EVOLUTION OF THE COW TRAIL

EVOLUTIO COW

EDITOR'S NOTE: Colonel John L. Gay, the author of the following article, first visited Phoenix in 1885. During 1887-8 Colonel Gay was employed as a railway postal clerk in the U. S. Postal Service. Afterwards he drifted from the United States and for more than thirty years had his headquarters at San Juan, Puerto Rico, where he filled different positions in the government service, his last position being that of U. S. Attorney for Puerto Rico. The Colonel and Mrs. Gay returned to the United States some years ago and, after two and a half years of travel through every state in the union, finally selected the Salt River Valley as the most desirable place to have a permanent home. Colonel Gay was an officer in the World War.

HERE once were hoof-prints of the cow and horse now glide pneumatic tires over modern highways. The "dreams come true" in modern engineering bring into existence new scenes of beauty and wonders to those who would behold the mysteries in nature's workshop. What a short period of time-some thirty years has changed the trails of the cow pony and the covered wagon to oil surfaced and concrete roads over which the traveler now passes in comfort and safety to his destination. Through the courtesy of my good friend, Norman G. Wallace, Engineer on the staff of the Arizona Highway Department, I was permitted to accompany him upon one of his periodic trips of inspection and photographing of Arizona's travel-roads. Leaving the verdant valley of the Salt River at Phoenix in the early morning of May 28th, 1937, we journeyed eastward along Van Buren street-one of the Capital's main outlets through the towns of Tempe and Mesa. One's attention is here called to the "primping up" now being carried on in these localities. Along the main streets of the Capital may be noted the fine work being done in the planting of palms and other decorative trees and shrubs along these highways, new paint jobs, repairs to building, new homes, new tourist camps and trailer parks, doubtless in anticipation of a visit from the folks "back home" a visit which will surely be made in due time. On either side of the highway, in the vicinity of Tempe and Mesa, appear fields of fine grain and alfalfa-now ready for the farmer's scythe. Dotted here and there are beautiful groves of citrus trees and date palms, Arizona being one of the very few places in Continental America where the delicious fruit of the date palm may be grown. These interesting and valuable products speak volumes for the energy and foresight of the early pioneer who built the dams and canals that bring the fluid of life to the fertile soil of the valley lands. Journeying onward, soon thereafter we were greeted with the smiling face of "Father Sol," peeping over the peaks of Superstition Mountain some 20 miles away, seemingly saying "I too, am an early riser." Over a practically level road, our car soon landed us at the attractive spot-Apache Junction-where a brief stop was made for a cup of coffee and a bit of water for the ever thirsty radiator. At this place the lady who served us our morning's coffee remarked that "she was sure glad to be back in the land of sunshine and clear skies, and to leave behind the rain and cloudy weather of New England" where she had recently visited. With lifted cups we gave hearty approval to her words of wisdom. At Apache Junction Highway 88 leads to the left over the Apache Trail to Roosevelt Dam and thence along the valley of the Verde River, and from there into the Tonto Basin Country and along the rim of the Mogollon Range. Our objective leads us to the right cut over Highways 60-70, through a stretch of country commonly called "desert lands." But, instead of drifting sands and clouds of dust the usual concept of a desert -we find the landscape covered with grass, sage brush and many varieties of vegetation. Here and there appear the mesquite, palo verde, ironwood and greasewood, many of which are of a size to entitle them to be called trees. Also, one's attention will here be in-

JULY, 1937 N OF THE TRAIL ARIZONA HIGHWAYS BY COL. JOHN L. GAY

Invited to the many varieties of cacti growing along the highway, the giant Saguaro dominating the whole with its beautiful crown of white blossoms. Mr. and Mrs. Tourista, stop your behemoth for a spell, alight therefrom and take a few steps from the roadside where you will find many varieties of beautiful, though small flowers, growing among the grass and beneath the scrub-trees in this miscalled "desert-land." Even though there may have been no rain for many months, these little plants find life through the dews of night. Stop here for a time and ponder over the wondrous works of nature, in its first steps towards building a productive soil. Ask yourself as to the whys, and wherefores of these persistent efforts. Answer the question as your wisdom dictates-one "guess" is as good as another. From here, we glide along the base ofSuperstition Range wherein lie-so told in prose and verse-the fabulous rich "lost gold mines." Should you decide to seek your fortune among the rough and forbidding cliffs and canyons of this mountain range it would be wise to know in advance where next you may find water with which to replenish your canteen. Otherwise your relatives may be deprived of the privilege of erecting a tombstone over your remains.

Through a gap in this range, to the northward, we see in the distance beyond "Four Peaks," which, for a vast section of this part of Arizona,form the guiding hand for those who dare to wander from the "road home" of the modern engineer. Over a little rise there comes to view the village of Florence Junction. At this point Highway 80-89 turns the traveler southward toward Tucson some 84 miles away. Our car guides us east, continuing over 60-70.

From the very beginning of our trip one cannot help but notice the many improvements made in the roads by the Highway Department during recent months. Here, a new better bridge, there, a rather dangerous curve has been straightened out, further along, a cut is deepened, thus enabling the one at the wheel to see the approaching car a greater distance ahead. And, above all is the clearly evident improvement now being made in roadbed construction.

Soon after leaving Florence Junction, in the first chain of hills, we come to a sign which reads "Thompson's Arboretum." A short distance away-over to the right of the road, in hills almost barren of vegetation, lies a canyon wherein one may see and touch practically every known plant and tree to be found over a vast stretch of this western country. Wealth, and a love for nature's flowers and plant life caused a man to turn, for a time, away from the busy marts of the world and to lend a helping hand to his creator. Conceived by the late Col. William Boyce Thompson of New York, this garden spot is truly an oasis in the desert. A stately home of the natural color of the rocks from the nearby walls of the canyon stands at the head of the garden. Nearby are pools created in a manner to deface natural settings (Continued on Page 22)