BY: Bob Whitaker

THE REMARKABLE RANGE AT BISCUIT FLAT

Black Canyon Shooting Range, finest in the nation, is a world-class act in every respect.

Most travelers zipping north out of Phoenix on Interstate Route 17 are unaware that the volcanic butte northwest of the Carefree exit forms the backdrop for an outstanding facility where gunfire means recreation and friendly competition, not angry confrontation.

This is Maricopa County Parks and Recreation Department's Black Canyon Shooting Range the finest public shooting range in the nation and “world-class” in every respect.

"I can't begin to list the shooters who used Black Canyon for training in their successful quests for national and world records, but there have been as many as from any public range in America," boasts Lloyd Van Sickle, a retired master sergeant, championship marksman, and, for sixteen years, the supervisor of the 1400-acre range.

Black Canyon also claims to be the most heavily used public shooting range in the country. Last year nearly half a million people visited the sprawling range and its picnic grounds. That figure includes 340,000 who came specifically to shoot firearms for fun and competition, plus numerous military personnel and law enforcement officers, who were testing their mettle for more dangerous contests.

The Black Canyon Shooting Range, named for a nearby canyon once used during cattle drives, is the answer to a target-shooter's dream. As a result, the county-managed range was chosen for the 1970 World Shooting Championships, next to the Olympics the most prestigious event in competitive shooting. Says Van Sickle, "I'm forever amazed at the number of people from around the world who drive out to see the Black Canyon range and shoot here. Much of this comes from the World Shoot publicity.

"They travel from as far away as Australia, with Europeans most common. Last year a group of sporty French amateurs flew in to challenge some of our local fast-draw artists in a duel for fun. They did well, but they were no match for our western gunslingers."

But most traffic into the range brings serious competitive shooters, hunters "sighting in" their firearms, casual plinkers seeking a safe place to shoot, and young people learning the basics of shooting and gun handling. In fact, firearms safety instruction for young and old alike is a primary reason for the range's existence.

Others are attracted by the first-rate shotgun range and archery field course. And many people come just to marvel at the shooting skill of world-class competitors.

"Sure, we receive national and world-wide attention, but we are most proud of the fact that, in more than twenty-five years of operation, the range has only had one minor accident." Van Sickle beams at that record.

The story of the Black Canyon range goes back to the 1950s. Ben Avery, Arizona Republic outdoor writer who master-minded the project and turned a vision into reality, sets the scene: "Interest in competitive shooting began to boom after World War II, but the Phoenix area had few facilities to offer. People would set up makeshift ranges out in the desert, but this, of course, often proved dangerous."

Avery remembers only one local range-other than indoor small-bore facilitiesand it could barely handle ten shooters at a time. "Waiting lines were the rule, with shooters often giving up in disgust," he says.

Searching for a solution, Avery talked with Glenn Taylor, then president of the Arizona Rifle and Pistol Association and a fellow newspaperman. They formulated a plan to create a "country club for shooters."

"Always in our minds was the objective to keep this a community range where local folk could afford to shoot under

COMING YOUR WAY IN THE MONTHS AHEAD

“To become a pilgrim is to embark on an adventure as an act of faith. It must, however, have a sacred place as its goal.” This age-old custom of pilgrimage is perpetuated today in southern Arizona. The attraction: the Church of San Xavier del Bac, “the White Dove of the Desert,” recognized as the finest surviving example of mis-sion architecture. Arizona Highways takes you there. In November.

“The Temple of the World. In this year's holiday issue, our pho-tographers capture the moving spiritual qualities of the Grand Canyon in its many glorious moods, from the spec-tacle of dawn's first rays to the awe-inspiring afterglow of twilight. A celebra-tion of a very special season, in full color, with an introduction by award-winning southwestern author Frank Waters. In December.

“Water and the desert dweller: new conservation methods, technological advances, and arid-region landscaping . . . the exotic beauty of a rare desert snowfall illumi-nated in a special photographic port-folio . . . and Arizona activities of interest in a brand-new feature, a six-month calendar of events. In January.

SHARE THE ARIZONA ADVENTURE: Start or give an Arizona Highways subscription. Look for details in the 1986 Gift Catalog that accompanies this issue.

CHRISTMAS CARDS

Express your holiday greetings with Arizona Highways Christmas cards. These beautiful cards feature full-color Arizona scenes with warm holiday messages sure to please family and friends. The cards measure 4½ by 5½ inches folded. And each box contains 20 cards with the same photograph, plus 21 envelopes. $7.50 per box.

