TAKING THE OFF-RAMP

All Creatures Welcome

In October 17, a special congregation makes its way to St. Philip's in the Hills Episcopal Church in Tucson. The four-legged, no-legged, whisker-bearing, tailwagging nontaxpaying citizens of the city have come for their rightful blessing.

For more than a quarter-century, St. Philip's has hosted the Blessing of the Animals, welcoming all pets and their owners to the service under the mesquites in the church garden.

A Look of Its Own

"Out here in the great spaces obvious symmetry would claim too much, I find, the too obvious wearies the eye too soon, stultifies imagination... [The] Arizona character seems to cry out for a spaceloving architecture of its own. The straight line and flat plane, sun-lit, must come here - of all places - but they should become the dotted lines, the broad, low, extended plane textured because in all this astounding desert there is not one hard undotted line to be seen."

Things That Go Bump in the Night in Globe

Perched on a hillside overlooking Globe, the Noftsger Hill Inn served as the town's school from 1907 to 1981. Today guests stay in the former classrooms, which offer spacious quarters with sitting areas and fireplaces. Former cloakrooms serve as private baths. The classrooms' original chalkboards still decorate the walls.

Rosalie Ayala, who has owned the inn with her husband, Dom, since early 2001, says neighborhood kids warn her of teachers buried in the basement. Come Halloween, kids avoid her doorstep for fear of ghosts. A local "ghost-catching" service even paid a visit to the inn to look for paranormal activity. Although the ghost-busters haven't pursued their findings, photographers reportedly have caught ghostlike orbs from the inn on film.

Information: (928) 425-2260; toll-free (877) 780-2479; www.noftsgerhillinn.com.

General Admiration

Inquiring minds might ask why Arizona has so many map points named for a man who was never president, never governor and reportedly never even lived in the state. McDowell Road in Phoenix, Mount McDowell, McDowell Peak, McDowell Mountains and Fort McDowell are all said to be named after Civil War Gen. Irvin McDowell (1818-1885), whose military career almost foundered twice at Bull Run.

After being blamed in part for the second disaster at Bull Run, McDowell requested a court of inquiry and was apparently cleared of culpability. But if the general was fully exonerated, the curious might ask, why was McDowell then given the Pacific Coast command, which included Arizona, in July 1864 a post as far removed as geographically possible from the major action of the Civil War?

Snakes, spiders and turtles join the more predictable dogs, cats and hamsters. Even a bowl of water has been presented at a blessing. The small boy who carried the bowl told the priest, "If you bless it, I promise I will put my fish in it."

Information: (520) 299-6421; Respected author of Arizona Place Names, Will C. Barnes, notes the number of sites honoring the seemingly banished, if not disgraced, general— but not the questions surrounding why someone in the state held him in such high esteem.

The mystery remains, but maybe it is just on "general principles" that his name lingers.

A Mineral-rich Museum

Tucked away on the lower level of the Flandrau Science Center on the University of Arizona campus in Tucson is the fascinating Mineral Museum. From brilliant-yellow sulfur to blue azurite (shown above), more than 2,000 different mineral specimens are on display. Feel the difference between aa lava and pahoehoe lava, rub a meteorite from Canyon Diablo, see a glittering display of pyrite, known as fool's gold, or marvel at minerals from around the world. Part of the mineral collection dates to 1892 when it was part of the Territorial Museum. The Mineral Museum itself dates from 1919. Spend some time wandering and wondering in this special museum. Information: (520) 621-4227; www geo.arizona.edu/minmus.

Stop, Rest and Measure

A spirited debate surrounds the question of just which town and state can claim America's smallest church. Communities from Maine to Washington and from Texas to Georgia may claim to have the smallest church in the country. Somehow, though, it seems, well, unseemly, to argue the issue. Suffice it to say that Arizona's smallest church sits at the edge of a farm field at the end of a dirt road about 10 miles north of Yuma off U.S. Route 95. A farm owner built the little white structure in honor of his wife. "Stop, rest and worship," a modest sign says to visitors. No one would say the little church is Arizona's grandest attraction. The depth of devotion displayed in such a simple monument, though, reminds travelers who venture off the interstates-good things still come in very small packages. Information: www.roadsideamer ica.com/set/church.html.

Question of the Month

Does the jumping cholla cactus really jump?

No, it doesn't actually jump, although it can seem that way when someone unwittingly brushes against the jointed chain-fruit cholla, breaking off a piece. By the time the victim feels the points of the sharp spines, the rest of the plant can be a short distance away, prompting the assumption that the cactus jumped. The barbed spines help the cholla reproduce by allowing the joints or segments to catch rides to new places where they can sprout.

TALK OF THE TERRITORY

On August 2, 1890, Flagstaff's Arizona Champion newspaper published a list of Territorial colloquialisms. Some samples:

Nemesis. Carries a .22caliber revolver and hopes for a chance to do daring deeds. Soon recovers.

Burro. Has a countenance of wisdom, ears of expression and a voice of sonorous melody. Is beloved by the Hassayamper.