Destination: Back Country

As a photographer continually attempting to portray the scenic face of Arizona I am often asked, "How do you keep finding new pictures?" My answer is simple: "I take the back roads to the back country!" They are the qualified "guides" through Arizona's exciting back country, a virginal land which blends scenery and serenity with a spicy dash of history. Of course, some of my favorite guides (whom I will introduce to you later) are rather rough characters and might shake you up a little if you are not careful. While others, made of weaker stuff, can become real "softies" under the stress of a heavy rain. Then there are those that seem downright derelict in their duty as they wander whimsically about before finally leading you to your destination. But these shortcomings I have found easy to forgive for they are far outweighed by the pleasures of back country travel. This is why I continually forsake the smooth concrete of Arizona's great highways for the gravel, dirt, rocks and ruts of every kind of unhurried byway from a bladed road through a mountain forest to Jeep tracks along a desert wash. To me the Arizona Back Country (which I think of as beginning where the pavement ends) is something very special. It has many qualities which make it unique and unforgettable.

There are, of course, the tangible beauties of the land itself; rugged canyons, hidden forest meadows and lakes, unspoiled desert vistas These the eye can enjoy and the camera record. And I know of no comparable area anywhere that can provide either with a greater variety of impressive natural scenery. The intangible qualities are easier to experience than describe. But they are important in helping to create in the back country explorer a "feeling for the land." For example, after cruising along on one of our modernday rivers of concrete with its fast-moving current of traffic, one of the first things I notice after turning off onto a nonchalant little back country "tributary" is a sudden feeling of intimacy with the country. It is a feeling of being a participant in the scene rather than a remote and hurried spectator. I can stop on the slightest of whims to sniff the fragrance of a flower or study an unusual rock formation without the blaring of outraged horns announcing that I am hindering the dash of civilization. The inherent silence of the Back Country is another of its blessings. With scientists telling us that "sound pollution' will double every decade in many localities, it is comforting to know that much of Arizona, soundproofed by the insulation of distance, continues as a relaxing "quiet oasis." Here, the warble of a bird or liquid music of a lively stream does not have to compete with bustling factories or five o'clock traffic for the ears of its listeners.

There is another quality of the land which I feel strongly whenever entering the Back Country. It always seems a little like stepping into a time machine with the selector set to "Old West." It is surprising how much of the Old West flavor is still to be found.

BY DARWIN VAN CAMPEN

Photographs By The Author "To me the Arizona Back Country (which I think of as beginning where the pavement ends) is something very special for its many qualities which make it unique and unforgettable."

"Many of the postcard scenic attractions familiar to millions are different and more beautiful from the wagon road or Jeep trail viewpoints."

Even the humble back country roads, unlike the imperious highway which runs roughshod over the landscape, are reminiscent of the old pioneer trails as they dodged around trees and boulders or forded a creek out of respect for the dictates of the terrain. Many of these roads are actually remnants of the Old West Era, leading to ghost towns, deserted mines or old settlers' cabins. Remote cattle and sheep ranches, far removed from their nearest neighbors, are still to be found. And don't be a bit surprised if a real life cowboy "cuts you off at the pass" for a friendly greeting or offer of assistance if you should happen to need help. Because the western tradition of friendli-ness lives on in Back Country Arizona and seems to be very catching, even for brief visitors.

I remember, particularly, an incident that occurred several years ago along the Castle Hot Springs Road about fifteen miles north of where it leaves the pavement of U. S. 60-70 at Morristown.

The road and a small stream shared co-existence on the canyon floor, and their belief in "togetherness" made for wet going. At this unlikeliest of places I suddenly saw splashing toward me a long black limousine sporting New York plates and the most correctly liveried chauffeur I had ever seen. In the back seat was a very distinguished-looking elderly couple in highly fashionable Fifth Avenue attire. As they approached I saw the old gentleman lean forward and say something to his driver who thereupon began blowing his horn in the friendliest fashion. They all, chauffeur included, waved and smiled as they passed like happy kids from a school bus window. In their normal environment, of course, they wouldn't have thought of doing such a thing. But in that lonely little canyon they had, for a moment, shared a unique experience with the only other human being in the world who happened to be there. In that instant they had instinctively felt a strong sense of camaraderie which they had so warmly expressed. It is a feeling frequently shared by back road adventurers.

The old western song "Home On the Range" has long had cowboys singing of buffalo roaming, deer and antelope playing and skies being not cloudy all day. They are all still a part of the Arizona scene.

Buffalo roam in their vast preserve in House Rock Valley reached via a twenty-three mile back road from U.S. 89A about twenty miles east of Jacob Lake.

Deer play nearly everywhere (even in many desert areas) are frequently seen.

