When you’re standing amid chollas and yuccas in the Arizona mining town of Oatman, it’s hard to fathom that you’re just a 14-mile drive from the cool water of the Colorado River. (It’s hard to fathom anything, really, other than: What are all these burros doing here?) But it’s true: Silver Creek Road, which leads from Oatman to Bullhead City, takes you from arid Mojave Desert to the banks of the Colorado, with plenty to see along the way.
Emerson had it right: “There are many things of which a wise man might wish to be ignorant.” And these days, the constant stream of information to your smartphone can make ignorance seem particularly blissful. Luckily, despite the phone companies’ best efforts, there still are swaths of Arizona where you can’t get a signal. And many of them happen to be especially beautiful, too. Agua Caliente Road, which offers Sonoran Desert panoramas and a bit of history, is one of those.
The O.K. Corral. The Bird Cage Theatre. Gunfight re-enactments. When it comes to Wild West history, Tombstone has plenty to offer, which is why the town of 1,500 or so permanent residents sees hundreds of thousands of visitors every year. Just outside “The Town Too Tough to Die,” though, is Middlemarch Road, a spectacularly scenic route through the Dragoon Mountains. And, as a bonus, the road has a history of its own.
By the first or second weekend in October, aspen stands on the San Francisco Peaks are golden and glorious. But the problem for people seeking to get their annual leaf-peeping fix is that popular spots high on the mountains can feel as congested as a shopping mall’s parking lot on Christmas Eve. If you want to enjoy one of the best fall color displays in Arizona without the crowds, skip Arizona Snowbowl and head to the north side of the Peaks, where the aspens are plentiful but the leaf-peepers are few and far between.
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.
