Some drives — the ones with long, straight stretches of smooth asphalt — are good to do solo. On those routes, it’s easy to take in the scenery and keep an eye on what’s ahead. No twists and turns. No sheer drop-offs. Just you and the road.
Sometime in the 1800s, the story goes, a trapper and scout by the name of Chevelon found himself at a creek that ran through a narrow canyon on present-day Arizona’s Mogollon Rim. He also found some roots that looked tasty. And maybe they were, but they also were poisonous. So he died. Right there on the bank of the creek.
People have been traveling across Northern Arizona for thousands of years. First they journeyed on foot, then by covered wagon, next by train and eventually via a historic two-lane road. But when you’re speeding down one of the lanes of Interstate 40, it’s easy to skip past the region’s history and take in only as much as you can glimpse at 70 mph. That’s when it’s time for a much-needed detour on the Spring Valley Loop.
The North Rim of Grand Canyon National Park has a short season, but there’s another reason it sees about as much vehicle traffic in an average year as the South Rim sees in an average month. Actually, there are 130 reasons. That’s the difference, in miles, between North Rim and South Rim driving distance from Flagstaff. It’s hard to believe — until you look at a road map. There are no shortcuts to the North Rim. No interstates. Just a long trip up U.S. routes 89 and 89A, across Navajo Bridge, past the Vermilion Cliffs and down State Route 67.
Don’t let the prosaic name fool you: Control Road north of Payson is a lovely historical route that runs below the Mogollon Rim — the dramatic ridge that defines the southern edge of the Colorado Plateau. Beginning near Pine, the meandering road rises and dips in and out of ponderosa pine forest for 23.4 miles, crossing seasonal streams and the East Verde River.
We get lucky. The dining room at Lynx Lake Café is small, and we wait to get a table on this beautiful day. Our apologetic server settles us at a back table just as the best table in the place opens up. “Can we sit there?” we ask.
And just like that, we have a picture-perfect view of the 55-acre lake and its paddle-boaters and kayakers. Just out the window, hummingbirds fuel up for their journey south. Below us, a steady stream of walkers amble along the lakeside trail.
Some of Arizona’s roads are deceptively named. Take Rural Road in the Phoenix area, for example. If you’ve driven it in the past half-century or so, you know there’s no longer anything rural about it. But Pronghorn Drive isn’t one of those roads. It’s a scenic 10-mile loop at Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge in Southern Arizona, and it offers a chance to see its namesake ungulates, plus rare birds, rolling grasslands and an iconic peak.
Listen, birds, these signs cost money. So roost awhile, but don’t get funny.
Desert ironwoods aren’t as iconic as saguaros, but the trees — officially known as Olneya tesota — are the unsung heroes of much of the Sonoran Desert. They can live for centuries in the scorching heat, they provide valuable shade for young saguaros and other desert flora, and their wood is among the hardest and densest in the world — hence the name.
The average 5-year-old, it’s been said, asks about 400 questions per day. But you can double that number by taking your child up Harquahala Mountain. I learn this when my son, Westley, comes along on my Arizona Highways assignment. As we tackle this rugged, challenging 10.5-mile drive, I hear queries that include: “How much farther?” “Is it always going to be this bumpy?” and “What if we get a flat tire?”
