Arizona Highways, July 1949

              FEW COLLEGES are more attractively
situated than ASTC at Flagstaff. Ii-.
early summer the campus is colorful
in bright dress with snow-covered San
Francisco Peaks in background. Each
season is a distinct change. Because
of the high elevation, it is very nice
during the summers. Photograph
taken by Griff Morris.
Dr. Lacey A. Eastburn, president of the college at Flagstaff, reports continued growth of the
mstitution. An extensive building program is now underway to better serve larger enrollment.
A R I Z 0 N A S TAT E COL LEGE A T F LAG S T A F FOB S E R V E S F 1FT I E T HAN N I V E R S A R Y
BY MELVIN HUTCHINSON
Situated in the clean, green pine forests of Northern
Arizona's mountain lands, 7,000 feet above sea level, where
sunny blue skies, invigorating seasonal climates, and beau­tiful
scenery provide one of the nation's most picturesque
year-around playgrounds, Arizona State College at Flag­staff
is observing this year its Golden Jubilee anniversary.
It was on Monday, September 11, 1899, that the newly
created Northern Arizona Normal School enrolled its first
group of students. There were twenty-three in that first
enrollment, and ten more young people were expected to
enroll the following week, according to an account in the
Coconino Sun. Of those late arrivals, the Sun stated proud­ly,
five were coming all the way from Apache County.
One building, now known as Old Main and still the
chief classroom building on the campus, made up the en-tire
school plant. There was a faculty of two, President
A. N. Taylor, brought to Flagstaff from Jamestown, N. Y.,
to take charge of the new school, and Miss Frances Bury,
who transferred to Flagstaff from the normal school at
Tempe:
Last September, marking the start of the institution's
50th year of service to the young people of Arizona, the
enrollment neared 800. The students came from every
community and rural section in Arizona and from over
half of the forty-eight states. Teaching faculty numbered
more than 50. Major structures on the beautifully land­scaped
campus have increased a dozen fold in those 50
years.
This year, to meet the demands that have been made
on the institution, the Board of Regents recommended an
( Please turn to page thirty-six)
FRONT CovER-"BEE PLANT" By EsTHER HENDERSON. This is the Rocky Mountain bee plant (Cleome serrulata), so-called because of the
copious quantity of nectar produced by the beautiful purple flowers. It ranges widely in the Rocky Mountains and Great Plains, often growing at
roadsides and waste places like any weed, but few people would think of such a handsome plant as a weed regardless of its habits. In Arizona,
the Rocky Mountain bee plant prefers high country between 4,500 and 7,000 feet in elevations. This plant is a summer attraction around Prescott.
Photograph was taken near Flagstaff. The photographer used a 5x7 Eastman View camera and Goerz Dogmar 8Y2 inch lens, exposure f22 at
~ second on Kodachrome. By angling her camera to use the sky as a background for the flower study, she composed a most attractive Dicture.
"NAVAJO HORSE" By BARRY GOLDWATER
THIS PHOTOGRAPH WAS TAKEN NEAR NA­VAJO
MOUNTAIN, DEEP IN THE INDIAN RESERVA­TION.
THESE LITTLE NAVAJO PONIES ARE TOUGH
AND DURABLE AND HAVE A CHAR:">! DISTINCTLY
THEIR OWN. NAVAJOS ARE SUPERB HORSEMEN.
:ARIZONa HIGH vs
VOL. XXV. NO. 7 JULY, 1949
RAYMOND CARLSON, Editor
George M. Avey, Art Editor
LEGEND
"BEE PLANT" . FRONT COVER
ESTHER HENDERSON Snows BEAUTY
IN A SUMMER BUSH IN BLOOM.
ARIZONA's COLLEGE IN THE PINES .
OUR COLLEGE AT FLAGSTAFF IS NOW
CELEBRATING 50 YEARS OF SERVICE.
PLAYWRIGHT IN ARIZONA. 4
AUGUSTUS THOMAS CAME THIS WAY
50 YEARS AGO, AND THEN WROTE PLAY.
PEACH FESTIVAL IN SUPAILAND . 8
THE HAVASUPAI INDIANS IN THEIR
CANYON CELEBRATE IN LATE AUGUST.
QUONG KEE 14
THE PROPRIETOR OF THE CAN CAN
WAS FAMOUS TOMBSTONE PIONEER.
SYCAMORE CANYON . 18
VVE TAKE A TRIP TO A HIDDEN BEAU-TY
SPOT TOO FEW PEOPLE VISIT.
RIM COUNTRY . 26
A TRIP Al.ONG MOGOLLON RIM IS ONE
THAT TAKES YOU TO HIDDEN PLACES.
KAIBAB . 31
IN SUMMERTIME 1\l0UNTAIN NORTH
OF GRAND CANYON ATTRACTS VISITORS.
YOURS SINCERELY 40
A PAGE FOR A FEW LETTERS AND A
CORNER FOR A LINE OR SO OF VERSE.
"ENCHANTED MEADOW" . BACK COVER
ALLEN C. REED CATCHES MELLOW
MOOD OF SUMMER UP IN SYCAMORE.
DAN E. GARVEY
Governor of Arizona
ARIZONA HIGHWAY COMMISSION
Dewey Farr, Chairman ....... St. Johns
Brice Covington, Vice-Chairman . . . Kingman
H. Earl Rogge, Member ......... Clifton
Louis Escalada, Member ......... Nogales
Clarence A . Calhoun, Member ...... Mesa
J. Melvin Goodson , Exec. Secretary .. Phoenix
W. C. Lefebvre, State H 'way Engineer Phoenix
R. G. Langmade, Special Counsel ... Phoenix
An.IZONA H IGHWAYS is published monthly by the
Arrzona Highway Department. Address: ARI­ZONA
HIGHWAYS, Phoenix, Arizona. $3.00 per
year in U. S . and possessions; $3.50 e lsewhere.
3
N
5 cents each . Entered as second-class matter
ov. 5, 1941, at Post Office in Phoenix, under
Ac~ of March 3, 1879. Copyrighted, 1949, by
Anzona Highway D epartment, Phoenix, Ariz.
Allow five weeks for changes of addresses. Be
SUre to send in old as well as new address.
PRESCOTT ~ COURIER
This is the enchanted land: mesa, canyon, plateau and moun­tain
touched by the friendly sun.
You find enchantment in Havasupai Canyon where the Supai
( sue-pie) Indians live, their little world a jewel encased in tall red
walls and the blue, blue sky. We take you there this issue and tell
you about their Peach Festival in August, when they celebrate the
harvest and the music of their night-long chants reverberates between
steep canyon walls. Enchanted people, they are, living in an en­chanted
land.
VVe take you to SYcamore Canyon, by your leave, and show you
a creek full of fish and where there are cool shadows under sycamore
trees. Not too many people have been to Sycamore, because the trail
there is rough and rocky, but that only adds to its charm. Allen Reed
is our amiable guide on both these excursions and in words and pic­tures
he capably points a way we would like to follow.
We follow enchanted roads. One such road takes us to the Tonto
Rim Country, high up country where the air is cool and heavy with
the perfume of pine. If you are lucky you might catch a glimpse of
elk and you'll see deer and turkey come and go about their daily
business. The rim overlooks a vast area of canyons and hills and
mountains and you can see so far your sight is lost in blue haze.
Then we go on to the Kaibab ( kie-bab) , forest and mountain
of which the North Rim of Grand Canyon is a part. The trip through
this forest and oyer this mountain from Jacob Lake to North Rim
is an enchanted trip, as pleasant as any trip you will ever take. Here
is Travel Arizona at its best.
While we are up north we pay a visit to Arizona State College
at Flagstaff, where the folks are celebrating the school's fiftieth birth­day.
"Flag" is a splendid college, not too large, not too expensive to
attend, with thousands of miles of enchanted Arizona stretching in
all directions from the campus. This year plans have been made to
increase and modernize the plant, to better serve the students and
to take care of an ever-increasing enrollment. Arizonans have al­ways
been proud of their schools and have demanded the best. The
State College at Flagstaff has deserved the attention paid it by our
citizens. The Registrar there will gladly furnish information to
prospective out-of-state students. You would have a chance to study
and at the same time be close to heaps and heaps of scenery.
We tell you about Quong Kee, the beloved restaurant man of
Tombstone, once owner of the famous Can Can, who came to Helldo­rado
town during the early boom years and lived there until his death
a decade ago. Quong sleeps in Boothill, his warm smile stilled for­ever,
many long and lonely miles from distant Cathay from whence
he came. He sleeps among friends-good men and bad, those who
died in violence and those who died in peace-and what man could
ask for more ? Rest in peace, good Quong Keel Our story of this en­chanted
land would never have been complete without telling of you,
because yours is a bright thread in the enchanted tapestry that is the
chronicle of our land ... R.c.
The playwright, Augustus Thomas.
Scene from "Arizona," first produced in Chicago fifty years ago.
;-:=>
r2
III
C) p;
Fifty years ago in Chicago on June 12, 1899, the cur­tain
of Hamlin's Grand Opera House went up on the bril­liant
production of Augustus Thomas' most famous play
ARIZONA. Today the play remains one of the most pop­ular
dramas ever written about the Southwest. A Golden
Anniversary production of the play was presented on May
13 at Phoenix College under the direction of Cecil A. Ker­sten,
head of the drama department, and staged by John
Paul.
Yet if Augustus Thomas had not felt he had written
himself out, ARIZONA might never have been written.
After the great success of ALABAMA and IN MIZZOURI.
NEW BLOOD, a play with social significance, was a failure
in New York. Dispirited, Thomas confided to Luther
Lincoln, a literary agent, he was completely dry of ideas
for plays. Lincoln laughed at Thomas and told him every
author felt the same way at some time during his career.
What Thomas needed was a change of scenery, a vaca­tion,
and a source of new ideas.
Living near the author in New Rochelle, New York,
was Frederic Remington, the peerless painter of West­ern
scenes. Among Thomas' close friends were Captain
Jack Summerhayes and his wife, Martha Summerhayes,
who later wrote VANISHED ARIZONA. Remington had
lived in Tucson, and the Summerhayes had been sta­tioned
at army forts in Arizona for years. Their tales of
the wonderful desert· and sunshine convinced Thomas he
would find inspiration in Arizona.
Augustus Thomas was a playwright who took inspira­tion
from the daily newspaper and the world about him
and was well prepared to grasp the feeling of ranch and
army life in Arizona. Born in St. Louis in 1857, he was
educated in the public schools, and had a background sim­ilar
to that of Mark Twain. He worked on the St. Louis
Post Despatch, the Kansas City Times, and the New York
World. His play, ALONE, was written when he was fif­teen
years old and was produced -by amateurs. It was
ARIZONA HIGHWA~S
IN ARIZONA BY JEAN PROVENCE
not until 1889 that he had a play produced in ew York.
Frederic Remington supervised the organizing of
Thomas' kit for the journey to Arizona as he would have
arranged his own. In addition Remington introduced
Thomas to Major General Nelson A. Miles who had ended
the Apache wars in Arizona by shipping Geronimo and
his Apaches to Florida. General Miles was then Com­manding
General and gave the playwright a letter to the
officers commanding western posts.
Captain Jack Summerhayes knew the officers of the
West and when he read General Miles' letter he shook
his head and counselled Thomas, "That department letter
will command anything those men can give you, but
they'll feel happier if their contributions seem voluntary
and come only under the head of General Miles' permis­sion.
"
In the middle of March, 1897, Augustus Thomas
reached Willcox, Arizona Territory, on the Southern Pa­cific.
He was headed for Fort Grant, twenty miles north
of the cattle shipping center on the San Pedro River, near
the present town of Winkelman.
