlight produces a
much cooler blue light,
giving your artwork a
Look for our book, Arizona
Guide, available at book-stores
THEJOURNAL > photography
O N L I N E
For more photography
tips, visit www.arizona
THE JOURNAL > lodging
TO CAPTURE THIS IMAGE, Tucson-based photographer Randy Prentice perched his Canon 5D MK II digital
camera with a 24 mm tilt/shift lens on a sturdy tripod. While setting up the shot with my assistance, our tests
indicated that the longest exposure we could use would be 30 seconds. A longer exposure would have revealed
movement in the stars, rendering them streaks rather than pinpoints of light. As daylight waned, we worked
with 2D Cell Maglite flashlights, which produce tungsten-balanced (warm) light, knowing they’d cast the
walls of Fort Bowie in a warm, golden-brown color to contrast with the inky, starry sky. Using the LCD, along
with the histogram on the camera, we were able to dial in pleasing compositions with correct exposures. This
photo was shot at 1600 ISO for 30 seconds at f/6.3. Note the Big Dipper hanging out in the center of the sky — a
pretty good capture for a couple of old-school photographers armed with nothing more than a pair of flashlights.
Fort Bowie National Historic Site | RANDY PRENTICE
O N L I N E For more lodging in Arizona, visit www.arizonahighways.com/lodging.
S E D O N A
10 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 11
IN THE MID- TO LATE 19TH CENTURY, cemeteries throughout
the West held the graves of settlers, soldiers and pioneers who
had died from almost anything but natural causes. Military
battles, mining accidents, gunfights, bites and
stings from poisonous reptiles and insects, and
diseases such as cholera and malaria were a few
of the dangers that plagued Territorial Arizona, and at the time,
medical standards were lax to say the least.
Almost anyone could claim to be a doctor, so the Territory was
filled with its share of quacks, snake-oil salesmen and “sawbones.”
What the Doctors Ordered
With Mayo Clinic, Barrow Neurological
Institute, et al. in our backyard, Arizona is
a mecca for medical attention. Back in the
Territorial days, however, the best a patient
could hope for was a healthy dose of quinine,
laudanum, chewing tobacco or even arsenic.
By SALLY BENFORD
In February 1961, Glen Canyon Dam was
still stirring controversy, and our issue that
month offered a progress report on its con-struction.
The issue also featured Coconino
County, from Flagstaff and Williams to Oak
Creek and the Grand Canyon.
50 years ago
I N A R I Z O N A H I G H W A Y S
THEJOURNAL > history THEJOURNAL > history
in the Wild West
required courage and
creativity — a military
surgeon seldom trav-eled
without his ampu-tation
kit, and dentists
and doctors regularly
prescribed such odd
medicines as quinine,
tobacco and even
arsenic to “cure” their
patients. They rode
through rough coun-try
to mining camps,
towns and ranches,
and attacks by outlaws
and Indians alike. And
many worked with
resources to raise the
standard of care.
Some notable doctors started their
medical careers at Arizona military posts.
In 1876, Dr. Walter Reed served at Fort
Lowell, and later, at Fort Apache. Accord-ing
to Dr. Robert Kravetz, author of Health-seekers
in Arizona, Reed spent a year at a
mosquito-infested post on Rillito Creek,
studying problems created by the insects.
“He recommended a later hour for reveille
and noted that malaria patients were
responding well to quinine.” The opportu-nity
for observation on the Arizona frontier
served Reed well — he later proved that
some illnesses, such as yellow fever, were
Like Reed, Dr. George Goodfellow practiced in Arizona. Dur-ing
his time in Tombstone, he worked to improve medical practices.
When a hospital of “the finest quality” opened in Tombstone in 1885,
Goodfellow served as its director and instituted instrument steriliza-tion
practices. He also performed the first appendectomy in Arizona.
When it came to dentists, Doc Holliday may have been the most
famous tooth-yanker in Arizona, even though he didn’t practice his
trade in the Territory. Some doctors acted as dentists, pulling teeth
and prescribing medicines that contained alcohol, narcotics or a
combination of both. Eventually, as technology advanced in the early
1900s, the number of dental practitioners increased, and modern
offices included reclining chairs, a self-cleaning spittoon, dental
instruments and an electric drill. An 1896 edition of the Arizona
Gazette published a dentist’s ad that offered silver fillings for $1.50,
gold fillings for $2 and extractions for 50 cents — an amount that was
marked down to 25 cents on Saturdays, which, even in those days,
was a bargain.
COURTESY SHARLOT HALL MUSEUM
■ Cochise, the
chief, was arrested
on February 4, 1861,
by the U.S. Army for
raiding a Southern
Arizona ranch. He
later escaped and
declared war on
white settlers and
the start of the Ari-zona
which lasted for 25
■ As part of the
Glen Canyon Dam
project, Glen Can-yon
on February 20,
1959. At the time,
the bridge was the
bridge in the world,
rising 700 feet
above the Colorado
River. The cost to
build the bridge was
■ On February 21,
1930, murderess Eva
Dugan was hanged
at Arizona State
Prison in Florence.
During the botched
was decapitated, re-sulting
in the state
switching to the
gas chamber as an
believing it to be
T O M B S T O N E
During the 1930s, hundreds of
members of the Civilian
Conservation Corps worked on
creating and improving public
projects in Arizona, leaving a
solid legacy of bridges, roads,
buildings and trails throughout
the state. One of those projects
was at Vail’s Colossal Cave,
where workers constructed the
entrance, lighting, trails, retain-ing
walls, handrails and build-ings.
Over the years, thousands
of visitors to Colossal Cave
Mountain Park have discovered
the cave’s natural wonders and
the history of the adjacent La
Posta Quemada Ranch, as well
as the area’s surrounding
beauty. Information: 520-647-
7275 or www.colossalcave.com
COURTESY COLOSSAL CAVE MOUNTAIN PARK
12 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 13
THEJOURNAL > nature
MOVE OVER, WYATT AND DOC, there’s some new bronze at the restored Southern Pacific
Railroad Station at the east end of downtown Tucson. In addition to your sculpted images,
there’s a splash of bronze on the skin of the many al fresco diners at May-nards
Market & Kitchen.
The outdoor area between the depot and the tracks is a popular place. At one
table, a woman in a blue tank top and shorts is sunning her feet, which she’s placed on top of
her flip-flops. At another table, two young mothers, their babies in strollers, are visiting and
laughing. One says, “They also serve wine.” Nearby, three women in business suits are eating
On the Right Tracks
Located in downtown Tucson’s bustling train depot, Maynards
Market & Kitchen is turning heads with its sandwiches, organic
entrées and seating in the sun.
By BRUCE ITULE
salads and discussing some sort of peer-review
process. One more patron, whose hair
is monsoon gray, is telling her dining com-panion
about the times her father took her to
the depot as a child to watch the trains.
The bronzes of Wyatt Earp and Doc Hol-liday
are 120 steps away. They’re standing
guard over the place, just a short distance
northwest of the station, where Earp shot
and killed Frank Stilwell on March 20, 1882.
History has it that Earp was still dealing
with his enemies after the October 26, 1881,
shootout near the O.K. Corral in Tombstone.
The busiest part of today’s restored
depot, where Amtrak trains arrive and
depart six days a week and Union Pacific
giants clatter past 24/7, is the south end.
That’s where Maynards draws tourists
and locals to shop in the market, eat at the
kitchen or relax at the adjoining coffee and
espresso bar, which switches to wine, beer
and cocktails by late afternoon.
The market and kitchen is named for
Maynard Dixon, an early 20th century
painter and illustrator who painted four
murals at the current train station, which
was built in 1907 and replaced the wooden
depot built between 1880 and 1881.
Maynards Market sells a variety of unique
food and other products, many of them pro-duced
by Arizonans. The kitchen serves break-fast,
lunch and dinner seven days a week, and
there are special events throughout the year.
At lunch, you can order a Cuban pork
sandwich with Gruyére cheese, pickles,
jalapeños, caramelized onions and lime
juice. There’s also imported tuna, which is
served on a grilled baguette. (Wouldn’t any
tuna in Tucson be imported?)
At dinner, there’s organic eggplant that’s
marinated, charbroiled and served with
mushroom sauté. There’s roasted tomato
risotto and watercress salad, or grilled
Scottish salmon with olive oil, herbs and
The desserts are homemade daily, and
include flourless chocolate hazelnut cake
and pomegranate panna cotta.