The finest antelope herd I have ever encountered was along the rather primitive and definitely rough road to the north rim of Sycamore Canyon. This was several miles south of where it leaves the well-maintained White Horse Lake Road from Williams on U.S. 66. The view it affords of the breathtaking, rugged expanse of Sycamore Canyon is well worth the ten jolting miles even if the antelope are "playing" somewhere else that day. Any frequent user of Arizona back roads is sure to go the song several better on the wildlife score.

One evening at dusk, for example, I was parked at Walker Lake, a small pond tucked away in the forest near the western slopes of the San Francisco Peaks. Glancing out my camper window I was amazed to see a huge bull elk stride confidently "There are, of course, many wildlife performers, from bears in the northlands to javelina in the desert, who make appearances on the back country stage for the enjoyment of back roads buffs."

past the truck and into the marshy fringe of the pond. He drank his fill, then suddenly appeared to drop out of sight. In a little while, like a genie out of a bottle, he rose up into view and returned in lordly fashion to the forest.

Next morning I followed his tracks to where he had so unexpectedly disappeared. A deep depression had been worn in the marshy ground. Apparently he laid down in the same spot every night, wallowing in the mud to rid himself of any fleas or other fellow travelers he had collected during the day.

On another occasion, shortly after sunup, I was bouncing along the little-traveled nine mile road to Grand Falls, well beyond its point of departure from the paved road to Sunrise northeast of Flagstaff. There had been a heavy rain the previous day in the upper drainage shed of the Little Colorado. Thus fortified, the river promised to be at its spectacular best for its renowned "tumbling act" over the 185-foot high precipice which stands in its path at the falls.

Suddenly the huge tawny-coated form of a mountain lion glided onto the roadway ahead. It was a magnificent animal, gracefully powerful with the proud and defiant manner so typical of its kind.

I stopped quickly to let him pass. It was his country, and I certainly didn't intend to contest his right-of-way. He was obviously as aware of my presence as I was of his. The steady eyes never left me as he walked, with what I was sure was a deliberately slow pace, across an open stretch of grassland and up the gradual slope of a nearby hill. His head was still turned back in my direction as he disappeared over the top.

There are, of course, many other wildlife performers, from bears in the northland to javelina in the desert, who make appearances on the "back country stage" for the enjoy ment of back road buffs.

I have never seen an accurate estimate, but I am certain that for every mile of pavement Arizona has many miles of back roads, many of which escape the notice of even the most fastidious of map makers.

This vast back road network would doubtlessly require numerous volumes to describe and a lifetime or so to explore. I cannot expect to do more here than point out some of those I have found the most rewarding in the hope that they might

whet your appetite, as they have whetted mine, to continue to leave the "beaten track" for the ever-compelling lure of the Back Country.

There are several major areas of the state which offer particularly outstanding opportunities for back country travel. In Northeastern Arizona is the vast unforgettable beauty of the Navajo Indian Reservation. Farther south lies the unspoiled grandeur of the White Mountains. Just a little above where Arizona would position its belt buckle is an exquisitely forested volcanic region dominated by the San Francisco Peaks. And embracing, from border to border, the state's lower anatomy is the incomparable Southern Arizona desert. These are my personal nominations for the "Big Four" of Back Country Arizona. Each is a highly scenic, often spectacular, repository of leisurely byways waiting to guide you to back country adventure.

The Arizona Navajo Country lies mostly within the square-shaped box formed by the State's Utah and New Mexico boundaries on the north and east, U.S. 89 on the west and U.S. 66 to the south. A glance at this "box" on the map will show it to be intriguingly decorated with a profusion of "back road ribbons" which make it an attractive package, indeed, for back country connoisseurs.

Arizona's northeast corner boasts not only the Navajo Indian Reservation, but the Hopi Reservation as well, which lies in its entirety within the larger reservation's boundaries. It, too, is a fine storehouse of scenery, with "roads, roads everywhere" to search it out.

Road conditions are extremely variable on the Reservation. I remember the first time I took my camera "poking around Navajo land." At a trading post I inquired about roads in the area.

"Well now," the trader answered, "I'd say a fair share will git you there and back without too much of a hassle, and most of the others are passable if you've got the patience."

He paused for a second to grin, then added "But for the rest you'd better have two spares, plenty of clearance and a lot of luck."

Although many of the Reservation's travelways have been improved since then the trader's description is still apt and carries with it some important implicit advice: always inquire locally before taking any uncertain road (particularly after rain.) This is a wise precaution for back country travel anywhere. As is the carrying of of extra water and gasoline and such "trouble tools" as a shovel, jack, and tire pump.