Getting off the train Thomas inquired how he could
reach Fort Grant, and he was informed an ambulance with
four mules was there to carryover to Fort Grant a cap­tain
who was expected on the train arriving at five in the
morning. Remembering what Captain Summerhayes
had said Thomas kept his letter from General Miles in his
pocket, and consulted the driver of the ambulance who
promised to tell the captain Thomas wished 'to accompany
him to Fort Grant.
Early the next morning Thomas took a place near the
ambulance ready to be invited to accompany the captain.
His wait was in vain. The driver struck the mules and
the ambulance rattled away without the playwright.
The disappointment was compensated by the yarns
and instruction of the driver of a two-horse depot wagon
that took Thomas to Fort Grant a few hours later. At the
TaLell:ed cast of Phoenix College staged "Arizona" this sprmg. Production proved dramatic lUorth of the drama.
posL the driver direcLed him to the officers club where
Thomas found several officers playing cards.
"I would like to see Colonel Sumner, the commanding
officer," Thomas stated.
The officers hardly looked up, but one pointed to the
senior officer who continued to focus his attention on his
cards.
This time Augustus Thomas did not hesitate to show
his letter from General Miles. Drawing erect and acting
in the best tradition of the theatre, Thomas handed the
JeLter to Colonel Edwin V. Sumner. "A letter from Wash­ington."
Stepping back Thomas waited. The Colonel opened
the letter, glanced at it quickly, and struck the table a
blow, "Gentlemen."
The officers instantly dropped their cards and stood
at attention. Thomas was welcomed by the officers and
he began a pleasant and inspiring stay at Fort Grant.
After a hot bath Thomas changed into clean clothes
and went to Colonel Sumner's home where he met the
Colonel's wife and had an agreeable dinner. After the
meal Thomas was shown the fort and was much impressed
by a large tent set up on the parade ground. Inside was
a. telegraph instrument ticking off round by round the
JIm Corbett-Bob Fitzsimmons fight in Carson City, Nev.
With an imagination bent on the theatre, Augustus
Thomas looked around the compact little community of
Fort Grant, and it was impossible for him not to begin to
play chess with the characters and reputations of the peo­ple
he saw. There were few women at the fort, and nearly
all of them were married with not a breath of scandal or
gossip to be heard. Colonel Sumner and his wife, who
Was .almost his own age, were happily married. Any hint
of discord was far from the truth, but Thomas decided to
use the Colonel as the central character in a play. How
could he develop dramatic conflict?
With no compunction Thomas mentally mated the
Colo~el W~Lh .a mu~h younger wife who was regretful of
th.e dlspanty III th~Ir years. The discontent of the young
WIfe was to be eVIdent to the younger officers and one
would take advantage of her unhappiness. The play
ARIZON A was born.
At the dinner table Thomas listened to Colonel Sum­ner
tell of the adventures of the cattlemen the soldiers
and the Indians in the district. Mrs. SUJ~1ller laughed
a bout the Mex~can messenger who carried news through
the valley. HIS knowledge of English was limited and
Tony could not distinguish profanity, which he used with­out
hesitation. Tony was incorporated into the play.
The Colonel spoke frequently of Henry C. Hooker and
the Sierra Bonita Ranch in Sulphur Springs Valley, one
of the most extensive and modern ranches in Arizona at
the time. Hooker had driven a herd of Longhorn cattle
into the Territory soon after the Civil War and gradually
developed the ranch.
After a few days at Fort Grant, Thomas made the jour­ney
up Aravaipa Canyon to the Hooker Ranch. At the
Sierra Bonita he found Hooker's charming daughter-in­law,
Mrs. Forrestine Hooker, the wife of E. R. Hooker and
the author of THE LONG DIM TRAIL. She was an excep­tionally
accomplished young woman, and as she played
the piano in the evening Thomas made a place for her in
the play. Mrs. Hooker became Bonita, the heroine of
ARIZON A, and was named in honor of the ranch.
The Sierra Bonita became the setting for three acts of
the play. The ranch house was an adobe hacienda built in
a quadrangle about a hundred feet square with outside
walls of eighteen feet to discourage attacks by the Apaches.
Three sides of the interior were faced with windows and
doors opening into a court. The fourth side of the quad­rangle
was a series of sheds for animals and a low wall
with a large gate.
Henry C. Hooker, himself, interested Thomas. He was
a quiet little man who substituted intelligence for reckless -<Q
~
ARIZONA HIGHWAYS
~
ci)
III £
bravery and had stood his own against Indian depredations
and cattle rustlers. The rancher's simple speech and keen
observations on frontier life fascinated Thomas. But the
playwright was not satisfied. The slight quiet little man
did not seem to look the part of an Arizona ranchman,
and Thomas took the liberty of replacing Hooker in his
mind with a more robust frontiersman. Henry C. Hooker
became the Henry Canby of ARIZONA and the most col­orful
character in the play.
Thomas listened attentively and as soon as he was out
of Hooker's presence he would write down the rancher's
words. Many of Hooker's own speeches were put in the
mouth of Henry Canby and became famous. One spe~ch
particularly became an audition piece for actors of the
day.
In commenting on a man being a man in Arizona
Canby says, "We take a man on here and ask no ques­tions.
We know when he throws his saddle on his horse
whether he understands his business or not. He may be
a minister backslidin', or a banker savin' his lung, or a
train robber on his vacation- we don't care. A good many
of our most useful men have made their mistakes. All we
care about now is, will they stand the gaff? Will they
set sixty hours in the saddle holdin ' a herd that's tryin' to
stampede all the time?"
Colonel Sumner suggested that Thomas visit San Car­los,
and Thomas made the journey hoping to witness an
Indian uprising to serve as the background for the play.
The trip took two days and was over such rugged country
the ambulance had to be abandoned at the end of the first
day and the trip continued on horseback.
The trails on the hogback mountains were so narrow
everything had to be trusted to the surefooted army horses.
On the steeper trails Thomas was forced to dismount and
follow along behind his horse clinging to his tail as a tow.
Across the ridges the wind came howling at forty miles an
hour and made traveling exceedingly difficult where a
fall meant instant death in the canyon below.
It was rough going for Thomas and in his autobiog­raphy,
THE PRINT OF My REMEMRBANCE, in describing
the experience he wrote, "There were long stretches
through the little brooks between these mountains where
the chaparral dragged at your bootlegs and the higher
switches slapped you on the head so that you kept it
tucked into the shoulders, with the campaign hat pulled
down to fend them from drawing blood. From the per­spiration
gathered in one of these levels we went again
to other heights so cold that last week in March that we
turned up the collars of our leather jackets lined with
sheepskin; yet we rode through the bright air so clear that
the sun burned our cheeks more swiftly than August in
the Missis~ippi Valley."
At noon they stopped to rest the horses and have lunch.
Thomas was astonished to see an Indian put a coffee pot
on three little stones no larger than hen eggs, slip under
it a bunch of grass no larger than a shaving brush, feed it
with a few splinters, and boil two quarts of coffee quicker
than he had seen coffee made on a stove.
When he reached San Carlos the playwright was com­pletely
exhausted. Fortunately he was taken in charge
by a kindly fat old doctor who prescribed a hot bath.
Gratefully Thomas included the doctor in his play. The
next morning when Thomas started for the mess he took
ARIZONA HIGHWAYS
each step carefully, hanging on to everything within
reach. Half paralized he was suffering from a bad case
of horse rheumatism.
A week at San Carlos was educational and Thomas
spent most of his time studying the Apaches at first hand.
They were to supply the background for the play and the
action was to be climaxed by an Indian uprising.
Inspired, with his head full of ideas and interesting
characters and a notebook black with notes, Thomas re­turned
to his home in New Rochelle in April and began
the actual writing of the play, ARIZONA.
As he had planned, Colonel Sumner became Colonel
Bonham; Henry C. Hooker, Henry Canby; Mrs. Forres­tine
Hooker, Bonita; Tony, himself; and the Sierra Bo­nita
the Aravaipa Ranch. The plot evolves around the
young wife of Colonel Bonham who allows herself to be
talked into running away with Captain Hodgman. Dis·
covered by Lieutenant Denton their elopement is blocked
but Denton is discovered in Mrs. Bonham's room. Un­able
to explain why he is there, Denton accepts a charge
of robbery and resigns his commission in the army.
The last acts when Tony shoots Hodgman and Lieu­tenant
Denton is charged with the shooting as an act of
revenge was originally set against an Indian uprising, but
true to his sense of dramatic values in current events,
Thomas changed the ending. Early on the morning of
February 16, 1898, a friend called Thomas to tell him
that the Maine had been sunk and war with Spain was im­minent.
Returning to his manuscript the playwright
scratched out all reference to the Indian uprising and made
the background of ARIZONA the raising of a troop of cow­boy
soldiers for the Spanish-American War.
The accuracy of Thomas' imagination was confirmed
a few days later when Colonel Leonard Wood was au­thorized
to raise a troop of cavalry. He and Lieutenant­Colonel
Theodore Roosevelt went West and organized the
First Volunteer Cavalry, better known as the Rough
Riders.
The war held up the staging of ARIZONA for a year,
but in the summer of 1899 Kirke LaShelle assembled a
cast in Chicago which included some of the great names of
the theatre. Theodore Roberts played Canby. The vil­lainous
Captain Hodgman was played by Arthur Byron.
Vincent Serrano was cast as the Mexican, Tony. Down
61t the bottom of the cast of characters was Lieutenant
Young acted by Lionel Barrymore.
The play was an instant success in Chicago. The back­ground
of the Rough Riders made the play timely, the
plot gave it suspense, and the fresh characters clothed
ARIZONA with reality. The play opened at the Herald
Square Theatre in New York on September 10, 1900, and
two years later at the Adelphi Theatre in London. For
years the play was featured on the road and in stock as one
of the most popular plays of the American stage. Artcraft
made the play into a silent movie and recently Columbia
Pictures filmed a version with John Wayne in the lead.
After fifty . years ARIZONA is still good entertainment
and has been diminished little in its theatrical luster. It
is hard to say if it is Thomas' best play, but if you will look
in The College Standard Dictionary you will read
THOMAS, AUGUSTUS, (1857-1934) an American journalist
and playwright; ARIZONA.
For half century the play " Arizona" has
held attention of audiences. Production
of Phoenix College proved signal success.
PHOTOGRAPHS By
- - -,....,.. ,·. . ,L __ -'_
Ily AU(lUSTUS THO)lAS
[),...., • ..Jllyn:cILA. I[ERS1·E)1
Llnip«l&nd U~ht«l B.JQIIN PAUl.
f "' .. , ProdO«<! ~'I(h G.-I S...,. ..
in C\!o<"""a..dNcw Vcr~ in In'!
HENRY C""'HY. o~n .. ~f ", .. alp. Bondi DOll" COOl:
COLONEL I,lONHAX,E'-"on,h!JniIedS\.o ... C ••• I'1' NOR.\IAS:'f:!!iON
MilS. CANBY, .. ,f. of , .... """,I><"
EKTIlFoI.J..A HOSIIAM •• ,1. ~I u.. CoIon.1 JAC<,I u r ~1f,ItC!;"
U:SAKELLAI< •• wai',....
