Butterfield Stage Trail

California and others went to trap beavers on the Gila River.

The 500-man Mormon Battalion labored through the pass in 1846 and camped just outside Butterfield Pass before descending to the Gila River.

The discovery of gold in California set off the flood of prospectors and settlers known as fortyniners-many of whom came through the pass. That included the family of Royce Oatman, who passed this way in 1851. A few miles beyond the pass, the family was ambushed by Yavapai Indians, who killed the adults and most of the children, but held as captives two of the teen-agegirls. One of the girls was ransomed some years later, making national headlines.

In 1857, John Butterfield signed a six-year, $600,000-per-year contract with the federal government to run a stagecoach route from St. Louis to San Francisco, right through the same pass. His six-horse teams relied on stations every 50 miles and could make the 2,800-mile trip in 25 days, despite the constant threat of Indian raids, especially at Apache Pass in the Chiricahuas and Butterfield Pass in the Maricopas. The stages also had to get past a 40mile waterless stretch that ended at the Butterfield Pass. Stage tenders built a cistern justeast of the pass and hauled water up from the Gila River.

{back road adventure}

With the onset of the Civil War, the federal government abandoned the southerly Butterfield Stage route, and the pass lapsed into the silence of the wind in the saguaros.

Now, it offers an easy, halfday journey past ghosts and granite. The dirt road straggles northward along the base of the mountains for some 4.2 miles until it reaches a well-marked road junction, with a turn to the west leading up into the pass.

Today the road into the pass, which would endanger a passenger car, occasioned only two brief incidents of wheel-spinning in my two-wheel-drive, high-clearance vehicle. The road rises to the saddle in the heart of the pass, then drops back down on the other side of the mountains, 6.4 miles of rough travel. The road comes to a T-intersection at that point. A left turn leads past an old corral where another left, heading south for 1.4 miles, meets the paved Maricopa Road.

But for me, the high point of the drive was back in the heart of the pass, where I decided to park and scramble up the steep, granite-ribbed peak for an overview. A vigorous half-hour labor brought me to the top, with an expansive view in every direction. The peak's view would have given any raider a good half-day advance warning to prepare for an approaching stagecoach.

And I sat for a long time, staring out into the misty distance and listening to the secrets of the wind. Then I made my way carefully down through the rattle of ancient stones to my own time. AH WARNING: Back road travel can be hazardous if you are not prepared for the unexpected. Whether traveling in the desert or in the high country, be aware of weather and road conditions, and make sure you and your vehicle are in top shape. Carry plenty of water, and let someone know where you're going and when you plan to return. Odometer readings in the story may vary by vehicle. ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: Bureau of Land Management, Phoenix Field Office, (623) 580-5500.

Petroglyphs at Deer Valley Rock Art Center Send Messages From the Past

[BOTTOM] The meaning of many of the petroglyphs incised into the basaltic rocks at the center's Hedgpeth Hills site remains shrouded in mystery.

LONG AGO ON THE FRINGE of what would become a great desert metropolis, someone picked up a sharp rock and chipped away at a dark basalt boulder, creating a spiral design. Nearby, a bizarre image depicts face-to-face deer that appear to be "kissing." Then there's a human figure holding something, perhaps a child. Perhaps not. What were those ancient artists up to? Messages from the past don't come more intriguing than rock art left by Arizona's ancient Indians.

Though petroglyphs, drawings pecked into rocks, and pictographs, drawings painted onto rocks, abound in the state, finding them sometimes involves bushwhacking canyons and rappelling cliffs. Then there's the Deer Valley Rock Art Center in northwest Phoenix.

A museum, research facility and nature preserve operated by Arizona State University's anthropology department, the 47acre center protects the largest grouping of petroglyphs in the Phoenix area, and reaching them requires only an easy stroll on a quarter-mile trail-plus, having "a good eye.

Each year 16,000 people visit the center, and most want to know the same things: Who made the petroglyphs? How old are they? What do they mean? When hitting the trail to answer those questions, avoid midday because glaring sunlight washes out the petroglyphs, making them hard to see. The winter morning I went was cloudy but not wet-perfect for viewing. "There are more than 1,500 petroglyphs here, some created as long ago as 5,000 years,"