Many reservation side roads will lead you on colorful tours through sandstone wonderlands of red-hued, cliff-faced mesas, wind-sculptured oddities in rock, lonely towering monoliths and canyons of indescribable beauty. Occasionally you will see a lonely Navajo shepherd with his slowly moving flock of sheep and goats adding a pastoral touch to the great landscape. It is as though a scene from a page of Biblical history is being re-enacted before you. And it always brings to my mind the words of Jesus from St. Matthew, "Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth."

These gentle Navajos have, indeed, inherited the earth - their Reservation - and within its eternal grandeur they have built their solitary hogans, raised their families and found that special contentment which is reserved for those of God's People who, in the simplest of existences, have found lives rich in dignity and meaning.

With so many back road tidbits being dangled before your eyes along every reservation thoroughfare I would suggest you sample those you pass which appear the most delectable. I have found that this is an excellent way to become quickly acquainted with the Navajo Back Country. Many of the highways' "wayward offspring" are not particularly long and lead, like shortened rainbows, quickly to their scenic pot of gold. By allowing them to give you relatively short introductions to a variety of areas you will soon appreciate more deeply the numerous facets of this "many splendored" land.

For example, about four miles east of where the Navajo Trail (U.S. 164) leaves U.S. 189 a graded road marked "Moenavi, 3 miles" leads northward. In a matter of minutes it will take you to a "Christmas setting" of green foliage and red bluffs that provides an idyllic homesite for several Navajo families.

Drooping fruit trees, like green-clad, battle weary soldiers, march in irregular rows between colorful outcroppings of sandstone while Indian children splash happily in a cool spring-fed pool, adding their joyous laughter to the distant bleating of sheep. Moenkopi Wash just off paved Reservation Rt. 264 (which leaves U.S. 164 about eight miles past the Moenavi turnoff) can provide another interesting "side venture" for the venturesome.

An un-marked, well-maintained road leaves the pavement just past the town of Old Moenkopi to run the length of the wash for several miles. Most tourists never set wheels on the floor of this fascinating valley, and I am certain there are no scheduled tours. But if a tour bus should ever be diverted onto this unimposing byway the driver would find himself busy pointing out the several statuesque formations of yellow and red sandstone that hug the perimeter of the valley.

In late spring or summer picturesquely sparse little patches of Indian corn that would be certain to draw a chuckle if seen by the "Jolly Green Giant" struggle for existence in a helter-skelter pattern throughout the Wash. Viewed from the distance of the Wash's rim they always look to me like thin blotches of green paint erratically sprayed on the valley floor.

About fifteen miles farther along Rt. 264 a three mile dirt side road leads off the rim of Coal Canyon, one of the real scenic treasures of the Navajo Country. This is listed as a Tribal Park, but except for a few picnic tables where the road reaches the rim there is nothing to detract from the unsullied atmosphere of the place.

The view here is almost unbelievable. Like upright fantastically contorted sardines, weird spires, in a spectrum of hues, are packed together in a small cove off the main canyon.

From this viewpoint the road degenerates into a set of primitive, but passable, wagon tracks which continue on around the rim for another mile or so. Eventually they come to a glorious end on a jutting promontory that offers superb sweeping vistas of the lower part of the canyon. Here it opens, in a breathtaking manner, into an everwidening, grass-bottomed valley whose serene expanse is broken only by the occasional hulking form of a squareshouldered monolith or group of "sand dune upstarts" whose colorful heads are thrust impudently above the valley floor.

Beyond the Tribal Park road for several miles various wagon trails of varying length connect Rt. 264 to other points "It is a feeling of being a participant in the scene rather than a remote and hurried spectator. I can stop on the slightest of whims to sniff the fragrance of a flower or study an unusual rock formation - without the blaring of outraged horns announcing that I am hindering the dash of civilization. "

Along the rim. These are well worth exploring because of the differing perspectives they provide of this amazing canyon. Less than twenty miles south of U.S. 164 in the beautiful Chinle Valley the hard-surfaced road to Round Rock passes a group of red-rock mesas to the east known as the "Pillars of Hercules." Several lackadaisical little roadways, whose only traffic jams are the result of dawdling flocks of sheep, are available to lead "back country investigators" for some very scenic miles along the base of these huge formations. Wind and sand have combined their sculpturing talents here to create a memorable exhibition of monolithic statuary. Chiseling patiently through the ages they have separated sev eral towering offspring from their parent mesas. They stand now, apart, impressive in their freedom that was so long in coming. The Reservation Country, averaging roughly between five and six thousand feet in elevation, can be thoroughly enjoyed in any season. But it is after a winter snow that I feel it puts its best scenic foot forward. The snows in most areas are normally not very heavy with the result that usually enough of the red sandstonedominated landscape remains exposed to provide strikingly beautiful scenes of white and red. And, except after a rare severe storm, many back roads will remain passable. This "Pillar of Hercules" area is ideally suited for a winter visit. The roads are usually kept open by the passage of Indian wagons, and the added enchantment of Winter's white makes the colorful formations all the more alluring.