1.IEUTESAST ])ESTON. I:lr.·..,'hl:ni'.dSt.t .. C.v.I'l' RU.1VOYC'E
BONITA C"S~V . I:',,,,U.·, ~;".. P .. T l' )U. .. IW
wrSS MaeCUI.I.AG II . . .. t.ool ... ,h" HETII .. S,rYKE
~:i;:i:U:,~'';:~~: l;::~n,~ uUn~::: .;:'.:.~ ' (':~~;~; ,- 1~~~/l~S~E~'lI;~
S t:KGE .. ST QU IGI.EY . EI."·,,,h U .. ,"d ~,~ ... C .... ,,· ZRKE I''''UOSSO:>
~?E~\:~:~~~~~L~~~'~" .. n'h U"itod S,_ .. , ('".k,' ~~..:-::~\~~~~~~~
SEKGEAST ](ELL .. K.f.I .... thU.,\<'<!S"' .... C ... I" How .. ,WKUN][
1.IEUTf.S"NTYOUNG.EI" ',.'hUn,todS'at".Ca,.I,y J"C](I'ERRELL
)fAJORCOGHR"N. r. ..... '" U.,'...! S"" .. C,,·.I,,· JOE WH .. ",:s
S .... WOSG • • """" IIOS III YEKS
S\Jl.l>l t:f<S ~"flillfl:;tE,;'t8::~~~yr.ALI'1l n:KGUSON.
~rc'i:\·G'i.I~.~I~~~?c't! :;'~E:O:ESTOS. URTV loIAIITINI:Z.
SPECIAL MUSIC 8ffORE THE PLAY IY
THE T/l:IO CAUNA
ACT ,
CAIi'8Y'S RASCH HOUSE _ An .. ' ·A II'A VAlLEY. ARI%ONA
MI~S MAKEMSON ACCOMPANIED ay GENE PINE
"ONlY A 81/1:0 IN A GIlDED CAGE-MlN'S
QUA/l:TET
"CONlY 15LAND UU" and "KENTUCKY ua<'
l'obl."tyJ..oS)tn:RS.CAROl.n:Rp.t:LI.
1I .. 01f, .. JOVCr.I'II"SlER.GLt:SIlf.S.
~~~iv E~SI·'tn::iil:l.~I~.tL
~~:~~T~u:tITRCJ~E~T£R.
P"'i'A;i£':it.rJfYEIIS . .. NIi'E
I_..,....J b,.JOHN THOMPSON
l'ol>e .. PHO£NIXCOLLE(O£
UONOR80 .. RI>
Arizona of territorial days is relived
the stirring scenes of drama. Author car.
West to frontier and found life excitin
McLAUGHLIN & Co_
ARIZONA HIGHWAYS JULY, 1949
A 10m-10m, clIO n 1-
ers and a ring 0/
ceremonial dancers .
...
~
~
III
~
... "-
Late in August, when the fig trees and the melon vines
and the corn stalks are heavily laden, and the weight of
lush, ripe, pink and · yellow peaches sweep burdened
branches low within reach of industrious brown hands ...
when a soft mellow harvest moon bathes the canyon walls
that tower over the fertile valley home of the Havasupai
Indians, two days and nights are set aside by the council
for a thanksgiving holiday. Friends and relatives from
tribes up on the rim: the Navajo, the Hualpai, the Hopi
and others are invited to join in the forty-eight hours of
~~ .
The day before the festivities begin, a bleak lonely ledge
AluZONA HIGHWAYS
I3Y ALLEN C. REED
PHOTOGRAPHS I3y THE A UTHOR
IN SUPAILAN D
of rock high in the desert vastness of the upper rim coun­try
begins to show signs of life. Visitors arrive by way of
a narrow precipitous road that squeezes in from the table­land,
along a sheer solid rock wall to where a horse trail
begins. The day wears lazily on and the bright August
sun blazes down on the Indians as they appear out of the
"CANYON CASCADE" By ALLEN C. REED. This is a photograph of
Fifty-Foot Falls, the first and the smallest of five beautiful falls along
seven miles of blue Havasu Creek (also called Cataract Creek) be­tween
Supai and the Colorado River. The other four falls in sequence
are Navajo, Havasu, Mooney, and Beaver. The largest falls are over
200 feet. This photo was made on a warm August afternoon during
the annual Supai Peach Festival with a 4x5 Crown Graphic. The
Kodak Ektar lens setting was fll at 1/25th of a second, Ektachrome.
A truck infinitesimal on the last
mile to Hilltop, edges along the
first of many steps into the canyon.
Isolated Hilltop, where the road ends
and the trail begins, is approximately
65 miles from u. S. Highway 66.
The well-kept trail winds down thl
white wall, across a desert plateau tc
work its way into deeper canyons
distance on foot, on horseback, or by larger groups in
trucks.
By dusk the rock promontory is again deserted except
for an empty cattle truck. a pickup or two, and maybe a
weather-beaten sedan. Where the car tracks end, it is
written with footprints in the dust of the trail that many
horses have recently passed that way, and many people.
They will be on the trail three or four hours, zig-zagging
down steep canyon vvalls, across barren flats, through nar­row
winding crevasses of red sandstone, and down dry
washes. They will see no water until at last they round a
rocky corner where close by, out of springs, bubbles Cata­ract
Creek. Supai lies at their feet.
It is dusk, and the moon yet low in the East blankets
the canyon in deep shadows. The stars in the nano,,·
strip of sky glow like reflections of the supper fires on the
can yen floor. The twinkling fires of the Havasupais seem
to be reflections of the stars. A timeless moment to hesi­tate,
as though on a cloud. enveloped above and below by
the heavens as an evening breeze brings a fragrant whisp
"SANDSTONE AND SUN FJ.OW EHS" By ALLEN C. REED. Tall sa nd ­stone
monoliths high on the redwall overlooking Supailand symbolize
the an cient gods of the Havasupai Indians. whose canyon home is a t
th eir base. The golden crowned sunflowe rs (H elranthus annuus )
spread at their feet probably have no particular significance other than
that this is a fine field in which to r<lise a food crop just as the corn
and squash are plentiful in bordering fi elds. This photo was taken
ilhout twe nty yards from where the dances ilnd rodeo ilre held at til('
Festival. Crown Graphic, £16 at 1/10lh secone! on 4x5 Ektachrome.
of wood smoke blended with the scent of clover, flowers,
willows, and cottonwoods that abound in this blessed can­yon
-locked oasis. What a thrill the unveiling of this sun­den.
astonishing contrast must be by daylight to the trail­weary
traveler. The Indian visitors, however, except for
the youngest, have been here many times to celebrate the
harvest. They melt into the darkness of the canyon to
appear again in small groups at each of the many rings of
firelight where friends and r elatives have been awaiting
their arrival. The can yon walls ring with the echo of hap­py
voices and laughter and the fires burn brighter in the
night.
For two days and nights there will be visiting, dancing,
gambling, rodeo contests and games as the two hundred
canyon people play host to their brothers from the outside
world. There is no artificial pomp and fanfare, no super­ficial
makeup solely to entertain tourists, although the
white tourist is always more than welcome to join in all
the fun with these friendly soft-spoken people. The cele­bration
will go on the same if there are no white visitors
or if there are several dozen. Since this annual event is
called the "Peach Festival" one might expect to see a great
display of peaches. But no scantily dressed Indian maidens
are to be found posing on heaps of peaches Hollywood style.
The term is merely symbolic of the harvest time celebra­tion.
The peaches that still remain on the trees are destined
to follow those already halved and drying in the sun on
The only means of supplying Supai's
needs is by pack horse or mule down
one of the two trails from the rim.
The trail leads down many dry
washes under cover of stately, colorful
red walls that echo with each step.
No picture can capture the charm o.
Supai in the moonlight, the restful
ness, little sounds, a fragrant breeze
T he rodeo consists mainly of contests in team-roping,
calf roping, wild cow milking, and fast bulldogging.
An old Havasupai gentleman treasures a puff on
his cigarette. Another idly watches the dancers.
Gambling is a favorite pastime of the Havasupais.
Many an hour is whiled away in poker games.
A lineup of rodeo contestants. W hen you visit Supai, one cthese horsemen will meet you at Hilltop to be your guide.
rock ledges of the canyon walls. The Supai is honest, kind
and thrifty. He is good to the earth and the earth is good
to him. He respects the bounty it offers in his little para­dise
and stores it to be used wisely.
Much has been written and illustrated about the scenic
splendor of Supailand by day with its magnificent falls of
sky blue water ... but venture down during the Peach
Festival for then the charm does not lift with the setting of
the sun. You'll find yourself standing in dry warm sand,
a vertical atom beneath towering red walls, with no light
other than a gentle yellow moon bathing your surround­ings.
The throb-throb of the tom toms and the so ft wailing
chant of the singers swells over you, punctuated by the
rythmic chink chink chink of the dancers' spurs, as their
bobbing moonlight shadows cross your path. The far
away world ceases to exist and a heady impulse pulls you
to the ring of dancers where you grasp friendly brown
hands on each side of you and for hour upon hour your
feet fall automatically into the pattern of that peculiar lit­tle
rythmic side shuffle while singers seated on the ground
in the center of the ring are chanting. You feel a pleasant
something stirring from the depths of your soul. A tingling
overpowering sensation that has slumbered deep within
your inner being a thousand genera tions wells up and it
seems that it would be delightful to stop time right here
and hold that pace forever. But th e sky is graying in the
East and your legs ache [mel the moon reluctant to leave
such a pleasant setting has paused like a big yellow prize
peach on the canyon rim high above for just a moment be­fore
it slips from sight to make way for another day.
-. ~.- - .
VVhen planning to visit Supailand it is wise to first tele­phone
or write "The Indian Agent. Supai. Arizona" to get
information and to make arrangements in advance for
horses and Indian guides to meet your party at Hilltop.
Sleeping accommodations are available in a U. S. Indian
Service building with all modern conveniences anel facili­ties
for cooking, etc. It has in the past been necessary to
take provisions along as there are no points of purchase in
Supai.
In the company of your compe tent, friendly, Indian
guide it is a safe, easy, never-to-be forgotten trip for anyone
who can ride a horse and can thrill to an unusually impres­sive
experience with an out-of-this-world flavor.
Supai, deep in a branch of the Grand Canyon shows muc"vidence of the Havasupai's skill zn working with the soil.
The P. A. system is a megaphone, the judges equipment
is a shady cottonwood tree, a stopwatch, and a pad.
Along towards morning many sleeping forms are
to be seen on the ground around the dance ring.
From dusk till dawn the H avasupais clasp hands and
dance. When some drop out to rest others fill in.
This porlrait of Quang [(ee, pioneer of Tombstone, was
taken just before his death.
DRAWINGS
Ih
Ross SANTEE
PIONEER OF TOMBSTONE
BY OPIE RUNDLE BURGESS
The four o'clock sky of a January af ternoon in 1938 was
shaded by great white clouds. shifting their positions in the
blue sky as though they too were interested in watching the
curtain drop on the last scene of a great drama of western
life. On the rocky knoll of 1300thill Cemetery a gathering
of people was waiting the burial of Quong Kee, Tomb­stone's
last Chinese.
Those who waited were school children, officers of the
state of Arizona, men i.n overalls, men in chaps, men in
business clothes, and even women in fur coats from the
east attracted by the unusual news of a burial at Boothill
Cemetery . They all stood pensive, watched and listened
to the reading of the Scriptures. After the services were
read, the tones of brass instruments muffled and softened
by the wind accompanied the choir as they sung, "Abide
with Me." He was laid to rest among the friends of his
adopted country, and relatives of his native land. Quong
Kee's life on this earth was over. He had long out-lived
the hell raising days when the west was young, for T umb­stone,
his home, one of the wildest was now tamed.
Facts concerning the birthplace of Quong, and his boy­hood
days are disputed. Some say Hong Kong, others say
y
ARIZON;, HIGHWAYS
C<1nton. It milde no difference to those who knew the be­nevolent.
good samaritan who had lived a life of service to
the needy. Quong Kee believed, as all Chinese do, that
food is medicine, and no one ever left his place hungry.
Quong came from China to Virginia City when that
ramp was ripping the gold lining from earth's deep pockets.