ARIZONA HIGHWAYS CLASSIC CHRISTMAS SERIES

Arizona Highways proudly introduces the first of its Classic Christmas Series. A refreshing way to greet family, friends, and business associates, these exquisite cards combine the beauty of Arizona with a thoughtful message of good will. The cards measure 5% by 7% inches folded. And each box contains 25 cards with the same photograph, plus 26 enve lopes. $19.95 per box.

Arizona Highways Christmas cards may be ordered through the enclosed 1986 Gift Catalog or by writing to Arizona Highways, 2039 West Lewis Avenue, Phoenix, Arizona 85009. Phone orders may be placed by calling (602) 2581000 or dialing toll-free within Arizona 1-800543-5432.

BISCUIT FLAT

supervised conditions," explains Avery. "Even today the charge is only two dollars, with youngsters under eighteen admitted free. So we've honored that commitment."

Locating a site wasn't easy, but finally they focused on a parcel of state land twenty-eight miles north of Phoenix called Biscuit Flat. Ben explains how this piece of country got its name: "It seems one of the old trail bosses, who had a passion for Dutch oven biscuits, liked to camp here on cattle drives to Phoenix. On one trip, the camp cook decided to whip up some extra biscuits for trail lunches. Unfortunately the packsack tore, and biscuits dribbled out all across the desert. From then on, the place was known as Biscuit Flat."

Avery helped convince the Arizona Legislature to allow the Game and Fish Department to take over the site for firearms safety training. Today Arizona has an enviable record of gun safety, partly because some 5000 students annually graduate from these classes.

Ground was broken for the range in November, 1959. Finally, on a sunny March morning in 1962, eighty-eight competitive shooters lined up to watch Governor Paul Fannin fire the first round in the official dedication ceremony. Appropriately, the governor scored a bull's-eye.

Soon thereafter the range was turned over to the Maricopa County Parks and Recreation Department for management as a park, along with a small fishing lake (Biscuit Flat Tank), an overnight campground, and picnic facilities.

The first thing a visitor sees upon entering the range is the 100-unit campground. Farther on, a dirt road meanders over to the one-acre fishing hole, teeming with midget bluegills. George Tallent, assistant range supervisor, calls the wooded glen his "Shangri-La."

"Few people know the lake is here, but the wildlife do," says Tallent. "I never walk around the froggy impoundment without seeing Gambel's quail and many desert songbird species-sometimes even javelina and deer."

Strangely, the wildlife, which are protected inside the park, seem undisturbed by the almost ceaseless gunfire. "In fact, last spring I saw two mule deer, doe and fawn, nonchalantly grazing behind the protective burm on the high-power rifle range while bullets thudded into the burm on the opposite side," relates Tallent.

Firearms safety classes are held on a course next to the lake. West of the safety course is a small-bore range that handles 100 shooters at a time. Adjoining the small-bore range is the main public shooting area for high-power firearms. Behind it stands a large building reserved for air-rifle enthusiasts. Don't expect to see BB guns here. These shooters use super-accurate precision weapons, many costing 800 dollars or more. Another Black Canyon handgun course is designed for law enforcement training, but lay citizens also use it on occasion for Home defense instruction. "A lady drove out the other day with a brand new revolver she had purchased after a break-in at her apartment. She wanted me to teach her how to shoot and handle it correctly," reports Van Sickle. A trap and skeet range and five miles of archery field courses for hunters and target shooters complete the lineup at Black Canyon. Beautiful weather and superb facilities are major parts of the formula that makes the range so popular. Both factors helped influence the National Rifle Association and International Shooting Union to select Black Canyon as the site for the 1970 world championships.

"Thailand had just canceled out as the host nation because of the Vietnam War, and we were offered the chance to substitute with only two years to prepare," Avery recalls. With community support, the range was made ready, and the event came off without a hitch. Some 600 shooters from fifty four nations participated, including several from behind the Iron Curtain.

Major competitions continue. In April, 1986, National Guard units from all fiftystates sent their best riflemen to Black Canyon. Each spring the range also sponsors a fair to build public understanding of shooting sports.

Who knows what the future holds for this remarkable range? If Lloyd Van Sickle and Ben Avery have their way, the fivering Olympic pennant will fly one day above Biscuit Flat.