As for the customers, they range from
toddlers to elders on canes. Some people are
in suits, others in shorts.
There are to-go order-ers
in a hurry and Wi-
Fiers who aren’t.
Go figure, Wyatt.
There’s even Wi-Fi.
Maynards Market &
Kitchen is located at
400 N. Toole Avenue
in Tucson. For more
information, call 520-
545-0577 or visit www.
THEJOURNAL > dining
For residents of outlying areas such as
Litchfield Park, Bullhead City, Oro Valley
and many others, the sight of a burrowing
owl perched on a fence post or scurrying
through a plot of seemingly barren land is
Although adult owls exude a kind of self-assuredness,
standing tall on watchtowers
to protect their burrows, they’re actually
quite small, rising a mere 10 inches from
the ground and weighing only 6 ounces, on
But don’t let their size fool you. The owls
might be small, but they carry the proverbial
big stick. Their hoo-hoos, rasps, chucks, chat-ters
and screams can be heard from miles
away, and when threatened, the owlets
make a low, rattlesnake-like buzz to warn off
predators and alert the adults.
Burrowing owls thrive in most states west
of the Mississippi River, but unlike other owl
species, they live underground in a series
of tunnels that can span a 2-mile radius.
Because of the nature of their subterranean
homes, these little creatures are drawn to
sparsely vegetated, dry grasslands and agri-cultural
In Arizona, habitats are continually threat-ened
by land development. When bulldozers
begin bulldozing, the burrows become tombs
because the owls tend to recede farther into
the ground instead of fleeing. When the
land is left intact, however, desert dwellings
provide an abundance of insects, rodents
and small amphibians that make the owls’
mouths water. Their favorite insects are
crunchy scarab beetles, stinging scorpions
and crispy crickets.
On occasion, they treat themselves to
prickly pear and cholla cactus fruit, which is a
behavior unique to burrowing owls.
Turns out, their desert-floor diet isn’t only
good for their stomachs, it also helps control
the population of tropical house geckos and
field mice, especially when the owls have a
family of four to five owlets to feed.
Nesting season begins in late March or
early April, when female owls begin gather-ing
a wide variety of organic materials to
build their nests. The most common compo-nent
is mammal dung. Researchers believe
the dung helps control the microclimate of
the burrow and might even attract insects for
the owls to feed on.
Female owls lay one or two eggs a day
until they collect a clutch of about nine eggs.
At that point they spend a month incubating
their eggs while the males tend to the hunting.
And the system seems to be working. Bur-rowing
owls are to rural Arizona what pigeons
are to the inner city. They’ve been spotted
nesting on irrigation canals, golf courses and
even near airports, which only seems natural
for such self-assured little creatures.
Hoo Are You? Hoo, Hoo, Hoo, Hoo?
They’re not the rock stars of the owl kingdom — that label probably belongs
to the spotted owls — but if they could, burrowing owls would smash a
guitar over the heads of any obsessed intruder who tried invading their
underground spaces. BY JODI CISMAN
BRUCE D. TAUBERT
Known for being creatures of the night,
Great Plains toads are most commonly
associated with their loud cries after a
rainstorm. During those wet periods, the
male toads let loose a breeding call that
has been likened to the baaaing of sheep.
In Arizona, Great Plains toads can be
found hiding in deep, moist burrows and
under flat rocks, biding their time until
the next storm.
BRUCE D. TAUBERT
T U C S O N
O N L I N E For more dining in Arizona, visit www.arizonahighways.com/dining.
14 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1
THEJOURNAL > things to do
24th Annual Winterfest
F E BRUA RY 1 -2 8 F L AGS TA F F
Celebrating winter in Arizona, this festival
features more than 100 events, including
cross-country and downhill skiing, ice-skating,
snow sculpture, snow softball, a parade, con-certs
and art shows. Information: 800-842-
7293 or www.flagstaffarizona.org
Gem & Mineral Show
F E BRUA RY 1 1 - 1 4 T UCSON
Each February, Tucson transforms into a bazaar with displays of
“nature’s art” lining the streets and filling exhibit halls. Join thousands
of people at the “world’s largest treasure hunt,” where you can pur-chase
meteorites, lustrous gems and minerals, jewelry and fossils at
more than 50 sites around town. Information: 520-624-1817 or www.
Festival of the Arts
F E BRUA RY 1 0 - 1 4 T UBAC
This is the major arts event of the year for
an already art-centric town. The longest
running event of its kind in the Southwest,
this festival showcases the work of hun-dreds
of artists. A food court and musical
entertainment round out the event. Infor-mation:
520-398-2704 or www.tubacaz.com/
F E BRUA RY 1 1 - 1 3 PHOEN I X
Ballet Arizona celebrates its 25th anniversary season with a lively ballet this month. Filled with
technical dancing, elaborate sets, a sparkling score and Cupid, gypsies and Spanish dances,
Don Quixote is a festive and colorful comedy. It’s one of many great performances that will be
performed during the silver anniversary of this innovative ballet company. Information: 602-381-
1096 or www.balletaz.org
The vibrant culture of the Tucson barrio shows in its colorful door-ways,
which are often surrounded by brightly painted adobe walls
and potted agaves, cactuses and tropical plants. Make plans to join
for the Arizona
Gold Rush Days
F E BRUA RY 1 0 - 1 3 W IC K EN BURG
More than 145 years ago, Henry Wickenburg discovered gold in the
hills near the town that now bears his name. Celebrate Wickenburg’s
gold-mining legacy during this annual festival, which boasts a classic
car show, a carnival, a barbecue, a pancake breakfast, gold-panning,
an Old West shootout, arts and crafts and a parade, as well as a
concert by John Michael Montgomery. Information: 800-942-5242 or
www.wickenburgchamber.com ARI PLOSKER
How I Spent My
Take a little piece of the desert home with you in an
Arizona-inspired pendant, exclusively at French on Main.
Designer/owner French Thompson provides an ever-changing
and plentiful array of the exotic, sure-to-be-noticed
work of award-winning artists in this jewel of a
jewelry store in downtown Scottsdale.
French Designer Jeweler
7148 E. Main Street, Scottsdale, AZ 85251
The art is magnificent. The entertainment is unexpect-ed.
The people watching is unsurpassed. It’s Scottsdale
ArtWalk — since 1976 one of the Valley’s greatest cul-tural
traditions — every Thursday from 7-9 pm.
Best of Scottsdale Month — February
Glass Act ArtWalk — February 10
scottsDale arts District
Bring your passion for life.®
Artistic Inspirations in Scottsdale
V i s i t S c o t t s d a l e L u x u r y E x p e r i e n c e . c o m o r c a l l 8 0 0 - 8 3 9 - 9 5 6 7 f o r m o r e i n f o r m a t i o n
Joan Cawley Gallery
“If you are looking for creativity, the unique, the beautiful
and the culturally relevant that depict the Southwest,
please wander in and see our diverse blend of artists;
from the internationally acclaimed to some amazing
David Manje - Opening Reception: April 7, 2011, 7-9 pm
Joan cawley gallery
7135 E. Main St., Scottsdale, AZ 85251
Yellow Totem by David Manje. 48 x 36.” Oil On Canvas
Celebration of Fine Art
The Celebration of Fine Art is the place for art lovers and
artists to connect. 100 juried artists come from around
the country make the signature big white tents their tem-porary
home for 10 weeks each year. The relaxed atmo-sphere
and quality art work is sure to please any art lover.
celebration oF Fine art
January 15 through March 27, 2011
SE corner of Scottsdale Rd. and Mayo Blvd., Scottsdale, AZ
(just off the Loop 101 at Exit 34 in the big white tents)
16 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 17
b y n o r m t e s s m a n
Like most places, Arizona has a colorful history, and much of it has been
memorialized with historic markers. They’re interesting and informational, but
we know that none of you are going to stop for a history lesson on your way
to somewhere else. So, we’re suggesting you make the markers a destination,
not a pit stop. Begin with Big Dry Wash, and then make your way down our list.