There, Quong obtained a job as a cook's helper in the min­ing
camp, and there he watched history develop poor
men into millionaires.
He was in the street when the Vigilantes hanged a
member of the notorious Plummer gang. Although years
later, Quong shook his head from the eerie thoughts of his
experiences in that wild city where there was no law, nor
consideration of justice. A ing of bullets generally ans­wered
all doubts.
"Me scaird all the time, plenty wild men. All the time
in Virginia City some one get robbed-bang, someone die
in the streets. When the Vigilantes come, they brave men.
They catch robbers and hang five in one day. Plenty ex­citement
in Virginia City."
Like so many of the early western boom camps, Vir­ginia
City took her turn in becoming a ghost camp, so
Quang polished his pots and pans, and served stew to th~
Union Pacific workers as they started its long strips of
steel across the continent. Quong watched with interest as
each rail was laid, until the gold spike connecting the rails
united the life of a great nation. During the ceremony he
watched solemnly with the others, afterwards he made
"Whoopee," with the others. "Lailload men work plenty
hard, in rain, snow, mud, but pay-days they raise plenty
hell. "
When Stockton, California's boom railroad town, buh­bled
and seethed with new people and excitement, Quong
Kee was numbered among them. There he opened a res­taurant,
and watched others throw their easily earned
money on the gambling tables only to be scooped
or raked in by the gamblers, but not Quong, "he smart
man," he worked from early dawn to the wee small hours
of the morning, always patiently smiling, but at the same
time saving his money so lIe coulu return to China. He
re turned to his native city just once, but not before he es­tahlished
lIis citizenship. In China he left a wife and an
un born son ,,,hom he was lIe\'e1" to sec. The son died when
a very young man.
U pan his return from China, Arizona let it be known to
the ou tside world that she held ri ch deposi ts of silver, and
it belonged to the first one who came alld found it.
Adobe houses, stores, and sa loons sprung up like magic
in a new mining camp cillled Tombstone. In its youth this
vvild, rich camp true to the rorm of the early 80's played
the game of life fast and furiou s. Some of her people found
the rich ore, others drank. gamhled, and shot up the town
for amusement. lYloney was spent freely and carelessly.
but wise Quang Kee worked through the long hours of each
day, and far into the night in 11is restaurant that he oper­ated
with his cousin; Ah Lum. It was the famous Can Can
~ Eo<
~
V3
IOl £
T he Can Can was a popular place in the boom days of old
Tombstone. Ah Lum, Quong Kee's partner, is shown herp
restaurant, which today still shows marks of bullet scars of
Tombstone's hey-day.
Quang called everyone his friend. Some men were
worthy of the honor, others were not. He knew Wyatt
Earp, who ",us good to Quang, although others when they
saw YVya tt coming their way detoured down another al­ley.
Quang paid respect to young Billy Clanton who was
killed by Virgil Earp at the O. K. Stables. "He good man,
always paid his bills."
Quang was also a friend of Curley Bill, the rustler.
Quang in his quiet smiling way would say, "Curley Bill
he pay quick, laugh a lot, some say Curley Bill bad fellow,
he restler, he never bad to Quang." The eyes of the old Chi­nese
twinkled as he smiled and said, "Curley Bill know
Quang has no cows."
Quang knew them all, good and bad. He had fed them,
laughed with them, and grub-staked many, some when
they found their pot of gold remembered Quang, others for­got.
In his restaurant, he served good meals and plenty of
food. He had everything but fresh milk, "No catchum
cow, just tin cow." The gambler, cowman, miner, rustler,
officer and gunmen all ate at Quang's Can Can restaurant.
Quang in his aging years loved to live over the days of
the past, and many an interesting story he has told, for his
life had been the life of the west; it was the boom towns of
the rough and roaring railroad camps, of the smoke hazed
rooms, and the clinking of poker chips. It contained a
vivid picture of the high comedy, and the deep tragic life
of the colorful days of early Tombstone, where he spent
most of his life.
One of the interesting stories showing the reputed wis­dom
of the Chinese was of an incident when five cowboys
rode into town after many long months on the range. They
landed at Quang's restaurant after visiting all the saloons
ARIZONA HIGHWAYS
Here is Quong Kee's grave in Tombstone's Boothill. Fence
'"If ocotillo protects the tombstone, erected by loyal friends.
~hat lined both sides of the street. Their spirits at tha t time
were at high tide, and the cowboys were looking for some­thing
to do, which they did. They turned Quang's restau­rant
upside down. The frightened waiter and cook fled
out of the back door. Quang, not very far up the street,
heard the disturbance, hurried back to his place of busi­ness.
He opened the door and looked about at the unsight­ly
mess of sugar. canned milk, and catsup smeared on the
broken dishes strewn on the floor, with every table and
chair turned upside down. He quietly, and smilingly said
to the hilariOlls cowboys, "You sit down, and be quiet, if
you want dinner Quang serve you, if not, get out."
The cowboys amused at his unspirited defense made
Quang the unwilling witness of further hilarity. When
they left, his friends wanted Quang to have them arrested,
but he refused. "No arrest them. when they sober up, they
sorry . They come back and pay for everything. Arrest
them, no, Quang lost five friends. They get mad and not
pay."
Several days later one of the cowboys did return and
in a repentent~ shameful manner said, "fIo,,,, much do we
owe you ?" The cowboy paid for all the damages, and
Quang kept his five friends.
There was a time when he had so much money he
didn't know what to do with it, but those days became like
pages in an old book, as the mines in Tombstone closed.
and the streets became lonely and forlorn. Many of the
famous old places closed, and the windows wore a wooden
patch. Quang's restaurant in Pearce, Charleston, and
Tombstone "go bust," as he would say. His books held
more money than. the till. Quang never believed in going
to court to collect any of · his bills, as he would shake his
head and mutter, "In court the lawyers collect money, but
lawyer take money. Quang have no money, no friends."
As the years slipped by Quang was a picturesque fig­ure
on the street of Tombstone. This aged Chinese had a
small, faithful dog always trotting at his heels. When he
rested, the dog rested. The pioneers of Tombstone loved
and respected Quang Kee. He was a link of the broken
chain of the old days.
The fast onrushing machine age bewildered him. Once
Jack Meadlock took Quang to Tucson for an outing in his
automobile. As they spun over the beautiful paved high­way
Quang related his experiences of the early days, and
told of his first ride to Tombstone in the old rickety stage­coach
over a country where the drivers didn't have much
use for roads, always looking for a short cut, and to stay
out of the way of Apaches. When Quang looked at the
speedometer which had reached the 60 m.p.h. he scratched
his head and said, "Too damn fast for Quang Kee."
Feeble and more feeble grew his footsteps . His tooth­less
smile always radiant. His voice calling his dog in b
failing tone. Quang felt the end of his days approaching,
and he was ready to go. He once said to a friend, "Quang,
waiting for the bell."
He spent his last days on county charity, and the kind­ness
and help from friends who couldn't forget the old Chi­nese
who did so much good. Often when a friend clasped
his hand as a friendly gesture Quang would feel a silver
coin or a dollar bill in his palm. He loved children, and he
was his happiest when making individual pies for them, or
giving them a sack of candy. Quang's one unpolished habit
was his swearing; he felt he never could express his feeling
without the use of a swear word, learned as part of the Eng­lish
language in the rough and ready mining camps.
One morning Hal Smith, the town's marshall, noticed
that the aged Quang did not take his usual morning saunter.
Smith, with a few other friends investigated, and found
Quang unconscious on the floor of his small room near
Tough Nut street. He was sent to the County Hospital,
where death followed a few hours later.
During that day his friends waited for information of
his condition. Impatient, and anxious, Hal Smith tele­phoned
the hospital. When the message that Quang Kee
had died, and had . been buried that afternoon in Bisbee,
struck the ears of Smith, a spark of the old fighting spirit
that prevailed in the 80's flamed among the listeners, gath­ered
to hear the news.
Quick, fiery words, not often used in print, sizzled the
wires. Fury and indignation that Quang Kee, an in­stitution
in Tombstone, was considered so friendless that he
was buried in a pauper 's grave made the town of Tomb­stone
ring with bitterness. Word was soon passed from
lip to lip of the injustice dealt to Quang, and in a very short
time donations were received to bring him back home.
Quang Kee's body was disinterred, and taken back to
Tombstone. His second burial was made fitting to him who
treated everyone as his friend. With dignity, with respect,
with benevolence and tenderness, Quang Kee was laid to
rest.
Could he have spoken, he would with his radiant smile
have said, "Quang Kee's funeral, plitty damn nice."
.AluZONA HIGHWAYS
Oh! h ell o . . . I didn' L hear you come up in back of mc.
I was JUSL sitting h ere looking over a map and sorL of
dreamin' . Dreamin' abouL canyons mostly I guess. I love
canyons. There are all kin ds of canyons and I consider
all of them my fri ends. They range from deep dark mys­lerious
ones in a shadow shroud of for eboding silence to
gay pixy-like settings, frill y wilh bright little Howers and
sunny glens chaperon ed by magnificant, dignified old
lrees. I love each on e, depending on the mood I'm in ...
but when you came up I was thinking of Sycamore Can ­yon
in particular . .. it's on e of my favorites. It's r ighl
her e on the map n ear th e upper r ight hand corner. VVhile
I was studying this map I was sorl of visualizing the r oad
in there. Please sit down for a moment and study th ('
map closely with me and see if you loo can visualize the
places I point out ... we'll or t of go there toge lher. I can
practically see that lillIe roa d now jusl how it looks wh ere
it hi Ls Lh e canyon . Picture a li Ltle winding ro.ad, nOLhing
AnI7.0NA HIGHWAYS
ny ALLEN C. REED
PnoTos BY TIlE A U THOR
much more than a coupl e of tracks. They were wagon
Lracks half a cen Lury ago bu t now some of the hardier cars
and more venture ome dl ·ivers try it out. Just before you
ge t to Lhe place marked Packard's Ranch you can see the
Verde River gli stening in the sun where it is joined by
Sycamor e Cr eek, and to the left a bit the sun would be
gleaming on Lhe r ail s of that little train that goes up the
Verde from Clarkdale to Drake every day, and off to the
right is Sycamore Canyon . I'll tell you about it.
TIIGIIT - " SYCA,\10HE CANYON." This photo was taken at about
4: 30 in the afternoon with a 4 x5 Crown Graphic Camera on Ekta·
ch rome. The Koda k Ek ta r f : 4.7 lens was set a t f : 16, Yz second and a
Kodach rome haze fil te r was used.
CE:'<TEIt PAGES- LEFT- "COOL SHADOWS" is just one little sample
of an in viting path th at runs seve ra l miles up Sycamore Canyon. The
location of this deta il shot is about half way up the row of trees to
tlte right of the creek in the preceding picture. Camel'a data: 4x:l
CrowlI Gra phic, Ektilchrome, Ektar lens, fl 6 at 1/5 second.
"Cool Shadows" "Sycamore Creek"
Sycamore Canyon is not far from Clarkdale.
My map was printed in 1905, before Clarkdale
came into being so I'll just mark it on with my pen
down here in the lower right hand corner between
Jerome and Cottonwood and from there I'll trace
the road into the canyon. As isolated as this can­yon
is we could climb up on the rim and see Clark­dale
off in the distance. A good time would be in
the early morning with the sun just coming up and
the air cool and clear. We could look across the
Verde Valley towards Mingus Mountain and see
the white smoke flowing out of the smelter stacks
in Clarkdale. We could also see the Verde Can ­yon
zig-zagging across the land like a jagged gash
of lightning. And if you'd look close you could
see the winding road we came in on . Try to
imagine that we are actually there.
Look back . . . way down below just under the
shadow cas t by the rim we're on. You can see a
dark line of tree tops peeping up out of Sycamor e.
