Verde Valley

BACK COUNTRY

The surfaced roads go on and on and then they stop. Gravel roads take up where the surfaced roads end and they, too, go on and on. Finally there are only wagon tracks or aimless trails. When you can't go any further, just look around: you are in the back country.

It is always a pleasure to get into hidden places, harassed fugitives from the maddening throng. You are far from the traffic, the noise, the hurry of more crowded areas. Living is at slower pace, a welcome change in the life most of us poor mortals, by plan or by chance, live.

Our guide to some interesting places in the back country this issue is writer-photographer-artist Allen Reed, a free-lance contributor to this and other publications who finds the further he has to go and the harder he has to work, the better he enjoys the assignment. Witness: a long boat trip down the Verde, where we have not been before. Result: an article with pictures of the Verde entitled "Verde Valley." Witness: Marble Canyon damsite. Result: an interesting account of a reclamation crew doing preliminary studies on what may be some day the site for Marble Canyon dam. Witness: Trek for gold. Result: a group of good companions have the time of their lives on a hike.

Our art feature this month deals with the work of Walter Bohl. We consider him an Arizonan by virtue of the fact that for a number of years he has spent his winters in the heart of the Arizona desert study-ing the habits of such fascinating desert dwellers as quail, doves, road-runners and other birds and animals. We think he does a most com-petent job in bringing their secrets to us, portraying their habitat.

Newcomers to the Southwest sooner or later get acquainted with and interested in Mexican cooking. Personally, we love it and love it hot. The hotter the better. Pour in the chili and pile on the hot sauce. When the fork or spoon starts to dissolve, we are happy. But we will admit our choice in Mexican cooking is not for the uninitiated. A couple of weeks ago we had friends from the East to dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant where we ordered our favorite dishes prepared ac-cording to our taste. The first bite brought tears to the eyes of our guests. The second induced severe gasping and choking sounds. The third, symptoms of apoplexy and hyperpyrexia (high fever). There was no fourth bite: the rest of their dinner consisted of ice cubes and colder water. So maybe it will be better if you let Vivien Keatley tell you about cooking with a Mexican accent and follow her advice about the cautious use of chili. And incidentally, if you would like more recipes of this nature, may we refer you to Erna Fergusson's instructive "Mexican Cookbook," which you can get at the University of New Mexico Press, Albuquerque, N. M., for $2.00. Heap of good cooking for a small price.-R. C.

ARIZONA HIGHWAYS TREK FOR GOLD

Only twenty-four hours ago we had all been total strangers, completely oblivious of each others existence. Now we were twelve companions, partners with a share and share alike pact, deep in the badlands of Arizona's wild and mysterious Superstition Mountains on a forty-eight hour quest for the fabulous "Lost Dutchman" gold mine. We were a heterogeneous group, each one of us by chance of a different erent nationality and each from a different walk of life. Our get-to-gether was a spontaneous thing. A news item in the press telling of a trek into the Superstitions had served to bring it about, deflecting us temporarily from regular and individual routine living to participate in a mutual and unique adventure. Forcing our way through brushy canyons clogged with tangled catclaw and cactus, climbing over boulders and ledges we made our way working as a team: a British cavalry colonel, an architect, a noted zoologist, an artist of the Russian ballet, a building contractor, a Catholic priest, a bar tender, a professor of chemistry, an importer from Iran, a college student, a Navy career man, and a writer. The same venture happens every year with a different and probably as interesting a group of personalities.

Behind this annual adventure is The Dons Club of Phoenix, an organization of energetic local citizens named after the colorful early Spanish settlers of the Southwest. Their purpose is dedicated to the high ideals of keeping alive the lore, legends and spirit of the old West completely on a non-profit, non-personal gains basis. The Dons Club throughout the years has become a catch-all for treasure maps and a virtual clearing house for information on the Superstition Mountains and the Lost Dutchman Mine.

Once each spring for seventeen years as the highlight of their numerous annual tours to Arizona places of interest, conducted gratis for the pleasure and enlightenment of both Arizona visitors and residents, there is a one-day trek to the foot of the Superstitions as far as an automobile can go. There the Dons play host to hundreds of guests at the base camp where fascinating exhibits, educational displays and fine entertainment, all pertaining to the West, are provided along with a splendid barbecue dinner. This is the only Dons trip of the year in which the guests share in the cost by purchase of tickets at a most nominal price. In this way by limiting ticket sales to around 1,200 the number of participants can be held to a proper balance. Each year at trek time a traditional expedition goes forth beyond the base camp, into the maze of the Superstitions for