Of Wickenburg and Environs

THE ROUND UP CLUB BRANDS OUT WICKENBURG WAY HASSAYAMPA LEGEND

THERE'S A LEGEND CENTURIES BY THE EARLY SPANIARDS TOLD OF A SPARKLING STREAM THAT'L UNDER ARIZONA SKIES HASSADAMPA IS IT'S NAME AND THE TITLE TO ITS FAME IS A WONDROUS QUALITY KNOWN TODAY FROM SEA TO SEA THOSE WHO DRINK IS WATERS BRIC SED CAAN WHITE MAN, FOOR OR KNIG GIRLS OR WOMEN, BOYS OR MEN NEVER TELL THE TRUTH AGAIN

The Wishing Well

Here travelers on 60, 70 and 89 pause for a drink of Hassayampa river water...

WICKENBURG, ARIZONA, a sunshiny, friendly town on the banks of the Hassayampa, is in the northwestern part of Maricopa county, where the desert merges gracefully with the foothills. Its elevation is 2,070 feet above sea level; its population is 1200 or so. But you shouldn't approach Wickenburg with a statistical yardstick. Statistics are dull, and surely you will never find this charming place dull. Far from it.

Your historical approach to Wickenburg will find a stage-coach stop by some cottonwoods long ago in the early days of the territory. These stages went clankity-clank in clouds of dust between Prescott and Tucson. Other stages ram-bled on west to the Colorado for freight and passengers. There was water at Wickenburg and travelers had to stop there.

Near Wickenburg in 1871 one of these stage-coaches was ambushed by Mohave Indians and the passengers murdered. A monument today marks the spot. Henry Wickenburg, for whom the town was named, walks through its early history. It was he who found the bonanza mine, the Vulture, a few miles from the town. Altogether Wickenburg's history is a story of men and mines, of murder and massacre, of merriment and moonlight on the Hassayampa.

That unique civic organization, the Roundup Club of Wickenburg, has adopted as the 20th Century slogan of the town, a rather modest one: "Dude Ranch Capital of the World." You'll find, all lassoed, corraled and hog-tied, more community pride and civic enterprise per cowhand in the Roundup Club than in any club you've ever seen, but don't let that enthusiasm mislead you. Wickenburg is about as well qualified for the title, "Dude Ranch Capital of the World," as any place in the world and more than most. There are seven fine ranches, run by fine hosts and hostesses, in and about the town, all doing bangup business. There have been some pretty important folks in Wickenburg at those ranches, and they have carried the name and fame of the town all over the world. In a little tin shack on one of those ranches a writing-man from England by the name of J. B. Priestly wrote "Moonlight on the Desert," a rather good book for general reading.

Today when you're traveling west you almost can't keep from going through Wickenburg. Northsouth route, U. S. 89, goes smack through the town, and those big east-west routes, U. S. 60 and 70, practically pile up all over the curbing on the main street. Wickenburg is busy winter and summer, for there are many things to see and do around the town and its environs contain mines and deserts and other things of interest. Most of all, Wickenburg is a friendly town, a friendly western town, full of friendly western people. In a way it's kind of an old-fashioned town with folks saying hello on the street and over the back fences. It bustles along just enough but not too much. It's the kind of town that if you sprawl under a cottonwood along the Hassayampa all day just whittling, folks won't look down their noses and say you're lacking in git-up. ... R. C.