You can ' t begin to appreciate wha t she's ac tually
like in detail from way up here but in a moment
we'll climb down and I'll properly introduce you
to her. I hope then that you have the same fine
respect for her that I have. I wanted you to look
around from here first so you can ge t an idea of
what the country beyond looks like tha t she pen e­trates
back into. She must run back 25 miles or
so through some wild and rugged coun try . . .
pretty n early up to Williams. She changes char­acter
many times on the way, even runs out of
wa ter up there. But she is in her bes t dress r ight
below us.
You should see the pretty littl e stream down
there, all lined with sycamor e and cottonwood
trees. At some places it moves quite fast, dashing
over rocks, but that's only because it's in a hurry
to get to the cool deep holes to linger in th e shade
and idle along lazily, wandering along the tree
roots with about as much awaren ess of the passing
time as a ten -year -old traveling alon g such banks
to school would have on a warm day in late Spring
when the fi sh are jumping especially good.
CENTER PAGES- RIGIIT-"THE RIVEn AND T IlE CUPPS"
was taken about two miles up from the mouth of Syca­more
where the canvon wa ll s sta rt to close in on the
stream. It was in caves in such walls as this where
Indians of a bygone race made the ir homes. Crown
Graphic 4x5, Ekta r lens, 1125, fll , Ektachrome.
LEFT- "TREEFLECTIONS," It is only just that such
gra ceful trees stand beside a mirror-li ke pool in the
stream, tha t the passe r-by might enjoy their bea uty twice
as much. This E ktachrome was ta ken about noon wi th
a 4x5 Crown Gr'a phic, Ekta r lens, f1 6, 1/10.
, . J ~ !
Off down Sycamore Canyon
the other way, you can see the
creek winding along as it flows
away from us. Just as it comes
out of the trees there where the
banks are flat and sandy is where
it joins the Verde. You can see
the Verde up to the right running
back into the hills along the rail­road
tracks.
Near the far point of that field
tha t the morning sun is creeping
into right below us is an interest­ing
old ranch house, just at the tip
of a tree shadow. On my map it
is called "Packard's Ranch." The
hermits of Sycamore Canyon live
there now, Dick and Jerry . . .
Let's go down, I'll show you the
place.
Let's stop here a moment be­side
the path and look the cabin
over. That stout foundation and
fireplace chimney is of native stone
from the canyon walls. See how
those heavy axe-hewn timbers of
the second story are locked togeth­er
at the corners. Way back when
this place was built they had to
keep warring Indians and renegade
whites in mind. This canyon has
seen many Indian fights and en­campments.
It was one of Geroni­mo's
favorite hangouts and in later
years was known as "Robbers
Roost" when outlaw gangs madE'
it their headquarters. Of course
that corruga ted roof is a la ter ad­dition.
Say, there's Dick sittin' on
the front porch now.
I don't think I know a couple of
nicer guys than Dick and Jerry.
Every time I come to Sycamore I
look forward to a visit with those
two good friends of mine as one of
the highlights of the trip. And
then there's always a batch of
Dick's hot muffins to look forward
to, right fresh out of that dutch
oven over there on the stove . . .
And a jar of Jerry's home canned
pears, from the orchard, sure goes
good right handy to my place at
the table. I always get a bang out
of that dynamite carton breadbox.
Sit down, there's a place for you
right next to Jerry. We'll sample
some first-rate cookin' and chat a
bit before we start up the canyon.
If we had a little fishing gear along we could try our
skill with the smallmouth bass that hide close to the banks
... But wait, I have a better idea. I know of a swell hole
for a nice refreshing swim. See, there it is now, just ahead
where that log crosses. Plenty deep enough and quiet.
Over to the left is a sandy beach for us to go in from.
Aren't those interesting horizontal stripes on it recording
the various water levels as the creek receded after high wa­ter
from the melting snow this spring. We will have that
pool all to ourselves except for perhaps a few beaver.
Further up the canyon there are a number of old caves
that were once the homes of Indians who lived in this part
of the West. You can find such caves in most every can­yon
in Arizona where there is, or was, running water. Over
there where that two hundred foot rock wall rises straight
up out of the water you can see an Indian cave with its
smoke blackened roof about five feet above the water level.
Before you tell me what you think of Sycamore Can­yon
I'd like to have you see some of the larger old syca­mores
that earned the canyon its name.
How about a cool drink of this cryslal clear spring VVI:t­ler
gushing out of the ground. Those tree roots always
remind me of the claw-like fingers of a giant hand clutch­ing
for the water. Let's open our lunch here and put some
water cress in our sandwiches. It has a fresh tangy flavor.
VVe'll have to be careful not to leave any papers around
to spoil the spell of this wonderland for others. Dick, Jerry
and I have buried cans and burned papers that we've found
here more than once, simply because we respect this place
loa much to see it in that condition.
This old fellow measures a bout seventeen feet in cir­cumference.
He's been here a long time and has seen a lot
of history pass by.
Say now, we've chatted a spell haven't we . .. but I get
carried away when I start talking about canyons. So as we
drift back to reality and our visions of Sycamore fade the
lines will re turn to the map to take their place once more.
Here you keep the map, maybe you'll need it to find your
way back there some day. I'll never need it. Sycamore
Canyon is written clearly in my heart.
PHOTOGRAPHS
BY
CHARLES C . NIEHUIS
From the Mogollon Rim
the country is majestic
carpet.
Photographer Niehuis
has a willing editorial as­sistant.
BY GLADYS THOMPSON NIEHUIS
~
V)
.;. ... z
Ol
0-
~
Ol " ~
If the wife of a photogr.apher of wildlife knows more
about lonely evenings than most wives do, she also knows
more about the hard-to-get-to, far away and lovely places,
because every now and then she gets to go along and
watch some wily, wild thing have its picture taken. That
first trip up into the Mogollon Rim country in search of
elk to 'catch' on film was enough to make up for many
solitary evenings at home.
The trip from our Valley to Payson was dusty, hot
and hectic, even in late September, but from there the
road wound like a red thread among the grey-green cedars,
and brought us to Pine, a little drowsing community where
a clear, mountain stream dawdles along its tree-arched
main street. From here it was just a few crooks in the
road to Strawberry Hill, and its twisting length lifted us
to the fire control road known as the Rim Road, which
was built and is kept up by the Forest Service .
Those stately lines from Evangeline, "This is the
forest primeval/" could hav:e been written about some of
ARIZONA HIGITWAYS
that Rim country, with its silent, shadowed tree aisles,
its ferns and wildflowers lying along the roadside, damp
from a transient mountain shower.
The road teased us with only infrequent and fleeting
glimpses of the far-flung view off the Rim, and we were
glad when it finally slid over close to the edge of the rocky
cliff and let us stop and get out to fill our eyes with the
sight.
As in every section of Arizona, the place names along
this drive were intriguing to us. According to our travel­ing
companion, that excellent bulletin, "Arizona Place
Names," published by the University of Arizona Press
and written by pioneer Will C. Barnes, Mogollon (pro­nounced
Muggy-own), was the name of a captain general
of New Mexico, in 1712. It was somewhat disillusioning
to learn that the literal translation of the word means,
'parasite, hanger-on'-but somehow the word, just as a
sound, still retains some of the thunder-like remoteness
of that high, wildwooded plateau itself. Another name
for the area is Tonto Rim. 'Tonto' as every Arizona
school child knows, means 'fool.' The only possible ap­plication
here is: if you have a chance to go up onto the
Rim, and don't go, you are verily 'tonto.'
We noticed many names of the kind you meet in
every section where names given by the early settlers
are still in use, unchanged by Chamber of Commerce or
poetry lovers. These are usually factual and without
any particular individuality, although they tell their own
stories of the wildlife and vegetation of the young West:
Buck Springs, Wildcat Springs, Bear Canyon, Turkey
Creek, Beaver Canyon, Horse Lake, Quaken Aspen, Clover
Springs, ';Yillow Creek, Alder Lake. Sometimes these
obvious names were varied by the use of the Spanish
equivalent for a common name, as was Cienega Canyon.
'Cienega' is simply the Spanish word for 'spring,' and is
fittingly formed by the two words 'cien': hundred, and
'agua': water. Sometimes a little more imagination was
exercised on an obvious name, as in Horse Trap Canyon.
which tells a story that needs no interpreter. Barbershop
Ridge and Cracker Box Canyon; :YOu can visualize the
old timers who named them-perhaps short on delicate
feeling for nature's beauty, but long on a good sense of
humor. There were the places named for people. many
of whom have been dead and forgotten for many years
now, the stories behind them all but obliterated: Dane
Ridge, Kent Spring, Baker's Butte, Dick Hart Ridge. But
the names that most catch the ear that listens for the f!'\ding
echo of the real Old West are those with the thundering
sound of cavalry and Indian drums in them: Battleground
Ridge. and General's Springs for two, are reputed to have
seen clashes between soldiers and the Apaches.
Another imagination-exciter was the discovery of pet­rified
seashells-cockleshells. was our guess. Once when
we stopped to look at an off-the-Rim vista framed in pines.
we found that stretch of the road actually paved with
these white shells, now turned to stone. That set our
minds back to speculate about pre-historic floods, geologi­cal
changes and the scientific belief that at one time a
large part of Arizona and California was covered bv the
sea. Anyway, we kept a few shells as souvenirs ~f the
trip, for the idea of finding seashells at 8,000 feet elev<l ­tion,
in Arizona, is a rather astonishing one.
After some miles of the beautiful Rim Drive. my
adventurer spouse turned our car onto a little trail. nut~
I could be thankful for springs under us, and only hope
they could withstand the beating. Day was just r,oing by
the time we jolted and rocked to the end of the trail,
splashed across a small creek and over a beautiful meadow­like
clearing. to pull up beside a real log cabin, with a wisp
of blue. smoke arising against the dusky background of
dark, old pine trees. Gene, the mountain man who was
expeetin~ us, came out to greet us in the real Western
wav. "Get out and come on in. You're just in time."
'In time' meant we were invited to share his Sllpper. and
altholl[(h we had c('me prepared to do our own cooking.
outside, his invitation was welcome- and his food was
good.
After we had helped with the dishes, Gene showed
us where we could bunk- in the feed barn. There were
beds and "ve had our own bedrolls. It was ple!'\sant to
bed the boys down. then go back to the lamp-lit cabin
and sit nnd talk with the mountaineer, listen to his tales
of the woods and the animals in it, as he knew them.
The majestlc San Francisco Peaks are watchful guardians over the Rim Country.
ARIZONA HIGHWAYS
"You want pictures? You set somewhere out of sight
and watch that salt lick and waller, in the spring up yon­der
in the clearing," he told Charles, "and you'll see elk.
There's a bull and his harem coming down there almost
every evening."
The next morning was as crisp as the pine needles
under our feet, and the place was ours, since Gene had to
go to Winslow, to be gone for several days.
"Just make yourselves 't home. Cook in my cabin, get
your water from the spring. Better keep the kids away
from that pet deer-he's mean sometimes. If I don't see
you again before you leave, hope you get some good pic­tures,
Charlie."
So, the day was spent constructing a blind from which
Charles hoped to 'shoot' the elk, and in getting acquainted
with our surroundings, which included the inquistive tame
deer (I say 'tame' advisedly) McArthur (aptly named).
Along about five o'clock, Charles took up his station
in the blind. several hundred yards from the house, as
the boys and I watched from the woodpile near the cabin.