Cameron Suspension Bridge, photographed using
only moonlight for illumination, casts eerie shadows
under a starry sky. | SHANE MCDERMOTT
“History, although sometimes made up of the few acts of the great,
is more often shaped by the many acts of the small.” --- MARK YOST
18 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 19
1 BIG DRY WASH
On July 17, 1882, 58 Apaches fled the San Carlos Apache Indian
Reservation. U.S. cavalry troops and Apache scouts chased the “hos-tiles”
to the top of the Mogollon Rim and into the pine-forested
highlands. Warned by scouts of an ambush, the soldiers flanked the
Apaches, killing at least 20 of them — the remaining Apaches escaped
during a blinding hailstorm. The Battle of Big Dry Wash was the last
Apache-versus-Army battle in Arizona, and was likely fueled by the
cavalry’s 1881 attack on a ghost dance along Cibecue Creek. During
that attack, the cavalry killed the revered prophet Nock-ay-det-klinne.
The General Springs/Mogollon Rim marker describing the battle is
located 7 miles south of the actual site, while a stone marker on the
southern end of the site lists the soldiers’ names.
DIRECTIONS: From Payson, drive north on State Route 87 for approximately
28 miles to Forest Road 300 and turn right. Continue on FR 300 for
12 miles to the marker.
INFORMATION: Tonto National Forest, Payson Ranger District, 928-474-
7900 or www.fs.usda.gov/tonto
2 CAMERON SUSPENSION BRIDGE
The Cameron Suspension Bridge, which was built in 1911 in
response to the dangers of flooding and quicksand at Tanner’s Cross-ing
on the Mormon Honeymoon Trail, was once a one-lane bridge for
vehicles across the Little Colorado River Gorge. Today, the bridge
is used to carry an oil pipeline. It was named for Ralph Cameron, a
Grand Canyon miner, trail developer and United States senator. In
1916, Hubert and C.D. Richardson built a trading post near the south
end of the bridge. That post, Historic Cameron Trading Post, still
DIRECTIONS: From the intersection of State Route 64 and U.S. Route 89 in
Cameron, drive north on U.S. 89 for 1.7 miles to the bridge.
INFORMATION: Historic Cameron Trading Post, 800-338-7385 or www.
3 CAMP CRITTENDEN
Named for Thomas Crittenden, a Union hero of the Civil War,
Camp Crittenden was built in 1867 as a base from which to battle the
Apaches. The camp was located near Fort Buchanan, which Union
forces had burned to the ground in 1861 to keep it from falling to the
advancing Confederates. Although troops from Camp Crittenden saw
considerable action from 1870 to 1871, they abandoned the fort on June
1, 1873. The physical remains of Camp Crittenden and Fort Buchanan
are on private property, but the public may view Camp Crittenden’s
DIRECTIONS: From Sonoita, drive west on State Route 82 for 3 miles to
Milepost 29.5. The marker is on the right side of the road.
INFORMATION: Nogales-Santa Cruz County Chamber of Commerce, 520-
287-3685 or www.thenogaleschamber.com
4 COUNCIL ROCKS
East of Benson
Approximately 4 miles southeast of this marker — near Dragoon
Springs — is the site where most historians believe Cochise, the Chir-icahua
Apache chief, and U.S. Army General Oliver O. Howard ratified
a treaty that ended years of warfare. In 1872, Cochise surrendered to
the Army, stipulating that his people’s reservation be located in the
Dragoon Mountains, and that his trusted friend, Tom Jeffords, would
become their agent.
DIRECTIONS: From Benson, drive east on Interstate 10 for 13.5 miles to the
rest area exit on the right at Milepost 320. The marker is on the left side.
INFORMATION: Cochise County Tourism Council, 800-862-5273 or www.
5 DEL RIO SPRINGS
North of Prescott
Camp Whipple, named for Brigadier General Amiel Weeks
Whipple, was established at Del Rio Springs in November 1863. When
fighting between miners and the local Yavapai Indians increased near
Prescott, the fort and its garrison were moved south to the banks of
Granite Creek. In January 1864, Territorial Secretary Richard McCor-mick
and Judge Joseph Pratt Allyn arrived at Fort Whipple with a
California infantry to help defend the fort against Yavapai attacks. The
Territorial government operated from the site for five months that year.
Then, in 1909, the AT&SF Railroad and Fred Harvey Co. bought the
property to supply milk and eggs to Fred Harvey restaurants and as a
winter home for the company’s famed Grand Canyon mules.
DIRECTIONS: From Prescott, drive north on State Route 89 for 22 miles to
the marker, which is located on the east side of the road at Milepost 333.
INFORMATION: Prescott Convention and Visitors Bureau, 928-778-2929 or
6 FARMER-GOODWIN MANSION
In 1886, Hiram Bradford Farmer, the principal and sole instruc-tor
at the Territorial Normal School in Tempe — now Arizona State
University — purchased a one-and-a-half-story, three-year-old Vic-torian-
styled adobe home. His wife began taking in female boarding
students, and the first ASU dormitory was born. Mrs. Libbie Good-win,
wife of former Rough Rider, Territorial legislator and prominent
Tempe rancher J.C. Goodwin, inherited the property in 1902. In 1972,
it was listed on the National Register of Historic Places, and
now ranks as one of the best-preserved and most unique adobe
structures in Arizona.
DIRECTIONS: The home is located at 820 S. Farmer Avenue in Tempe.
INFORMATION: Tempe Arizona Tourism Office, 866-914-1052 or
7 FORT LOWELL
Fort Lowell Park, which was the site of the supply depot
and departmental headquarters for Southern Arizona during
the Apache Wars, includes the sutler’s store, officers’ quarters
and remains of the guardhouse. Established in 1862 near Tuc-son’s
present downtown, the fort was occupied by California
Volunteers who had captured the town from Texas Confed-erates.
In 1873, the post was moved 7 miles northeast to its present
location. More than 250 officers and enlisted soldiers were stationed
at Fort Lowell, but the need for the post declined after Geronimo’s
surrender in 1886. The Army closed the post in 1891. There are three
historic markers at Fort Lowell.
DIRECTIONS: The Fort Lowell Museum is located at 2900 N. Craycroft Road
INFORMATION: Arizona Historical Society, Fort Lowell Museum, 520-885-
Cameron Suspension Bridge | SHANE MCDERMOTT
Farmer-Goodwin Mansion | CRAIG SMITH
Fort Lowell Historic District | RANDY PRENTICE
www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 21
8 FORT VERDE
Originally known as Camp Lincoln, Fort Verde was Major Gen-eral
George Crook’s headquarters during his 1870s campaign in the
Tonto Basin. At the time, Anglo settlers were fighting the Dilzhe’e
Apaches and Yavapai Apaches who lived on the rich lands along the
Verde River. Despite an existing reservation, the government forced
1,400 Yavapai and Apache Indians from the Verde Valley in 1875, push-ing
them onto the San Carlos Apache Indian Reservation. Construction
of 22 new buildings around a parade ground began in 1871, and Camp
Verde was renamed Fort Verde. The buildings were abandoned in 1891.
DIRECTIONS: Fort Verde State Historic Park is located at 125 E. Holloman
Street in Camp Verde.
INFORMATION: Fort Verde State Historic Park, 928-567-3275 or www.
9 FORT BOWIE
Southeast of Willcox
Fort Bowie, which was the site of the Bascom Affair and the
Battle of Apache Pass, also served as home base for the military opera-tions
that led to Geronimo’s surrender. In addition, many of the battles
for control of Apache Spring occurred near Fort Bowie. The military
operated the settlement between 1862 and 1894, and today, the National
Park Service protects the fort’s remaining adobe walls as a National
Historic Site. It’s one of Arizona’s least-visited but best-known land-marks.
DIRECTIONS: From Willcox, drive southeast on State Route 186 for 20 miles
to the Fort Bowie turn off. From there, drive 8 miles on the unpaved road to
the Fort Bowie Trailhead. The hike to the ruins is 1.5 miles one way.
INFORMATION: Fort Bowie National Historic Site, 520-847-2500 or www.
Fort Verde State Historic Park (left) and Fort Bowie National Historic Site (below) played key roles in Arizona’s Indian Wars.
