Up the Aravaipa

FEW words and a few pictures of a hidden little canyon, not too far from the beaten paths, in the very heart of southern Arizona's most glorious country. The Aravaipa is twentysix miles long, and from a half mile to thirtyfive feet in width. Aravaipa creek empties into the San Pedro, and along the twisting little stream are more than fifteen ranches. Here is the perfect climate, fit for oranges or apples, fit for poets and painters and folks with cameras. Canyon walls, a dreamy winding creek, sunshine flooding the canyon floor with waves of lightthat's the Aravaipa. Here there are desert and the mountains and miles of typical Arizona scenery.

The saguaro towers over the stream along which are sycamores and poplars... Here the agave and the ocotillo rub elbows with the cottonwood. Not as well-known as many Arizona canyons, the Aravaipa has a charm and personality all its own. The visitor in search of the hidden places will be rerewarded by a journey to the Aravaipa. The canyon is reached by taking the first road to the right after crossing the San Pedro river bridge north of Mammoth. To enter the most scenic area of the canyon you drive to the end of the road from Mammoth, a distance of about fifteen miles. You leave the road at a private ranch and ford the Aravaipa afoot. Miles of exploring there await you. In places the creek is pushed between high, narrow, black rock walls and at other places the canyon widens out in white, graceful beaches. The most beautiful and representative scenery of Aravaipa Canyon is to be found within a few miles of the end of the road.

The Aravaipa is rich in verdure. The willow, the poplar, the cottonwood and the sycamore live next door neighbors to such desert fellows as the Spanish bayonet, the mesquite, the scrub oak, the saguaro and the cholla. Where spring water seeps through the canyon walls there are to be found ferns and thick, rich grasses. There is fishing here and hunting in season, and around the region have risen legends of the feuds between the early settlers and tales of the days of the wars with the Indians. Here the Apache Kid was born and here today the Indians come to gather acorns. Here every rock, every twist of the creek has a tale to tell. The stream that never falters in the Aravaipa washes the feet of huge trees and brushes the bases of steep canyon walls. The Aravaipa has all the charm of the distant places, the attractive qualities of the newly-discovered... yet here men have written their sagas and spin their stories of other days.... R. C.