What an enveloping quiet settled on the little vale! A
sort of stillness that must be what the poets mean by the
"witching hour." The harsh, warning squawks of the blue­jays,
the chattering of the squirrels, the innumerable voices
of the songbirds and the myriad, humming, creaking in­sect
noises-all were suspended for a few magic moments
just before the light began to fade, as if to say, '"Listen,
here comes Night!" It was almost unbearably exciting to
sit waiting for the elk to appear in the clearing-wild crea­tures
that would melt away at the first suspicious sight or
smell. It was the same kind of breathless thrill we used to
ARIZONA HIGHWAYS
PHOTOGRAPHS BY I CHARLES C. NIEHUIS
feel when we played hide-and-seek as children in the twi·
light.
Then, I saw dark shapes down the draw move quietly
into the open. Their backsides were light, so I knew they
must be elk, and I could hardly contain my elation. Was
Charles getting his pictures? I hoped there was light
enough. It was hard to quiet two action-itching city boys.
The spell was lifted a little by the sight of McArthur
strolling past us and out toward Charles in the blind. Sure­ly
he wouldn't frighten the elk. No, he had stopped to
browse, thank goodness. My relief was short-lived, for
McArthur suddenly jerked up his head with something
in his mouth that wasn't brush or grass-it was my hus­band's
extension cord, going from the battery on his
camera to lights which he had carefully placed out from
his blind to light the pictures, if the animals should be
in range! Another toss and these lights were pulled over
an irate man emerging from his hideaway to threaten
that deer with mayhem!
Then I learned, with amazement at the way my senses
had fooled me. that the 'elk' had not been elk at all. but
wild turkeys. 'In the fading light the distance had seemed
farther than it was, and the dark shapes with light rumps
had looked much like larger animals would if seen at a
longer distance! Even Charles had seen the likeness, but
I was still chagrined at having mistaken a turkey for that
king of the Arizona woodlands, the elk!
Charles had taken a few still shots of the turkeys but
since motion picture film was scarce and he still hoped
to see elk, he had taken no movie sequences.
Another idyllic day was spent exploring the trails
,
and tangles of undergrowth in the woods near the cabin,
sketching wildflowers and experiencing the thrill of find­ing
a few late, little rubies of strawberries hidden in their
leaves underfoot. The boys spent most of their day per­forming
engineering feats down at the small stream mak­ing
its casual way through the miniature valley: : Op~ in­cident,
a shadow of coming events, was an'other ti.ff be­tween
Charles and McArthur. The deer, curious, il').sisted
on planting himself in the way of the saw, as Charles' was
using the bucksaw to provide wood for the ever-hungry
cookstove. When reasoning failed, Charles attempted to
'shoo' him by waving a hat. Then that animal, famed in
story and song for its soft brown eyes and ,gentle ways,
rolled those eyes, and forsaking gentle ways, reared up on
hind feet, slashing with his sharp-hooved forefeet. Now
it was open warfare!
Another long, tense wait that evening produced no elk
to be photographed! Charles was getting tired sitting in
the blind. "I'm wondering if I'll develop a callus before
I become completely paralyzed," he speculated as he put
his camera and lights away that night, Still, I knew that
the experience was not more lost on him than it was on us,
elk or no.
Three more golden autumn days were spent in our
beautiful mountain valley-we could pretend it was ours,
couldn~t we? The fourth evening our excitement had been
high-for about fifteen minutes-as four, fat, sieek cow
elks moved easily but warily out of the dark ,~oods up by
the salt lick, and made their way to the water. We knew
the big fellow bull was behind, ~ince that is the way of the
big, brave male elk-he lets his wives reconnoiter for him.
Charles 'held his fire,' although he admitted later his 'trig­ger
finger' had itched to take shots of the cows, but he
knew that if the slight whirring and click of the camera
frightened the girls, their Lordship wouldn't appear. So,
we waited tense minutes in the deepening dusk, then some
sound or scent must have alarmed the cows, for suddenly,
as one, they wheeled and loped swiftly back, as they had
come. We knew they wouldn't reappear that evening, and
of course, the light was too faint now for good exposure.
And-the e!k pictures? It took two more return trips,
two more Septembers, without the family with him,
before Charles got them. They came then, as most good
things do, unexpectedly. Charles was standing in a clear­ing
trying to focus on an especially large flock of wild
turkeys, when who shou.1d step out into the open, in all his
regal male beauty, but a big, bull elk with a magnificent
rack of horns! More than ample compensation for former
disappointments, Sir Elk stepped slowly across the clear­ing,
flooded in its perfect light, head held high as he tested
the wind for the man-smell he must have suspected if he
heard the whirring of the movie camera. It was one of
those rare, once-in-a-lifetime breaks given to all devout
cameramen, I understand. Anyway, Charles used it as
the crowning perfection, to wind up his reel of Arizona Big
Game.
I, too, came back from the Mogollon Rim with a reel
of perfect color pictures-all purely mental, of course­of
those dream-like days in what we consider one of the
most beautiful, unspoiled sections of our state, and where
we hope to have a cabin some day, where we can spend
the summers "when we retire!'
ARIZONA HIGHWAYS
BY CHARLES C. NIEHUIS
JOSEPH MUENCH
The fawn capered out of the thicket into the opening
of the forest. Its mother minced out carefully on delicatp­hooves,
every action spelling alertness. She paused in the
opening, ears catching and tracking each tiny sound.
They suddenly detected the shape foreign to the trees
and bushes of the forest. The fawn froze alongside the
mother deer.
The three of us remained like statues, for several min-utes.
Then the pent-up energy in the fawn reached the
bursting point. It bounded violently, leaping high and
kicking its tiny hooves in the air. Then it circled its mo­tionless
mother twice. In the second turn the little fellow
slid under the doe, laid back its ears and attached an eager
mouth to Nature's flowing milk bar. The fawn's tail
"PLEASANT VALLEY" By JOSEF MUENCH. Photqgraph was taken
with a 4x5 Speed Graphic, Daylight Kodachrome, 1/ 10th second at f20,
with no filter. This scene is part of the Kaibab forest. "We had been
driving through dense forest," Mr. Muench says, "when we came to
this beautiful valley, like a flower garden, with clouds overhead."
The Kaibab is big center
for hunting in the fall.
pointed straight up and wiggled back and forth in ecstacy.
But the mother deer wasn't satisfied with my motion­less
and peaceful presence. She stepped, spraddle-legged,
over her baby and trotted daintily into the thick timber.
The fawn clambered up from his knees and ran after her.
Where else than on the Kaibab Mountain, I ask, can
the average vacationer see such a sight, so often, so easily?
Kaibab Mountain, meaning "mountain lying down" in
the Paiute Indian language, on the North Rim of the Grand
Canyon, is one of the finest deer ranges on the North
American continent. Too, the Kaibab is 'way up out of
the hustling bustling world of heat, smoke and frayed
nerves.
As your car climbs out of House Rock Valley on the
east, or up out of the sagebrush flats on the north, going to
the Kaibab, you begin to feel the atmosphere of the Moun­tain-
Lying-Down. You leave the heat of the lowlands
behind. The sweet, cool wind brings you a heady scent
of pine, spruce and aspen.
The first place you reach as you top out on the moun­tain
is Jacob Lake. That name is a confuser--don't look
for a lake-the spot has no lake, only a sink that is partly
filled with water and used now for cattle.
You Will find the little settlement friendly here. There
are all possible accommodations for the traveler at Harold
Bowman's Jacob Lake Inn ... cabins, meals, and horses
to ride. There is entertainment, too.
If you can crawl out of bed early, you're in for a mem­orable
experience as you go into the cafe just when they
open the doors. It will be dark and cooL The many
noises and exciting odors of breakfast preparation will
come out of the kitchen. Uncle Billy Crosby will be mak­ing
coffee in the big urn back of the counter, or be sitting
on the stool-the one closest to the coffee pot-waiting for
the drink to brew.
He's of the old school, the people who drink their cof­fee
black and hot. It will soon be ready and you'll hear
the thump of his boot heels on the wooden floor as he walks
over to draw a cup and start his day. About that time
he'll turn to you and ask if you are ready for your coffee
too.
To Uncle Billy, that drinking of the first cup of coffee
is a morning rituaL Although he takes it straight, he sets
yours up with cream and sugar and comments, "Some peo­ple
like to spoil it-maybe you do---use all the sugar you
like, but stir it up, we don't mind the noise."
Uncle Billy is a landmark at Jacob Lake, and rightful­ly
so. The rawhide-tough little pioneer of the Kaibab,
who speaks as gently and carefully as a college professor,
will regale you with sharp quips, western humor, and ex­cite
your imagination with tales of adventure.
Some · time during the conversation he will be sure to
direct you south to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.
Be sure to take his advice!
If you do, you go some forty miles southward from
Jacob Lake Inn, along a beautiful road which curves nat­urally
and swings gracefully through the clumps of trees,
opening new vistas to you every few turns. Finally it
"POINT IMPERIAL" By JERRY MCLAIN. Here the Grand Canyon
of Arizona is seen from Point Imperial on the North Rim. By every
C?mparison the Grand Canyon in this view is a designer's master­plece;
majestic in its immensity and delicate in its color and detail.
The visitor finds many such scenes at Point Imperial, where the
sweeping size of the Grand Canyon is continuously unbelievable, but
for this view the photographer hiked away from the surfaced highway
and found this point on a wooded hillside where stately trees framed
the chasm. Kodachrome taken about 3:30 p.m., 4x5 Pacemaker
Speed Graphic on tripod, Kodak Ektar f4.7 lens, Graphex shutter,
exposure 1/10 seconds at £18. Here the forest flows into the canyon.
01
::>
ri:
~ :=
E-<
Ol £
JOSEPH MUENCH d h h d
. . I Cabins of Grand Canyon Lodge are scatiere t roug woo s.
Rich vegetation covers the hzgh Kazbab p ateau.
comes to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, and you can
look off into the Big Gorge.
Keep a keen eye on the dark ~?er! y ~u'll see t?e
famed Kaibab deer. They are magmflcent ammals. VIS­itors
to the forest there often vie with eac~ other to see
who can count the most deer in the forty-mIle run to the
Rim Any morning early, or in the late afternoon, the
totai will run over a hundred. Sometimes it wi~l double or
even triple that. There will be herds of them m the open
parks, the forest glades and even standin~ beside th~ road.
A little side trip, along one of the ndges. runnmg off
the main road, will let you see more of :he~e Wlld creatures,
standing statuesquely or trotting m~Jestlcally, a part of
God's landscaping scheme for the ~albab.. .
The climax, if there can be a clImax of lIDpressl~ns on
the Kaibab, comes when you drive around the bend m the
road and come into the head of Pleasant Valley. :~u h~ve
been driving through thick timber, and suddenly It IS wIde,
rolling grass lands-a meadow. The trees retreat o~ each
side. Some whitefaced cattle graze there. You wIll see
deer on the forest fringe. .
The road curves easily and you have that feelmg of
boundless freedom. A blue, blue sky, piled high, .some­times,
with tremendous white, glistening clouds, IS the
canopy.
The forest closes in swiftly as you come to the end of
Pleasant Valley. There will be a rising curve in the road,
and then ... you drop into the head of :'T Park.
Occasionally, you will find a beaubful pond o~ water
beside the road. It won't be large. The lakes aren t large
on the Kaibab, because the mountain is porou~ and water
seeps away but summer rains and melbng wmter snows
keep them full. Wild ducks will. often be on them. In the
dim light of evening, deer step m neat tracks around the
edges. . ' . f K .
A sight you'll remembe: IS. your frrst glimpse 0 a~-
bab Lodge. You will see It f~st from acr?ss VT P~rk.
Whoever planned its constructlOn and archItecture dId a
perfect job of fitting a buildin~ into a background. Blue
smoke from a log fire on the wIde hearth curls upward. As
you enter "a most plea:ant dining room you feel the warm
hospitality of mountam people. .'