LEFT: Fort Verde State Historic Park BELOW: Fort Bowie National Historic Site
20 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1
22 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 23
St. Mary’s Basilica | CRAIG SMITH
10 FATHER EDOUARD GERARD
In 1881, Father Edouard Gerard founded the first Catholic Church
in Phoenix. As the first priest ordained in Arizona, Gerard tended to
the Catholic people of Phoenix and Florence, where he was pastor of
the Church of the Assumption from 1877 to 1885. He also served as Vicar
General of the Vicariate Apostolic and Diocese of Tucson. It’s there that
the French missionary is buried — in Holy Hope Cemetery. He died in
Prescott on Christmas Day 1936.
DIRECTIONS: The Father Edouard Gerard marker is located at St. Mary’s
Basilica, 231 N. Third Street in downtown Phoenix.
INFORMATION: St. Mary’s Basilica, 602-354-2100 or www.stmarysbasilica.org
11 INDIAN GARDENS
Indian Gardens is the site of the first known Anglo settlement
in the Sedona area. Pioneer James Thompson built a cabin on the site
and cultivated the gardens until his death in 1917. Prior to Thompson’s
arrival, local Yavapai Indians had grown corn and squash in the fertile
soil that lines Oak Creek. The historic marker that pays homage to
Thompson sits beneath a big tree in the shadow of Sedona’s world-famous
DIRECTIONS: From the roundabout intersection of State Route 89A and State
Route 179 in Sedona, drive north for approximately 4 miles on SR 89A. The
marker stands beneath a large tree on the east side of the road, across from
Indian Gardens Store & Deli.
INFORMATION: Sedona Tourism Bureau and Chamber of Commerce, 928-282-
7722 or www.visitsedona.com
12 LAST CAMP OF HI JOLLY
Turkish immigrant Haiji Ali, also known as Hi Jolly, managed the
camels of the 1857 Beale Expedition, which scouted a road route across
Arizona. Although the camels were well-suited to Arizona’s desert ter-rain,
the U.S. War Department abandoned their use and eventually sold
or released them. Ali kept a few of the beasts for himself and used them
to haul freight between Yuma and Tucson. Meanwhile, several camels
escaped. The copper dromedary that sits atop the Hi Jolly Monument
might represent a camel known as Red Ghost, a legendary derelict
camel that wandered the desert with a corpse upon its back, thrashing
whatever humans crossed its path. When Ali died in 1902, the Arizona
Department of Transportation erected the camel-topped monument
and buried Ali with the ashes of the last government-owned camel.
DIRECTIONS: From the Quartzsite exit (Exit 17) off Interstate 10, drive a
short distance to the west end of town, turn right (north) onto Hi Jolly Road
and drive a quarter-mile to Hi Jolly Cemetery. The Last Camp of Hi Jolly
Monument and its historic marker are located at the flagpole.
INFORMATION: Town of Quartzsite, 928-927-4333 or www.ci.quartzsite.az.us
13 LEHNER MAMMOTH KILL SITE
Approximately 11,000 years ago, Paleo-Indians killed and butch-ered
at least nine immature mammoths (North American elephants)
at this site. The animals had probably been drinking at a small creek.
Among the other bones found at Lehner Mammoth Kill Site were
those of tapirs, horses and bison, which led to the site’s designation as
a National Historic Landmark in 1967. A short interpretive trail with
educational panels crosses the site.
DIRECTIONS: From Sierra Vista, drive east on State Route 90 for approximately
3.8 miles to Moson Road. Turn left onto Moson Road and continue
for 0.2 miles to the site.
INFORMATION: Bureau of Land Management, 520-458-3559 or www.blm.
14 MINERAL PARK
Only a few foundations and a cemetery mark what was once the
largest town and the county seat of Mohave County. In 1872, approxi-mately
700 residents called Mineral Park home, but after 1883, an Atlan-tic
and Pacific Railway shortcut to Kingman slowly wiped it out — the
town eventually lost its population and its position as the county seat.
Because the remains of Mineral Park are located on private property,
visitors must obtain permission from the current mine owners before
entering the site.
DIRECTIONS: From Kingman, drive north on U.S. Route 93 to County Road
255 (Milepost 59). The marker is located to the right of the intersection.
INFORMATION: Golden Valley Chamber of Commerce, 928-565-3311 or
15 MORMON HONEYMOON TRAIL
North of Cameron
Until the early 20th century, Mormon couples who wanted to
get married in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints temple
would travel to Saint George, Utah, for the ceremony. Many honey-mooners
later described the three-month wagon journey as one of the
best events of their lives. The eastern route ran through Safford and
followed the Gila River Valley westward. From there, it turned north-ward
through Fort Apache and Show Low, crossed the Little Colorado
River at present-day Winslow, and crossed the Colorado River at Lees
Ferry. The western route, through Phoenix, Mesa and Tempe, headed
north through Fort McDowell to join the other branch of the trail at
Winslow. Today, a marker honoring the Mormon Honeymoon Trail can
be found just north of Cameron.
DIRECTIONS: From Cameron, drive north on U.S. Route 89 for 23 miles to the
INFORMATION: Arizona State Parks, 928-567-3275 or www.azstateparks.
24 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1
16 NAVAJO COUNTY
In 1879, government officials divided
Yavapai County, which was enormous,
into six smaller counties. One of those,
Apache County, was further split to cre-ate
Navajo County, and Holbrook was
named its county seat. There, in 1895, the
county built a huge courthouse with pre-assembled,
escape-proof jail cells in the
basement. Four years later, the infamous
execution of murderer George Smiley
took place at the courthouse. Legend has
it that Smiley’s ghost paces the court-house,
along with the spirit of a woman
known only as “Mary,” who died in one
of the cells. Today, the old courthouse
is home to the chamber of commerce, a
museum and, of course, that old ghost.
DIRECTIONS: The Navajo County Courthouse
is located at 100 E. Arizona Street in
INFORMATION: City of Holbrook, 928-524-
6225 or www.ci.holbrook.az.us
“There’s an old saying
about those who forget
history. I don’t remember
it, but it’s good.”
— STEPHEN COLBERT
www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 25
26 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 27
20 POSTON’S BUTTE
Because of his lobbying efforts for the creation of the Arizona
Territory, Charles Debrille Poston may have been justified when he
billed himself as the “Father of Arizona.” After arriving in the area in
1854, he served as superintendent of Indian Affairs, agricultural agent,
mine promoter, U.S. consul and Arizona’s first congressional delegate.
Although Poston envisioned a Parsi Sun temple on Primrose Hill near
Florence, he never built it. When he died, he was buried in Phoenix, but
was later exhumed and reburied atop his hill, now called Poston’s Butte.
DIRECTIONS: From Florence, drive north on State Route 79 (Pinal Pioneer
Parkway) for 1.7 miles to the historic marker, which is on the left (west) side
of the highway.
INFORMATION: Florence Visitors Center, 866-977-4496 or www.
Pinedale School Bell | NICK BEREZENKO
Palace Saloon | MARK LIPCZYNSKI
17 PALACE SALOON
A description from the Arizona State Inventory of Historic
Places best describes this Whiskey Row icon: “The Palace Hotel
(Saloon) is a two-story masonry structure 75 feet wide and 125 feet
deep. Construction materials included native grey granite, iron and
pressed ornamental bricks.” Three gaming tables encouraged faro,
poker, roulette, kino and craps at the old Palace Saloon, and a glass of
beer would have cost about 5 cents. But in 1900, a Territorial law drove
extensive gambling and “hostesses” from bars, and later, Prohibition
closed all of the saloons. In 1996, owners Dave and Marilyn Michelson
began restoring the saloon to its 1901 appearance.
DIRECTIONS: The Palace Saloon is located at 120 S. Montezuma Street in
INFORMATION: Palace Restaurant and Saloon, 928-541-1996 or www.
18 PICKETPOST MOUNTAIN
Picketpost Mountain was used as a lookout point during the
Indian wars, and a roadside marker is located just east of the entrance
to Boyce Thompson Arboretum. Nearby, at the head of Stoneman Grade
east of the mountain, an outpost of Camp Pinal housed soldiers who
protected Pinal City and the Silver King Mine from Apache raiders.
DIRECTIONS: The historic marker is located at Milepost 223 on U.S. Route
60 in Superior.
INFORMATION: Boyce Thompson Arboretum, 520-689-2811 or www.
19 PINEDALE SCHOOL BELL
For decades, beginning in 1892, the Pinedale School Bell rang to
announce the school day, calling people to church and social events,
and warning of possible disasters. Later, the bell was relocated to a site
between Pinedale and Mortensen, where it rang for both communi-ties.
