Back Road Adventure

Back Road Adventure Take Off Down the Control Road into the Shadows of the Great Depression

Three miles south of Pine, I edge my car off the highway onto the entrance to a well-traveled dirt road. “Are you ready?” I ask my guide. He nods his head, and off we go down the Control Road, down through the forest of oaks and pines, down into the shadows of the past.My passenger and guide is Jim Blackburn, and he's come along to identify those shadows. Some 60 years ago, he built this road as foreman of a Depression-era Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) crew. His job was to carve out a route between Kohls Ranch and Pine. but he was given only the most primitive earth-moving equipment: primarily young men, horses, and dynamite.

“Oh, on a good day, we could do about half a mile,” Blackburn claims, grinning with the memory of those years. “That's if we didn't have too much hill cutting to do or a bunch of limestone ledges to hand drill.” The job took three solid summers to complete, but the price was right.

“We weren't allowed to spend more than $3,000 a mile,” says Blackburn. “So we did it cheap. We built this road mostly on potatoes, corned beef, and cabbage.” Blackburn has weathered a bit since his road-building days. The years have turned him as leathery and stringy as the beef jerky he likes to make. But when talk turns to his birth date, he laughs and retorts: “I'm four years older than the state of Arizona... and in a lot better shape.” (Arizona became a state 83 years ago, in 1912.) Blackburn proves his latter point when we pause at Webber Creek Bridge. He jumps out of the car and promptly scampers down to the creek bed below. A minute later, we're both looking up at the dark underbelly of the span.

“There should be a date on this thing somewhere,” Blackburn says, searching the rock pillars. “Every time we poured concrete, I told those WPA [Works Progress Administration] boys: 'Put a date on it.” Nevertheless, we give up looking before we find the one on this bridge.

“WPA?” I ask. “Didn't you just tell me the CCC built this road?” Blackburn smiles patiently. “Well, you see it was like this. The CCC came in about 1933, and we made the roadbed. Then the WPA came in about 1939, and we put down the gravel and built the bridges — six bridges in all, I believe.” Blackburn bossed both crews since his employer was the Forest Service, official beneficiary of the project. “It was supposed to be a fire-control road,” says Blackburn. “That's how it got its name.” The new road, however, proved of even greater benefit to the scattered ranch families of the area. Prior to its completion, the fastest way to civilization was on backcountry trails via horseback. We continue our drive eastward, finding memories tagged to every cliff and drainage in this wild broken country at the foot of the Mogollon Rim. At tiny Bray Creek, for instance, Blackburn breaks the silence again: “Used to be a still up there.” Then he snorts. “Used to be a still up most every one of these little canyons.” Before long we negotiate a continuous series of twists and turns that thread us between overstuffed alligator junipers and massive gambel oaks. After the hundredth or so curve, I ask Blackburn why he put so doggone many crooks in the road. "For one thing," he says, "it would have cost too much to make it go straight. We had to follow the lay of the land. And we didn't have the right equipment, either all we had when we started was a horsedrawn grader, a ditcher, and hand drills."

The curves eventually spill us out at the hamlet of Whispering Pines. Here we encounter another bridge, this one over the East Verde River, but it doesn't look like WPA work. Instead it is made of steel, arched in a familiar sort of way. (LEFT) The road runs through four miles of the infamous Dude Burn of 1990, which which killed six people and ravaged 28,480 acres. Golden-topped broom snakeweed and grasses reflect the beginning of the land's regeneration.

(BELOW) There wasn't enough money to make the road straight, explains Blackburn.

We cross the East Verde and continue east. After about three miles we dip through Fuller Creek, a now dry drainage named for pioneer rancher Hi Fuller. Blackburn tells me that Fuller was known for sending his wranglers out each summer with a box full of matches. "They were supposed to burn off the brush with those matches, and he charged them a dollar for every one they brought back. Back in those days, you see, this land looked completely different. It was mostly grass, and the streams ran all the time. They weren't so choked by brush and Utah juniper."

Soon we cross the bridge over Bonita Creek, then climb over a ridge descending from Diamond Point. Here Blackburn points out an old fence line that used to double as a telephone carrier: voices were routed straight through the top strand of wire.

Finally we bounce our way down Thompson Draw toward the community of Tonto Village. As we approach, oaks and junipers gradually give way to evenly spaced pines, and native gravel abruptly turns to asphalt. The change in road surface signals an imminent end to our drive, but we have one more stop to make: the former headquarters of Blackburn's CCC outfit at Indian Garden. In the 1930s, this place was home to hundreds of workers. We drive up State Route 260 a mile or so and pull into the old CCC camp. Blackburn immediately points eastward toward an open meadow. "That's where the tents sat, and beyond it is the swimming hole I dug out for the boys." The local spring is overgrown now, but the rest of the area appears well kept. An eightfoot-high rock pyramid sits in the center of the onetime camp. On one side is a white plaque that lists the CCC camp's top brass. On the other side is an insignificant inscription that reads "A.L. Crackel, 1933."

I ask Blackburn if he remembers the man. "Oh yes, he did all our rock work. He was called an L.E.M. That stands for 'local experienced man.' It meant he was an older guy with skills, and so he got 45 bucks a month instead of the regular $30."

We return to Pine, retracing curve after curve. On the way, I ask Blackburn what he'd change if he had the road to build over again. He lifts his hat and scratches his forehead before answering. "I guess I wouldn't do anything different," he tells me. "Fact is, I think it's a better drive where you have a bunch of curves.

Why?

"Well, a straight highway'll put you right to sleep, but a crooked road....." and here he pauses while we slide around a hairpin turn, "well, a crooked road like this just kinda keeps you on the ball."

TIPS FOR TRAVELERS

When traveling on back roads, be aware of weather and road conditions, and make sure you and your vehicle are in top shape and you have plenty of water. Don't travel alone, and let someone at home know your plans.