No meal will ever be more pleasant than dmner m the
evening alongside one of the windows. As the shadows
of spruce finger darkly across VT Park, deer scamper out
of the thick trees and the gloom of the forest. They hurry
to catch the last caress of the day's sun as if they know
it gives them a golden sheen.
It is quite a floor show! .
There are cabins there, too, at Kmbab Lodge. You
will find them rustic and comfortabl: and reason­ably
priced. At Kaibab ~odge ~ou wIll be at 8,900
feet. The air has a snap to It, even m summer.
Five miles south from Kaibab Lodge you pass ~rom
the U. S. National Forest into the Grand Canyon Nabonal
Park on the North Rim of the Grand Cany?n. .
Observing eyes can immediately see a dlffere~ce m. the
vegetation. The Park area has been unused, a~d IS rapIdly
returning to a near-pristine condition. There IS ~ush grass
of a hundred varieties. Wildflowers embedded m a knee­deep
nap of ferns, grace the glens. All these are nea~ly a~­sent
on the forest outside. Here in the Park, the f?hage IS
full and you have the feeling of being one of the fIrst per­son~
in the area, even though an oiled and surfaced road
stretches away from your car. If you watch. closely you
might even see the rare dusky grouse. Certamly though,
you will see the deer, everywhere. .
Last fall, on a trip to the North RIm of t?e Canyon, my
car turned the bend in the road. On one :lde~ the ground
dropped away to a deep gully, on the other It clImbed steep­ly
to a ridge. My companion saw a group of does ?p on
the hill, and called for me to stop. We got out and cllIDbed
the ridge. The does filed off slowly, and suddenly on the
skyline a buck rose out of the brush whe~e he ?ad been bed­ding
down. He was a magnificent ammal m ~ull antle:.
His new blue-gray fall coat glistened metallIcally. HIS
muscular body rippled with fat as he trotted off across the
skyline. . . G d
On the North Rim, you'll find the magmflcent ra?
Canyon Lodge, built on the very edge of the Canyon, Wlth
AruZONA HIGHWAYS
CHARLES C. NIEHUIS
Kaibab Lodge is picturesque haven in woods and meadow. Jacob Lake Inn is travel center of Highway 89.
wonderful views from dining room, balcony and cabins.
The Utah Parks Company operates this concession, togeth­er
with a cafeteria, giving perfect service at modest prices.
A stay at Grand Canyon Lodge is in itself one of the high­lights
of a trip to the Kaibab and the North Rim.
The North Rim of the Grand Canyon is set apart from
the South Rim by a thirteen-mile wide, mile-deep gorge.
And there is more of a difference than that. The North
Rim has a native charm, is more isolated, less crowded.
Jacob Lake Inn on the Kaibab is open the year long.
Kaibab Lodge and Grand Canyon Lodge open to accommo­date
tourists in late May-Memorial Day this year for the
hotel-and Kaibab Lodge will open as soon as the snow
has been cleared from the roads and they are passable
Kaibab Mountain is high. You will see last year's snow
"banks in late June. In fact they have a unique way of
celebrating the Fourth of July at Kaibab Lodge. In prep­aration
for the holiday they go deep into the forest and
obtain enough snow from last winter's fall to make home­made
ice cream, which is served on that eventful day!
There are many unusual side trips to be made from
the tourist centers on the Kaibab. Some are easy to do­in
a car. Others are only for the very hardy adventur­ers
to do on foot or horseback.
Take the trip off the East Rim in North Canyon. It's
a tough, long climb on foot. It even takes a good, strong
horse to make the trip without giving out. There is a trout
stream down in North Canyon, not very much of it though,
because the stream is small and short. It gushes forth
from a spring and sinks into the sand after only a few
miles.
The trip into Thunder River is only for the very strong
and hardy fishermen and explorers. Thunder River is
down off the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. To get
there you go out on Little Saddle Trail, then ... but a com­plete
description of the trip is a story in itself. Don't at­tempt
to do it without horses and a guide, and a qualified
guide at that. They have been into Thunder River many
times, alone and with fishing and adventuring people.
The trip to Thunder River affords excellent trout fish-ing
in a setting of incomparable beauty.
Kaibab Mountain has a greater influx of visitors in the
fall than in the summer. These people come during the
deer hunting season. The finest Rocky Mountain Mule
Deer trophies come from the Kaibab and it is world-famous
for its venison.
The annual hunt brings more than two thousand hunt­ers
into the area. Jacob Lake Inn, Kaibab Lodge, Big Sad­dle,
Moquitch, Pine Flat, Bee Springs, Quaking Aspen and
Parishawampitts camps will all be overflowing with hunt­ers
after prime venison.
A sojourn to the Kaibab will be an experience you'll
file away in your memory, especially if you take a few
side trips such as the ones to: The East Rim overlooking
House Rock Valley, Cape Royall, Point Sublime, Crazy
Jug Point, Castle Canyon ...
The one into Castle Canyon for instance-there is one
to excite even the most sophisticated. At Castle Rock you
will see old, old corrals, watering troughs made of hol­lowed-
out logs, and one of the finest springs of water you
could find anywhere. It comes out from under a huge over­hang
of cliff rock, which makes it almost a cave. There,
'way back in under the rock, a spring of water develops.
Even the inexperienced eye can tell it has been used for
years and years: by Indians, by early explorers, by hunt­ers,
by cowboys, and now by vacationers.
If you're around the old timers on the Kaibab, like
Uncle Billy Crosby, you'll hear stories of the old West.
John D. Lee will live again at Lee's Ferry. Samuel Clev­enger
and his wife, Sarah, will take their wagon train up
through House Rock Valley on the old Emigrant Road and
the Navajo Trail, to be murdered near Rock Canyon. If
you listen closely you can hear the ghost hounds of 01' Jim­my
Owens, running a lion's trail, or, hear the hilarious
yarn about the time Buffalo Jones, Jimmy Owens and
Uncle Dee Wooley brought buffalo to House Rock Valley.
You are literally as well as figuratively out of this
world when you get acquainted with the pleasures, the
people and the history of Kaibab Mountain on the North
Rim of the Grand Canyon.
ARIZONA HIGHWAYS
1E=o=<
£
Old Main, first building to be constructed on the campus, remains the center of the students' classroom and social
activities. A wing built later houses Ashurst auditorium, where dances, plays and large student meetings are held.
-4r~~ in -& ~ CONTINUED FROM PAGE ONE
expansion and improvement program calling for an ex­penditure
of $2,000,000. This is in addition to the $350,-
000 science building now under construction and the mod­ern
steel football stadium completed last fall.
During those 50 years the institution at Flagstaff grew
academically from a normal school to a four-year teachers
college authorized to grant bachelor degrees in education.
Later a fifth year of study for a master's degree in educa­tion
was authorized. More recently the legislature changed
the name of the college from Arizona State Teachers Col­lege
to Arizona State College, and in September, 1946, the
Board of Regents granted the Flagstaff institution the au­thority
to grant liberal arts and science degrees as well as
the degrees in education.
For .half a century college students at Flagstaff have
enjoyed the unique advantages afforded by a "campus"
of approximately 10,000 square miles, encompassing a
wonderland of science and scientific resources unequaled
by any other similar area in the world.
This is no idle Brobdingnagian boast. In 1903, Terri­torial
Governor O. A. Brodie's annual report to the U. S.
Secretary of Interior lauded the climate and surrounding
scenery as making Flagstaff the ideal location for the
newly-established Northern Arizona Normal School. More
and more, down through the years, the college has stressed
the full utilization of the surrounding natural resources.
Outdoor classrooms and recreation areas regularly used by
students and faculty spread over more than a 100-mile
radius in almost every direction from Flagstaff.
Geology and botany students go into the field to ac­tually
see the things they read about in their text books.
They walk down into the incomparable Grand Canyon, a
mile deep and 13 miles wide; they explore enchanting Ha­vasu
Canyon, the semi-tropical home of the Havasupai In­dians,
with its blue ·green river and breath-taking water­falls;
they visit the Petrified Forest, lying about 100 miles
to the east of Flagstaff; they penetrate beautiful Oak Creek
Canyon and the Verde Valley to the south; they clamber in­to
the artic zone above timber line on the towering San
Francisco Peaks, rearing up to Arizona's highest elevaticn
just north of the college; and they study Sunset Crater, the
Ice Cave, and the lava beds, only a half hour easy motor
trip to the northeast.
Pre-forestry students and others interested in natural
resource management go into the vast Coconino National
Forest, observing forest rangers at work on problems rang­ing
from fire control to timber cruising, range manage­ment
to supervision of recreation areas. They visit the
nearby Southwestern Forest Experiment Station in Fort
Valley. They observe the administration of national parks
and national monuments, Indian reservations, soil conser­vation
projects, game preserves, and fish hatcheries. They
see sawmills and logging camps.
In addition to these classrooms provided by nature and
AluZONA HIGHWAYS
College administrati~n of~ices are in Gammage Library.
A sum of $50,000 lS bezng spent to improve building.
b~ government agencies and industry working together
WIt? nature, there are the facilities provided by the inter­n~
tI~nal recognized Lowell Observatory, on Mars Hill,
wIthm walking .distance from the college, and the Museum
pf Northern ArIZona, just north of Flagstaff.
Former member of the Lowell Observatory staff is Dr.
Arthur Adel, professor of physics and mathematics at the
Flags~aff college. His discovery of nitrous oxide in the
earth s atmosphere was recently confirmed by Belgian
and British scientists.
I~ is interesting that students of art and home eco­nomICS
make good use of the displays on exhibit at the
Museum of Northern Arizona. The home economics stu­dents
study fabrics and designs used by the prehistoric as
well as t?e present day southwestern Indians. Art stu­~
ents takin~ ceramics find much of value to them in study­mg
the IndIan pottery displays. Science students are the
:;:ost freq~ent visitors at the museum, drawn by the splen-d
geologIcal and archaeological displays.
of At ~he. colle~e itself, students have an attractive choice
studies In whIch to concentrate their efforts. There are
:~ong .departments offering a full range of Courses in art,
I UcatlOn and psychology, English, commerce modern
. an~ages, health and physical education hom: econom-
ICS , Pm d~ strI. a I arts, mUSI.C, SC.I ence, and so'c ial studies.
h reSIdent Lacey A. Eastburn stresses that students
s ould have a broad general education during the first
Campus plant is de­signed
for comfort and
service for students dur­ing
year. ASC at Flag­staff
prides itself on
democratic and infor­mal
life of stuaents.
College offers a com­plete
four-year course.
ARIZONA HIGHWAYS JULY, 1949
ASC students at Flagstaff take field trips into forest.
two years of college, with the last two years used for spe­cialization.
This he feels makes for the development of
a well-rounded personality and a good citizen.
As a part of this program to develop its young people
into competent, well-rounded adults, physical develop­ment
is taken into account. Healthy, outdoor recreation
is stressed in several ways.
In addition to health and physical education classes
that carry on their activities outdoors as much as possihle,
there are many college supervised trips, picnics and other
outings scheduled for the weekends. Classes and club or­ganizations
add to these opportunities for outdoor recrea­tion.
One of the oldest organizations on the campus is the
Hiking Club, and it usually has the largest membership.
Weekend hikes to nearby points of interest are taken
throughout the year. In the spring, when the hikers are
seasoned, trips are lengthened. At least once, sometimes
twice, the club schedules a hike to the bottom of Grand
Canyon. The final hike in the spring is a three to four
day outing, into Havasu Canyon or to Rainbow Natural
Bridge. The hikers master camp cooking, carry their own
food and bedding. One or more faculty members accom­pany
them on each jaunt.
The Ski Jacks organized more recently. Members are
ski enthusiasts. After classes in the afternoons and on
Hiking class of college ex plores famous Betatakin rum.