In 1922, it was moved to another school at its original site — a
heavy snowfall in 1967 demolished the original Pinedale School, but
the bell survived.
DIRECTIONS: The Pinedale School Bell is located at 1300 Pinedale Road in
INFORMATION: Navajo County governmental office, 928-532-6000 or
www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 29
Historic Route 66, Speedway Boulevard, Carefree Highway ... those are among
the state’s most famous thoroughfares. Pinal Pioneer Parkway is a road that few
have ever heard of. Jack Dykinga is one of the few. He spent a year driving up and
down the desert highway, and fortunately, he had his camera along for the ride.
A P O R T F O L I O B Y J A C K D Y K I N G A
ON A DARK DESERT HIGHWAY...
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30 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1
as bats, beneath a
moonlit, starry sky
LEFT: Evening sun-light
adds a glow
to a desert hillside
chollas and chain
S O N O R A N
S T A R S
www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 31
32 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1
LEFT: During midspring, bright pink flowers of strawberry
hedgehog cactuses mingle with Coulter’s lupines on the
Sonoran Desert’s rocky flats and hillsides.
ABOVE: A dense stand of soaring saguaro cactuses catch
a blazing sunrise as the full moon begins to descend
below the horizon.
N E A R A N D F A R
www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 33
Sunrise helps create a luminous landscape filled with
backlit chain fruit chollas along Pinal Pioneer Parkway.
P I N A L P A R A D E
34 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 35
“Everything is connected to everything else.” --- ALDO LEOPOLD
www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 37
A scarlet sunset lights
up dark monsoon clouds
above saguaro silhou-ettes
along the road
between Florence and
F I R E D U P
36 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1
of sights; it
is a change
on, deep and
--- MIRIAM BEARD
38 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 39
Ranching is big in Arizona.
Or at least it was. For many
reasons, running cattle is
a vanishing way of life. The
Herefords, the horses, the
ranchers themselves ...
they’re slowly disappearing.
That’s why Scott Baxter set
out to preserve their collective
history, one photograph at a
time. He’s calling his
collection “100 Years, 100
Ranchers.” It’s a marathon
photo shoot that will
document the lives of men
and women whose families
have been working Arizona’s
open range for at least a
century or more.
BY KELLY KRAMER
Roundup Of the Century
Rancher Mike O’Haco sorts cattle in a cloud of dust at the O’Haco Cattle Co. in Winslow.
40 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 41
here are places, still, where cattle graze at
the edges of dirt roads — open-range places,
where sun and dust and grass mix with
sweat and leather and long days. They’re Arizona’s ranch
lands, Arizona primeval.
Tradition lingers there, mixing with the wide-eyed won-der
of children in Western shirts and cowboy hats, watch-ing
as their fathers and grandfathers and uncles round up
and rope. Scott Baxter has found them, and thanks to his
cameras, his truck and a little bit of true grit, he’s preserving
their collective history, one photograph at a time.
It’s all part of Baxter’s “100 Years, 100 Ranchers” project, a
marathon photo shoot that will document the lives of ranch-ers
— men and women whose families have been working
land, cattle and sheep in Arizona for 100 years or more. The
project’s completion is scheduled to coincide with the Ari-zona
Centennial in February 2012, and the photographs will
appear in galleries around the state.
For Baxter, though, the project isn’t about the exhibi-tions
or his name in lights. It’s about maintaining a piece of
Consider this from his published artist’s statement: “My
goal is to recognize these families who have struggled to
survive and persevere in these difficult times. As ranches are
lost to developers and poor economic conditions, I hope to
be able to preserve photographically an integral part of the
And consider this from the artist himself: “People say,
‘The project should be here, and it should be in a museum,
and it should be a book.’ For me, my obligation is to just fin-ish
shooting. That’s what I want to do. It’s not about me. It’s
about all these people I’ve met. When someone sticks out
their hand and looks you in the eye and they shake your hand
— that’s my impetus for finishing. It just needs to get done.”
It hasn’t been easy.
A history buff — he completed a master’s degree with a
thesis on the annexation of Texas — and a fly-fisherman,
Baxter stumbled upon the idea for “100 Years, 100 Ranchers”
In 1999, one of Baxter’s friends recommended that he fish
at a ranch down the road from a piece of state land they often
visited near Springerville. The ranch turned out to be the
X-Diamond, and that’s where Baxter met Wink Crigler, the
granddaughter of legendary Arizona pioneer Mollie Butler.
“Wink has a sister named Sug Peters,” Baxter says. “When
Sug was born, her parents didn’t name her, and the doctors
called her ‘Sugar,’ so she’s been called Sug ever since. I was
just kind of taken by them.”
Eventually, Crigler and Peters introduced Baxter to
another rancher, Sam Udall, and Baxter made a photograph.
“I met Sam at his ranch,” Baxter says. “He was shoeing
horses at the time, and he stopped for about five minutes. I
try not to overplan what I’m doing — maybe sometimes you
allow the photograph to come to you. If I push too hard or
EDITOR’S NOTE: “100 Years, 100 Ranchers” has been designated an official Centennial Legacy Project. Its completion is scheduled to coincide with the
Arizona Centennial in February 2012, when the photographs will appear in galleries around the state. Meantime, we’ll be featuring one of the 100 ranch-ers
on a monthly basis, beginning with our upcoming March issue. It’s part of our own Centennial coverage, which will continue through February 2012. T
the open range
at the O’Haco
grasp a coil of
42 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 43
try too hard, stuff gets messed up. Lots of times, I just watch
and take what’s given to me. I shot that photograph, then I
spent more and more time talking to these [ranchers], and I
started to realize how vital their heritage is to Arizona and
the fact that they’re going away.”
n January 4, 1904, a group of cattlemen
decided it was necessary to struc-ture
the future of the cattle industry
in what was then the Arizona Territory.
They knew, it seems, that the industry required protection
— legal protection — in order to maintain its history and
traditions, as well as the livelihoods of ranch families, so they
formed the Arizona Cattle Growers Association.
It was a prescient step, especially considering that at the
turn of the 20th century there were approximately 1.5 million
head of cattle in the state. Thanks to the overgrazing of cattle in
places like Texas during the Civil War, many ranchers headed
west. Still more Arizona ranches were remnants of Spanish
land grants, some of which dated to the late 17th century.
“The ACGA is dedicated to the ranching families of the
state of Arizona,” reads background information on the asso-ciation’s
website. “Our purpose is to strive for a quality of
life for those families without harming the land which we
all depend on. As time goes on and knowledge, opportunities and
alternate ways an individual has to feed, clothe and shelter themselves
increases, the general population gets further from the agrarian roots
which our forefathers understood.”
Recent reports indicate that the state’s cattle population has
shrunk to between 700,000 and 800,000 head, but the ACGA still
boasts around 900 members. It’s an alliance of ranchers who’ll go so
far as to adjudicate the state’s water rights laws, litigate against federal
and state agencies that attempt to seize control over sections of ranch
land, and educate the public about where their meat comes from — a
For Baxter, the ACGA is a place to meet people, to learn more about
the lifestyle he finds so often in front of his lens.
“I’m not a rancher,” he says. “I wouldn’t want to speak for them, but
I think there are all kinds of issues when it comes to the decline of
ranch life in Arizona.”
He cites drought and economics, of course, but he also emphasizes
the importance of family in keeping a ranch alive. If a ranch patriarch
or matriarch dies, and no family member steps forward to take over,
that’s when a ranch is sold or parceled out, he says. But there’s hope
“Sure, I’ve photographed people who are 86 or 91 years old,” he says,
“but there are also people in their teens and 20s. Those are the ones
who carry on the legacies.”
He and the ACGA also hope to address a common misconception
about ranchers: that they work to the detriment of the environment. O
“When someone sticks out their hand and looks you in the eye and they shake
your hand — that’s my impetus for finishing. It just needs to get done.”
Meyer Cline dips
Sarah, in a
trough at Flying
UW Ranch near
help from her sis-ter,
and “Mike” the
TOP LEFT: Bobbi
Davis and her
son, Chip, in the
tack room at the
P7 Bar Ranch in
speaks to a ranch
hand in the cattle
pen at the Flying
UW Ranch near
Marks with her
(left) and Caden,
at the Marks
Ranch near Blue;
Rancher Joe Baird
(left) and his son,
Robert, at the
Lovelake Ranch in
44 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 45
“There’s a huge misconception among the public that
these people are messing up our public lands,” Baxter says.
