EDITOR'S LETTER

If you think sand dunes are nothing but ... well, piles of sand, check out this month's portfolio. See page 26.

THE FIRST ALBUM I ever owned was Sweet Baby James by James Taylor. I was 7 years old, the record was vinyl, and I played it at least a thousand times on my parents' stereo, which was just slightly smaller than the living room sofa. I loved that album, and no doubt thought I'd have it forever, but somewhere along the line, it disappeared. Nevertheless, I still listen to J.T., especially this time of year.

Something in the Way She Moves and Sweet Potato Pie are my favorites, but Walking Man “the frost is on the pumpkin, and the hay is in the barn” was written for October. It's a song about the coming of winter and the fall of the year. This month's cover story follows the same theme.

For those of you in Massachusetts, Vermont and New Hampshire, all you have to do is look out the kitchen window to get a spectacular dose of fall color. Here in Arizona, it takes a little more effort, but it's worth it. Indeed, the colors in this neck of the woods are every bit as impressive as those in New England. Of course, you have to know how to find them, and that's where we come in.

In all, we'll tell you about 15 places to see aspens, oaks, maples and more. Our story touches all four corners of the state, and is divided into three categories: nature walks, hard-core hikes and scenic drives. Garland Prairie Road near Williams is among the latter. It's one of the best road trips in Arizona, and, like all of the drives in this issue, it can be done in a Honda Accord. This drive, which runs parallel to an overland route once used by Indians, trappers and explorers, includes a detour to White Horse Lake, where the highlight is a dense stand of quaking aspens. It's beautiful.

The same is true of the nature trails, especially the Barbershop Trail. This easy stroll, which is located on the Mogollon Rim north of Strawberry, meanders through a stretch of open forests and shallow canyons, all of which are saturated with the reds and yellows of autumn. It's an effortless way to see fall color. If you prefer a little more exercise on your date with Mother Nature, we have that, too. The Kachina Trail, the Sterling PassTrail, the Gobbler Point Trail... they're all impressive. And so is Ed Curry, who can't even think about hiking in October.

That's because October is harvest time in the chile business, and when it comes to chiles, Ed is king. Although he grows some chiles for eating, his focus is producing seeds, and he's prolific. According to a study by the University of Arizona, Ed's company supplies almost all of the seeds for the green chile business in the United States. “We're about 90 percent,” he says. Even New Mexico, which is renowned for its chiles, gets most of its seeds from Ed. In It's Chile Down There, you'll learn more about Ed Curry and Southern Arizona's impressive chile industry.

Not far from Ed's farm is Bisbee. Unlike Ed, Bisbee isn't much of a secret. The Copper Queen Hotel, Brewery Gulch, the mine that put the town on the map... they've all been well-publicized. Especially in this magazine. Still, there's more to this historic city than the landmarks. In fact, beyond the obvious, it's full of secrets, and the best way to discover them is on foot.

With that in mind, we sent writer Gregory McNamee on a walking tour of Bisbee. As he writes in Walk This Way: “Unlike the newer, more spread-out cities in Arizona, Bisbee is hemmed in by rugged mountains and steep canyons that confine it to a walkable scale. Thanks to geography, the heart of Bisbee can be covered in a pleasant hour.” And you never know what you might find along the way. There are several unique restaurants, gift shops and the One Book Bookstore - literally, it carries only one book. There are other bookstores, too, as well as a few antiques outlets that draw collectors from all over the country. As you'll see in our story, Bisbee is the place to go for hidden treasures. Or, better yet, lost treasures, like Sweet Baby James by James Taylor - Robert Stieve