A weather station on mountain zs a source of interest.
Saturdays and Sundays the club membership can be
found swooping down the ski courses of the Arizona Sno
Bowl during the winter sports season. This ski area is only
15 miles from the college, high on the slopes of the San
Francisco Peaks. Skiing is taught to beginners by Aaron
McCreary, head of the health and physical education de­partment
and sponsor of the Ski Jacks. Members partici­pate
in the many ski meets held at the bowl, and a varsity
team competes in intercollegiate meets at Flagstaff and
in neighboring states.
The summer session at the college, which opens each
year early in June, offers many college supervised motor
trips and outings. At a nominal cost students may travel
by bus to Grand Canyon, Oak Creek Canyon, Walnut Can­yon
Cliff Dwellings, Sunset Crater, Meteor Crater, Petri­fied
Forest and the Painted Desert, the Hopi Indian vil ­lages,
the Navajo Indian reservation, and many other
places of interest. These are organized trips sponsored by
the college.
The summer sessions are made particularly worth­while
for teachers wanting to return to college for profes­sional
improvement courses and to meet certification re­quirements.
Nationally known educators are brought to
the campus to conduct classes and workshop type of in­struction
in various teaching fields.
This summer the college offers a session of two five-
Field to bottom of Grand Canyon
Geology class learns about volcanic action near college.
week periods, the second starting in July. Students may
profitably enroll in either or both of the five-week terms.
Also, the curriculum is arranged so high school graduates
may obtain first semester freshmen courses. Many of the
regular year students, particularly the G. I. students, con­tiilUe
on at the campus and they too must be offered courses
to fit their needs.
There are dormitory facilities for men and women
students. In the summer, one dormitory is usually set
aside for married couples without children. For married
couples with children there are modern cottages and apart­ments.
However, lodging facilities are limited, and reser­vation
of rooms, cottages or apartments should be made
in advance of registration. Since many of the married
G. I. students continue in college throughout the year,
cottages and apartments are especially limited in the sum­mer
sessions.
Going to college at Flagstaff is remarkably reasonable.
During summer students pay $25 registration fee for each
five-week term. For each of the two terms there is a
~tudent activity fee of $1.50, library fee of $1 .00, and med­Ical
fee of $1.00. The $5 .00 breakage deposit is returned,
less cost for any breakage.
Dormitory room and board cost $62.50 for five weeks,
when there are two students to a room, $75 when one to a
room. For board only, the cost is $50 for five weeks.
Botony students llse Oak Creek Canyon for a classroom.
Pre-forestry students gwen pointers at lumber plant.
One-room cottages are $25 for five weeks, with gas for
cooking and water heating, lights, and water furnished.
Two-room cottages with individual baths are $37.50 for
fiv~ weeks, gas, :water and lights furnished. Students buy
theIr own fuel 011 for heaters. The heaters are furnished.
There is no non-resident fee in the summer.
In regular college year, minimum expense for two se­mesters,
including fees, books and supplies is estimated at
$540.25. Activity and registration fees are $24 for a se­mester,
library fee $2.00 a semester, medical fee $3.00 a
semester, series fee $1.00 a semester, mimeographing fee
$1.00 a semester. Books and supplies will approximate
$30 a semester, and course fees and miscellaneous are fig­ured
at $3.50 a semester. Double these amounts for a full
year. Board and room for 18 weeks semesters are $211.50,
and $199.75 for 17 weeks semester. Cost for a year is
figured at $411.25.
Cottages during regular year rent at $17.50 a calendar
month for one-room and $27.50 for two-room and bath.
In addition to dormitories and cottages, the college has
80 two-room and bath apartments for married G.I.'s.
In summer these G. I. apartments rent for $42.50 for
five weeks, with gas for heating, cooking, and water heat­ers,
as well as lights and water, furnished.
During the regular year these apartments rent for $35
a calendar month.
Skiing at Arizona Sno Bowl is popular college activity.
SLIDES:
· . . Is it possible to purchase kodachrome slide
pictures of cactus flowers, birds, trees, scenery
or other attractive things found in Arizona,
similar to the pictures which appear in your
magazine ARIZONA HIGHWAYS?
I took some on a recent trip to your state,
but wish now that I had taken many more,
and would appreciate knowing if there might
be any for sale, which could be used on a pro­jector
for 828 film . . .
Mrs. Walter C. Flower
Maplewood, New Jersey
• We have had many requests from readers
all over the world wishing to purchase 35 mm
slide reproductions of photographs appearing in
ARIZONA HIGHWAYS. We have not had slides
available for this purpose. Most of the original
transparencies used in ARIZONA HIGHWAYS are
4x5 or larger.
We hope this summer, however, to have
slides for projection purposes made from all
photographs appearing each month in the maga­zine.
We also hope to have several series of
slides produced under selected titles from out­standin£
photographs published in back issues.
These slides, mounted for projection use, will
be made from our original transparencies and
we feel they will be very attractive. We hope
to announce "COLOR CLASSICS FROM ARIZONA
HIGHWAYS" shortly.
CIRCULATION:
· . . I am employed as bookkeeper and ac­countant
for the Ford Motor Company here,
and read the article you wrote on "Adventure
in Publishing," in the May issue of Ford Times.
I was amazed at the outstanding circulation of
your magazine and at the revenue from sub­scribers
living in other states.
Yours is a magazine to make one proud of
having lived in such a grand state.
Mrs. E. D. Troxell
Sterling City, Texas
• For a modest "country" journal we do get
around. Members of the family of ARIZONA
HIGHWAYS live in every state in the Union and
fifty-two foreign countries.
With neither funds nor other means of pro­motion,
our reader list has grown because of
the interest and word-of-mouth advertising of
our subscribers, to whom we are very grateful.
GIANTS ON EARTH:
· . . I was very interested in the article on
Sunset Crater. Having seen this crater and a
number of other similar eruptions from New
Mexico to the Mojave Desert in California, all
of about the game age, I assayed their age at
about 1,000 to 1,ZOO years long before I saw
either Sunset Crater or the Meteor Crater.
It is my opinion that all this volcanic activity
of equal age was set off by the fall of the
Winslow Meteor. The pine trees caught in the
Sunset lava flow and others, found charred in
pueblos within 500 miles of Winslow, accu­rately
date the fall and subsequent eruptions
at 885 AD, with only a few years leeway either
side.
Too little is done in collecting and integrat-
"OLD LoG FENCE" By ESTHER HENDERSON. This photograph was
taken with a 5x7 Eastman View camera, Goerz Dogmar 8Yz inch lens,
exposure fZZ at Yz second, on Kodachrome. The scene is on the road
to San Francisco Peaks, between Flagstaff Gnd Arizona Sno Bowl;
the time October, 1947. This photograph explains why Esther Hen­derson
is one of the West's outstanding photographers: her ability to
portray the simplest of subjects in a way to give them great beauty
and artistic merit. To her the old log fence is both romantic and
beautiful and she portrays it that way in her photograph. The sim­plest
of subjects many times make the memorable photographs.
ing data known over wide ranges of time and
space. I am sure many other interesting facts
about the great desert are lost because nobody
assembles them. To give a few instances: sev­eral
years ago a couple of skeletons were dug
up by an old lady near the Cactus Forest south
of Florence. From the description one was a
negro, age estimated by competent people, at
least 500 years. I found a shaped flint as used
in Spanish handguns of the time, less than one
mile from where the skeletons were found.
Evidence that one of the Spanish expeditions
passed through there and evidently lost two
men by death, one a negro, and buried them
there.
A young mining engineer, to whom I gave
a lift, told me about an interesting find he
had made in the mountains north of the Super·
stitions: a fossilized imprint of a human foot
ZZ inches long, being proof that a) giants were
on the Earth once, and b) the existence of man
here at that geologic age.
Frederick G. Hehr,
Santa Monica, Calif.
• Our battered old desert is a calendar of
Earth and things, includi1'!g man, that lived on
Earth. Many scientific discoveries are yet to
be made.
HANS JAENISCH:
. . . The water colors and drawings of Hans
Jaenisch in your May magazine pleased me
very much. Would you please give me his ad­dress?
I hope to be able to purchase several for
my collection.
Julian Stouhitt,
Yonkers, N. Y.
• Many of our readers expressed great in­terest
in the works of the artist, Hans Jaenisch,
who was the subject of an article in April issue
by Paul Lutzeier entitled: "Prisoner in Para­dise."
The artist's address is: Halmstr. 12,
Charlottenburg, British Sector, Berlin, Ger­many
. We understand a number of his West­ern
sketches and water colors are available and
we further understand he will gladly exchange
them for CARE packages. The artist will be
glad to hear from anyone interested.
IN KOREA:
. . . For many years we enjoyed AruZONA
HIGHWAYS in Phoenix, but the pleasure your
colorful magazine has brought to us in Korea
and now in Japan, is tenfold.
One young Korean boy studied every copy I
until he knew more of Arizona than most na­tives
do. If the time ever comes when he can I
come to America, Arizona will have one citi-zen
that will know the State from border to
border.
Here in Japan the magazine goes the rounds,
as we have friends from all parts of the states,
many have decided that upon their return, Ari­zona
is one state they must see.
Capt. and Mrs. M. L. Streeter,
Miss Sally Streeter,
Tokyo, Japan
• It makes us very proud to know AruZONA
HIGHWAYS is so welcome in distant places.
ARIZONA STARS
The mesa stars are friendly folk .
When spent by heat
They lean across their windowsills
To breathe the scents the nightwind spills,
And watch the scene spread out below,
As women worn
By daily toil find rest and know
A city street.
Laura Janet Larson
CANYON DAYBREAK
Time seeps through the silence
as morning's gentle glory
casts blue shadows
from the pinnacles ....
The flush of first green
lies close upon the mesas.
A rose awareness
mists the canyon walls
as the patient power of the waters
chants from the depths
and the echoes murmur
their responsive litany . ...
Lorraine Babbitt
THE OLD PROSPECTOR
They call him just a desert rat.
His skin is tanned like leather.
He's lived so long in wind and rain,
His face is full of weather.
Thelma Ireland
RECEPTION FOR SUMMER
While the
hills skipped like young
rams for the new summer
the sun slashed the clouds with golden
sabres.
Adelaide Coker
BOTTLED FRAGRANCE
I have found the perfume of lily and rose;
Pink clover and bluegrass the connoisseur
knows;
Exotic fragrance that hinted of musk;
And strange-named concoctions like Passion at
Dusk.
But I have longed for and hunted in vain
The scent ... of the desert after rain.
Ora Lee Pa~thesius
DESERT BURRO
He drags the shackles
Of the unrelenting sun
and turns his back
He staggers under the weight of stars
Pinioning darkness
and turns his eyes
He hears the crescendo of silence
Which mounts descending night
and turns his head
He knows the presage of vultures,
The funneling flight . . .
and turns to die.
Frances X. Johnson
BACK COVER-"ENCHANTED MEADOW" By ALLEN C. REED. This is one of many enticing and changeable scenes you see as you wander up Syca­more
Canyon trail. This trail takes you beneath cool shade trees along the stream, through little, grassy, flower-strewn meadows amply sprinkled
with butterflies. It loses itself for a moment among pastel colored boulders in the old stream bed where you marvel at delicate shades of lavenders,
greens, and pinks, of smooth, time-worn stones the size of your head. It takes you through cactus beds and a patch or two of thorn bushes. It
will have you with your shoes in your hands, up to your knees in the creek where steep cliffs force a crossing. Camera data: Crown Graphic,
4x5, Ektar lens, fZZ at Yz second. A scene such as this is heavy with the touch of Summer. The leaves of Autumn will turn the scene to gold.