These particular reservation roads I have mentioned are just a few "short straws" from an almost limitless "bale." Of course, it also contains many longer ones for the really adventuresome-at-heart. The Rainbow Trail, for example, traverses more than fifty "very back country" miles in its scenic journey from U.S. 164 near Tonalea past Inscription House Ruin to the head of the trail to Rainbow Natural Bridge.

Another worthwhile "long road" goes twenty lonely miles from Tonalea to Kaibito, passing White Mesa where White Mesa Natural Bridge is located. It continues on past Kaibito to eventually emerge from the Back Country at Page on Lake Powell.

The Payson-Mogollon Rim Country, pretty much in the center of things as far as location within the state is concerned, It is a back road area par excellence.

Below the Rim there are interesting side roads from Ari zona 87 and 160 to a number of springs, creeks and canyons. From the Tonto Creek Campgrounds near Kohl's Ranch on Arizona 169 an unimproved dirt road leads several miles to Zane Grey's remote cabin under the Rim where he wrote some of his books. The primitive road which follows along the top of the Mogollon Rim is a classic of back country travel. Except for an occasional fire lookout or campground the country it pene trates is almost totally untouched. Lakes, forests, flowers, wild life and some of the finest panoramic views in the state are among its potpouri of scenic delights. Its first section begins from Arizona 65, nine miles north of Strawberry and continues for over forty miles to U.S. 160. Ten miles farther north, a turnoff from the highway marks its final jaunt along the Rim, this time about seventy miles to Rt.

173 south of Pinetop.

Over 400 years ago the great explorer, Coronado, climbed the Mogollon Rim "stairway" to the White Mountain Country. His travels through this delightful region did not bring him any closer to the mythical Seven Cities of Cibola which he so unsuccessfully sought, but I am sure it must have been one of the highlights of his journey. For although the White Mountains, which occupy 800,000 enchanting acres of the Colorado Plateau, do not offer the golden riches reputed to the "Seven Cities" they have had "deposited to their back country account" a wealth of a different kind. It is available for "withdrawal" by anyone using the backroad combinations which lead into the great blue-canopied vault. Here are friendly mountains lazy-sloped as though reluctant to climb above the fragrance of flower-filled meadows stretching horizon-wide from their bases; inviting lakes blue watered and trout-filled, equally tantalizing to the camera and the fly rod; pleasant forests scattered but luxuriant stands of aspen, pine, fir and spruce (the Yellow, or Ponderosa Pine has become so luxuriant that it has formed the largest stand in the world).

The premier travel season in the White Mountains are summer and fall. Winter can be expected to spread an impen etrable white blanket over the back roads sometime in late November, leaving it in place until April or May. July usually brings the first heavy summer rains, and hard on their heels come the flowers, meadows and valleys of them.

Back Country landscapes become alive with color. Many a byway runs a golden gauntlet between sweeping flowerful vistas. And when irrepressible white thunderheads push their way boldly into the blue, mountain sky, as is their afternoon custom, the scene can be rated: perfect!

The showers that result from their appearance keep some of the roads a little sloppy. But then, onto every explorer's path "a little rain must fall." Besides, many of the White Moun tain "paths" are hard-packed gravel that are usually reliable performers even under the influence of a rain.

One of my my favorite summer tours through the Whites is a scenery-packed eighty-five mile jaunt beginning from Rt. 73 near Eagar and ending at Beaverhead along the Coronado Trail (U.S. 666).

The roads are gravel or good dirt and the trip can be made, if the weather is reasonably dry, by any passenger car in good condition.

The Mexican Hay Lake Road is the nineteen mile long "first installment." From Rt. 73 about two miles west ofEagar it guides you upward through juniper country to the pine tree level. If conditions are right you will be enthralled by one forest flower garden after another along the way.

Eagar it guides you upward through juniper country to the pine tree level. If conditions are right you will be enthralled by one forest flower garden after another along the way.

Mexican Hay Lake, at about the halfway point, apparently receives its name from the clump-like patches of reeds resembling loose bales of hay which grow above its surface.

The road ends on Rt. 273 west of Big Lake, and here you must jog about four miles west before taking the Maverick turnoff. After presenting, for your viewing pleasure, a flower spectacular series along the West Fork of the Black River,the road climbs out of the open valley it has been following.