“ ‘Oh, they’re just running cattle all over the place,’ people
say. I’ve done riparian studies with them. I’ve ridden out
with them. I’ve seen how they take care of wildlife.” He
points to groups like Southeastern Arizona’s Malpai Bor-derlands
Group and the Flagstaff area’s Diablo Canyon Trust
as Exhibits A and B of responsible ranching. He also talks
about grass-banking, the process by which overgrazed land
is allowed to regenerate.
“Certain ranchers let other ranchers put cattle on their
land, or they rotate cattle,” he says. “That way, land in other
areas can come back. It helps ranchers who are having a hard
time. It helps them so they don’t have to sell.”
It helps them so that one more ranch — one more piece of
Arizona history — can live on.
he photograph of Sam Udall now hangs in
“100 Years, 100 Ranchers” headquarters, a
charming 1920s adobe home at the base of
Camelback Mountain in Phoenix that was
donated to Baxter’s project by John LaPrade, who lives in the
Bitterroot Valley of Montana.
The shot — of Udall riding through snow on the Slade
Ranch near Sunrise Ski Resort — is a testament to both the
project’s humble beginnings and just how far it’s come.
Although Baxter’s initial idea for the project dates back
more than 10 years, he didn’t approach the Arizona Historical
Advisory Commission to designate “100 Years, 100 Ranchers”
an official Centennial Legacy Project until 2008. Since then,
fundraising has been — at times — slow going, and Baxter
has more than six figures’ worth of his own hard-earned
commercial photographer’s income tied up in the venture.
“Someone once said, ‘You can’t do anything. You’re run-ning
out of money.’ I said, ‘If I wait for the money, I’m not
going to get anything done,’ ” Baxter remembers. “So I started
calling people. The best thing to do is just find a way to do it.
That means going without an assistant, and that’s what I do.
That means sleeping in the back of the truck, and that’s what
I do. That means making peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches
and throwing them in a cooler, and that’s what I do. It’s not a
great, big, luxurious photo shoot.”
That’s not to say that Baxter hasn’t been disheartened or
that he hasn’t been tempted to throw in the towel. After all,
it’s no small task to travel across the state — oftentimes on
rugged, rustic dirt roads far from cell phone towers and other
modern conveniences — to photograph 100 different ranches
and generations of ranch families.
Along the way, Baxter went through a divorce, sent
his son off to college at Tufts and watched as his daughter
started high school and became a serious lacrosse player.
He moved his Alzheimer’s-stricken father to the Valley. He
didn’t know if he’d ever finish the Centennial project. That’s
when Mike Campbell, his friend, designer and project sup-porter,
ticked him off.
“Mike said, ‘Why don’t you sell it? Just sell the project,’ ”
Baxter remembers. “So I went home and pulled together an
estimate, and I got mad.”
That’s exactly what Campbell wanted. He didn’t really
want Baxter to sell the project, he just wanted him to finish
making the photographs.
Baxter, who could easily play the part of cowboy — he’s
tall and lean and boasts a sometimes-stubbled beard and a
pair of well-worn boots — has since launched a Facebook
campaign and redesigned the project’s website. He obtained
nonprofit status and works with a professional fundraiser.
He attends a lot of cattle-growers meetings and networks at
every opportunity. Like so many of the plans he makes with
ranchers, a lot gets accomplished through a handshake and a smile.
At press time, Baxter had photographed approximately half of the
ranches on his checklist and had plans to complete the photography
by May 1, 2011. After that, those countless images have to be processed
and prepped for printing and exhibition. He’ll also make prints for
many of the families.
“If I can, I just like to spend time with them,” Baxter says of the
photo shoots. “Then I do a combination of shots — some are action
shots, some are portraits. Actually, they’re all portraits. It doesn’t
matter if the subject is really small, or if they’re looking at the camera
or doing something else, they’re all portraits.”
He chose large-format, black-and-white film because it requires a
slower, more personal process. It allowed him, he says, to study the
spirit of the ranchers, whom he calls a “unique group of Arizonans.”
Looking ahead to when the project is finally finished and the exhi-bitions
have officially closed, Baxter might finally take a breather. He
might. And if he does, he’ll likely stay close to those open-range places
where earth and sky meet in one big, brilliant embrace.
“It’s an amazing experience to sit on top of a bluff with ranchers
and ask them, ‘Where do you go on vacation?’ ’’ Baxter says. “Most of
them say, ‘Why would I want to go anywhere but here?’ ”
■ To make a donation or to learn more about “100 Years, 100 Ranchers,” visit
ABOVE: A lone bo-vine
horizon as Mike
cattle at the
Sam Udall checks
fences from atop
his horse, Blue,
one snowy day at
the Slade Ranch
near Sunrise Ski
Resort. The pho-tograph
impetus for the
www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 47
In 2008, a Phoenix landmark
lost its name and gained a new
identity. Writer Craig Childs wasn’t
crazy about the change — he thought
it reeked of political correctness —
but a night on the mountain and
a better understanding of the
nomenclature had him whispering
Piestewa, Piestewa, Piestewa.
BY CRAIG CHILDS
PHOTOGRAPHS BY SUZANNE MATHIA
As a full moon rises in the east, rolling clouds drift over the rocky landscape of Piestewa Peak.
46 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1
“May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view.
May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.” — EDWARD ABBEY
48 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 49
smack in the middle of Phoenix. Sunset drew back its bright
lash as crickets started up in the rocky flanks of the moun-tain;
first one cricket as the light faded, then hundreds. By
dusk, the mountain above me sang.
Still, I waited to start climbing the peak, sitting on a
warm concrete picnic bench, watching hikers stream down
the trail from above. They looked like worshippers returning
from a shrine, some carrying flashlights to show the way as
darkness came on. Flashlights became like lanterns swaying
and bobbing down from the high summit.
Every day hordes go up and down, a couple miles round-trip,
an average of a half-million hikers each year, a couple
thousand on weekends. All sorts of people come here, tube-sucking
water-drinkers clicking at the ground with their
trekking poles, and gruff, unshaven desert rats carrying
canteens on their hips. You watch every kind of outfit pass —
cutoff jeans, Lycra and khaki cargo pants. Children and
elderly, fat and thin. The unhealthy struggle on ham hock
legs, while sprinters shame the rest of us.
By a hair, Piestewa is not the tallest mountain within the
city (it’s second to Camelback Mountain), but it has the most
dominating presence with its singular upraised summit. At
I waited for nightfall at the foot of Piestewa Peak,
2,607 feet above sea level, the mountain is the color of fire ash,
slabs of schist rising more than a thousand feet off the valley
plain. At twilight, the mass of lifted rock turns a luminescent
lemon color, absorbing the footlights of Phoenix.
The mountain used to be called Squaw Peak. By federal
decree, the name was recently changed to Piestewa Peak, a
big intellectual move for one of the largest central landmarks
in the city. The word “squaw” fell from favor, a derogatory
term for Native American women. But even if the old name
has been respectfully removed, it takes time to rewire one’s
brain. I grew up knowing it as Squaw Peak, and for me the
word has only meant a singular horn of rock rising from inside
Phoenix. It is hard to change.
In 2008, the peak was officially renamed for Lori Piestewa,
a Hopi woman who was killed during combat at the onset
of the Iraq War in 2003. She was the first Native American
woman to die in combat on foreign soil.
Piestewa was a Tuba City girl, a mother of two, and she
worked as a Humvee driver for the Army’s 507th Maintenance
Company. In the first wave of the invasion, her convoy became
lost in the desert and was ambushed in Nasiriyah. She was hit
by what Army investigators called “a torrent of fire,” and died
jamming her foot down on the accelerator to get her and her
company out of there. Her body was later found buried in a
shallow grave behind an Iraqi hospital.
Now, I had to learn a different word for this landmark of
my own childhood, the name of Lori Piestewa.
Taken from the Hopi language, Piestewa has been gen-erally
interpreted to mean people-who-live-by-the-water. An
acquaintance on the Hopi Reservation in Northern Arizona
asked around on my behalf, and returned explaining that
the name is used in reference to the Flute Society. On their
dance day, he told me, members of this society journey to a
sacred spring and perform prayers, meditations and songs.
They chant prayer-songs and play their flutes into the spring.
Then they return to the village plaza, where it is said they
The Hopi man explained, “All this is done for moisture of
rain, harmony and peace on Earth.”
He broke the word down for me to pahu (water), yesse
(gather or sitting) and tiwa (an adjective of something hap-pening).
It means sitting-at-the-happening-place-of-water, or some-thing
like that. The Hopi spelling is Pa-yes-tiwa, pronounced
Pie-ess-too-wah, a word that calls the rain.
I came to this mountain tonight to climb it and make peace
with its new name. It seems fitting that such a word comes
to Phoenix, like a beacon, a prayer for rain in the middle of a
very thirsty place.
I did not get off the bench at the foot of the
mountain until the sun was well below the electric glow
of streetlights. Only then did I hike up the trail, rising and
switchbacking along the face of Piestewa. I do not know how
many times I’ve climbed this mountain, but I’ve grown to
prefer the solitude of night, with the city so bright all around
me. It is a sublime sensation, millions of people packed wall-to-
wall below while I walk up completely alone. It is a rocky
spiral staircase to another world.
Todd Bostwick, an archaeologist for the city of Phoe-nix,
once commented to me that a thousand years ago the
Hohokam people who occupied this valley must have walked
up these very same trails. He figured that, like us, they used
mountains like this as a retreat from the noisy, smelly villages
in the valley below. It makes perfect sense. Not much different
today, the city can be busy and oppressive, and the mountains
act as a sanctuary.
Piestewa is not alone. The Phoenix Mountains form
a broad chain of summits about 8 miles long. In my mind,
they are what make this city beautiful, if not bearable. In the
1960s and ’70s, Phoenix resident Dottie Gilbert, along with a
faithful group of diehards, worked to convince the city that
these mountains needed preserving. They would establish
a rare form of wilderness within metropolitan boundaries.
Their hard-fought battle succeeded, and now the Phoenix
Mountains Preserve has been set aside, a point of pride in
the midst of sprawl.
No manicured Central Park, mountains within the pre-serve
are rugged and left mostly to themselves, traversed
only by dirt trails. Geologically, they are made of layers of
LEFT: From a vantage point high along Piestewa Peak’s Summit
Trail, the cityscape of Phoenix shimmers in the distance.
RIGHT: A barrel cactus glows in the evening light along the
Perl Charles Memorial Trail.
50 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 51
very different rock formations tilted back steeply so that
just about every mountain within the range consists of a
different kind of rock. This offers a variety of textures and
colors to the city’s skyline. The mountains rise sharply, their
outcrops harsh and wild. Charles Christiansen, director of
the Phoenix Parks and Recreation Department in the early
’70s, said at the time, “There will always be that beauty there,
untarnished by man.”
Few cities in this country have landmarks like these,
rough interior landscapes holding up the central horizon.
They span from Shadow Mountain, Moon Hill, and the flat
top of Lookout Mountain in the north to the terra cotta
flanks of Camelback and South mountains in the south. In
the middle is a dense, rocky cluster: the arroyos of Dreamy
Draw below, and the masterful hood of Piestewa above.
Though the city presses in from all sides, a relieving empti-ness
remains in the center.
With every hundred feet of vertical gain, the city
below appeared to grow larger. Taillights and streetlights
accumulated by the millions. Helicopters raked across grids
as freeways flowed like luminous arteries. Airplanes stacked
behind each other approaching from due east, lined up like
flares in the sky — welcome to Phoenix — while an equal chain
of lights departed to the west — let’s get out of here.
Directly below me, the mountain preserve was ink-black
against the tungsten glow surrounding it. If this place had
not been preserved, the final darkness of this city would
have been pushed up the flanks of these mountains, nearly
extinguished as mansions and swimming pools fit into every
last crook and crevice. Holding back internal development
and allowing these mountains to stand free might be the best
thing Phoenix ever did.
In 1966, the year I was born down in that mass of light,
Dottie Gilbert wrote a letter to then-mayor Milton Graham.
She urged him to properly plan what to do with various
pieces of land, writing, “How sad it will be if it becomes
an unimaginative dense urban area with city streets and
curbs and sidewalks, when it could be built around its trails
with little picnic spots scattered through the mountains to
lure the hiker, the Boy Scout — and, yes, the horseman.” She
went on: “Our mountains are to Phoenix what the beaches
are to Florida. They are our ‘natural resources,’ and they are
everybody’s scenery.” In conclusion, Gilbert apologized to
the mayor for appearing to be against progress in the usual
sense of the word. “I am really for ‘progress’ in the long-range
sense of preserving for the Phoenix of the future as much as
possible of this delightful and unique spot.”
The particular spot she was writing about was the foot of
Piestewa. Now, looking down into its darkness, I was thank-ful
she succeeded. But her move for preservation was not the
end of the story. Time changed, new questions arose. The
name of this mountain was no longer enough, and “Piestewa”
eventually replaced “Squaw.” I wonder if Gilbert would have
resisted the change. I imagine she probably would have. I
resisted it, too. When I first heard it, the name reeked of
political correctness, which is why I began asking around
Hopi, and why I came here tonight. I needed to understand
this new name for an old and beloved peak.
I moved up 120 stories of rock and hardpack, theaters of
crickets and lone posts of saguaros striking against the sky.
At the summit, I found a familiar jag of bedrock, not much of
a comfortable place to sit. I fit my butt down into a crevice,
knees higher than my hips, and pretended to recline over this
elegant and feverish city. The metropolis formed a circular
sweep of light, swirling rings of industry and life.
Thunderstorms rimmed the horizon. Flashes of lightning
boiled over the suburbs. Storms are always a good sign in
this city. You want precipitation. Only fools complain when
weather moves in. This is a desert, and water is most pre-cious
in any form. Come on, I thought, rain.
I whispered, Piestewa.
The word did not sound at all like “Squaw,” not the carbon
mass of a mountain that I knew, but it did have a ring to it,
and so I said it, a little louder.
How it is spoken at Hopi, you pronounce the “t” with your
tongue almost touching the back of your teeth — nearly a
“th” sound — and you draw out the “wa,” as in “want.”
Like many Hopi words, saying it out loud, it almost
sounded like water. It actually had relevance here. As I said
it, I thought of the history gathered in the word, much more
powerful than the mere squaw it was before. Now this
mountain’s name bore new definitions: Dark-eye-of-raptur-ous-
city; Prayer-for-rain; Mother-of-two-found-buried-in-the-desert;
I said the name as I sat, telling it to the air. I got up and
hopped to another nick of rock, whispering it as I went. I
climbed down off the summit, monkeying across ridges into
steep, loose ravines below. I let the word fall from my mouth,
memorizing the sound, Piestewa, a slow chant descending
into this city so lovely tonight.
LEFT AND RIGHT:
enjoy a number
of hiking, biking
52 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 53
when Mormon settlers
first saw the plant they
dubbed the “Joshua tree,” it
reminded them of the bushy-bearded
biblical leader. When
Territorial Governor John C.
Frémont caught sight of it dur-ing
an 1844 trek through the
Mohave Desert, he called it “the
most repulsive tree in the veg-etable
Here’s the thing: Joshua trees
are not vegetables and they’re
not among the 12 spies of Israel,
but they are members of the lily
family. What’s more, they’re
plentiful along U.S. Route 93
from Wikieup to Wickenburg.
The drive, which is familiar
to anyone who’s road-tripped
from Phoenix to Sin City (or
vice versa), officially begins
in Wikieup, a dot on the map
that’s better known for its
pie (you’ll pass Luchia’s) than
its tourism cachet. Other
landmarks “in town” include
the Snoopy-piloted Wikieup
arrow, along with the Wikieup
Trading Post and Eat at Joe’s
Barbecue, as well as the creo-sote-
peppered hills that sur-round
Heading south on U.S. 93,
around Mile Marker 127, you’ll
come to the Big Sandy River,
and unless it’s been raining, the
river is probably just that —
big and sandy. Beyond the Big
Sandy, sheer, eroded cliffs loom,
speckled in spots with saguaros
and scrub. Pale, striated canyon
walls straddle the highway —
green, yellow, white and taupe
— and the mountains stretch for
miles in front of you.
At Mile Marker 147, you’ll
start seeing rocks piled on
top of each other. They look
like hoodoos, with saguaros
in between. The rocks are an
interesting sight, but not as
interesting as Nothing. Blink
and you’ll miss it, but Nothing
was a real Arizona town, and
you’ll see it off to the left. It’s
marked with a sign and a pile
of ... well, junk. You’ll have to
see it for yourself, but Nothing
really is something.
Joshua trees become the
focal point of this drive around
Mile Marker 162. One of the
first you’ll see is a large, gnarly
fellow off to the right, and then
several more in rapid succes-sion.
They’re reminiscent of the
baobab trees made famous in
Saint Exupery’s Little Prince, and
if your imagination is active,
you might see a little blond boy
emerge from the trees with
a dog and a well-protected
flower in hand.
By Mile Marker 169, the
forest of Joshua trees is dense,
and you’ll see a sign that reads:
“Joshua Tree Parkway of Ari-zona.”
It’s a label that formal-izes
the obvious — that this is
an incredibly scenic drive that
passes through one of the most
spectacular landscapes in the
Southwest. The route continues
on to Wickenburg, a classic Old
West town that celebrates the
state’s cowboy heritage with
the Desert Caballeros Museum
and a string of Western-themed
shops and restaurants.
It’s a great place to visit, but
the highlight of this drive is the
trees. Or, rather, the lilies.
BELOW AND RIGHT:
arms of Joshua
the desert land-scape
drive to California
for Joshua trees
when you can pile
in the car and head
BY KELLY KRAMER
Note: Mileages are approximate.
LENGTH: 74 miles one way
DIRECTIONS: From Wikieup, travel south on U.S.
Route 93 to Wickenburg.
VEHICLE REQUIREMENTS: None
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: National Scenic Byways Program,
800-429-9297 or www.byways.org/explore/
Travelers in Arizona can visit www.az511.gov
or dial 511 to get information
on road closures,
delays, weather and more.
READING: For more
scenic drives, pick
up a copy of our
book, The Back
Roads. Now in its
fifth edition, the
features 40 of the
state’s most scenic
drives. To order a
copy, visit www.
O N L I N E For more scenic drives in Arizona, visit www.arizonahighways.com/scenicdrives.
S T A R T H E R E
Santa Maria River
Big Sandy River
Wikieup To Kingman
60 To Phoenix
54 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1 www. a r i z o n a h i g h w a y s . c o m 55
month OF THE
some of the most spectacular trails in Arizona are
surprisingly accessible, and that can lead to trouble.
The Bright Angel Trail on the South Rim of the Grand
Canyon is probably the best example. Think about it,
there’s nothing — no long drive on a primitive road, no
technical requirements, no checkpoint for unqualified
hikers — to keep the hordes from venturing into a place
that requires much more than an afterthought. And
maybe that’s why Mother Nature put a moat around the
Casner Canyon Trail.
There’s no way around it. If you want to hike this sce-nic
trail, you’ll first have to wade through the waist-high
waters of Oak Creek. Although the water levels will fluc-tuate
throughout the year, you’re definitely going to get
wet, especially in the spring, but don’t let that deter you.
Although there’s only one way to reach Casner Canyon
itself, there are two ways to access the trail of the same
name. The first is to park on the narrow shoulder of
State Route 89A and then follow a steep path down the
embankment to the trailhead. This is not your best option.
Instead, park at Grasshopper Point and hop on the Allen’s
Bend Trail. It’s a short and beautiful connector trail that
winds for a half-mile along Oak Creek to its intersection
with the Casner Canyon Trail.
From there, turn right onto the Casner Canyon Trail,
cross a normally dry creekbed and make your way to the
banks of Oak Creek. There’s no magic formula for get-ting
across. Shoes on, shoes off, it doesn’t really matter.
Either way, you’ll want to be careful. The rocks below the
surface will be extremely slippery. If you have a walking
stick, this is the time to use it. It’s not unusual for even
graceful hikers to fall victim to the unscrupulous nature
of the slippery rocks. Be prepared and aim for the cairns
on the opposite bank.
Once you’re across, hug the rock ledge and follow the
trail into Casner Canyon, which is small compared to
Munds Canyon to the north, but enormous when it comes
to payoff — the red-rock views from this trail are breath-taking,
and can’t be seen from a backseat window. About
20 minutes into the hike, you’ll notice a large Utah juni-per,
the most common cedar in Arizona. You’ll also notice
the quiet. At this point, you’ll be separated from the car
noise of Sedona, and, more than likely, you’ll be alone.
This trail doesn’t get the kind of traffic that other hikes in
Sedona get, which makes the panoramic views even that
Not far from the big juniper, the trail begins its gradual
climb up from the canyon floor. It follows the north side
of the canyon and quickly loses the shade of the ripar-ian
habitat below. Even in the springtime, the heat will
take its toll, so carry plenty of water and go heavy on the
sunscreen. Moving along, the gorgeous scene in front of
you will command your attention, as it should, but make
sure you turn around every once in a while and look the
other way. All of the views are virtually unadulterated by
anything man-made. It’s a rare treat. It’s also an opportu-nity
to see what the Casner family saw when they moved
cattle from Oak Creek to the high mesa at the end of this
trail. The views haven’t changed at all since then. And
neither has the steep and challenging grade.
Overall, this is a tough trail, despite its relatively short
distance. But if you take it slowly, you’ll eventually come to
an old wooden gate that marks the turnaround point. You
can also continue a few hundred yards up to the top of the
mesa, but the best views are in the other direction. Enjoy
them on the way down. It’s Mother Nature’s reward for
making it across her moat.
LENGTH: 5 miles round-trip
ELEVATION: 4,396 to 5,912 feet
DIRECTIONS: From the roundabout junction of state routes 179
and 89A in Sedona, drive north on SR 89A for 2.4 miles to the
Grasshopper Point parking lot on the right side of the highway.
SPECIAL CONSIDERATION: A $5 Red Rock pass is required along the
highway; a $10 per vehicle (up to 5 people) fee is required in the
Grasshopper Point parking area.
VEHICLE REQUIREMENTS: None
DOGS ALLOWED: Yes (on a leash)
USGS MAP: Munds Park
INFORMATION: Red Rock Ranger Station, 928-282-4119 or www.
• Plan ahead and be prepared.
• Travel and camp on durable surfaces.
• Dispose of waste properly and pack out your trash.
• Leave what you find.
• Respect wildlife and minimize impact.
• Be considerate of others.
BELOW AND OPPO-SITE
are treated to
the gentle water-falls
pools of Oak
Creek, as well as
of Sedona’s red-rock
CASNER CANYON TRAIL
There are plenty of great trails in
the Sedona area. This is the best
one you’ve never heard of.
BY ROBERT STIEVE
PHOTOGRAPHS BY DEREK VON BRIESEN
trail guide F
O N L I N E For more hikes in Arizona, visit www.arizonahighways.com/hiking.
O A K C R E E K C A N Y O N
C O C O N I N O
N A T I O N A L F O R E S T
R E D R O C K /
S E C R E T M O U N T A I N
W I L D E R N E S S
M U N D S M O U N T A I N
W I L D E R N E S S
T R A I L H E A D
Schnebly Hill Road Sedona
56 f e b r u a r y 2 0 1 1
Win a collection of our most popular books! To enter, correctly identify the location featured above and e-mail your answer to
firstname.lastname@example.org — type “Where Is This?” in the subject line. Entries can also be sent to 2039 W. Lewis Avenue,
Phoenix, AZ 85009 (write “Where Is This?” on the envelope). 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 February 15, 2011. Only the winner will be
notified. The correct answer will be posted in our April issue and online at www.arizonahighways.com beginning March 15.
BY SALLY BENFORD
A local humorist renamed this town, which was originally called Happy Valley, for
a female friend he watched dance across the hot desert sand. That same humorist
brought celebrity status to the tiny town when he wrote about a frog that couldn’t
swim, a legend that was read in 25 newspapers and magazines across the country,
including The Saturday Evening Post. The famous frog’s legacy lives on at the local
high school, which calls itself the “Home of the Fighting Frogs.”
Knee Deep in ADventure
Your experience begins in Yuma
April 13-16, 2011
Register today at
Join us at this year’s
Yuma Birding and Nature Festival
for a photography workshop by
Arizona Highways Photo Workshops
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