Journey to Sky Island

Mount Graham

This Southeastern Arizona Sky Island Teems with Primitive Beauty and Space Age Controversy

Text by Tom Kuhn Photographs by Jerry Sieve

Startled by our sudden appearance, the mountain lion dropped into a crouch not more than 30 yards away. Then it dissolved into a blur of fluid motion and simply wasn't there anymore.

Wildlife biologist Genice Froehlich sat transfixed for a moment behind the wheel of our government four-wheel-drive truck. The big cats are a rare sight. "That's the first one I've seen up here!" she exclaimed. "And I've only seen one other before."

Although I've spent plenty of time knocking around in lion country, "That's the first one I've ever seen," I admitted.

Froehlich stopped the truck, and I stalked to the road's edge and looked over and down the mountainside, hoping for another glimpse. We were two-thirds of the way up 10,717-foot Mount Graham in southeastern Arizona. Ponderosa pines clung to slopes so steep they seemed in danger of falling off. Far below, cloud shadows drifted across a high desert of dry grass and spiny ocotillo bush. No trace of the cougar remained, not even a track.We had come to see the endangered Mount Graham red squirrel, a subspecies that has evolved apart from its common kin since the end of the Pleistocene epoch 11,000 to 15,000 years ago. The squirrels' habitat has become central to a struggle between astronomers constructing a telescope array on the summit and conservationists who say the $200 million development threatens wildlife.

Froehlich shifts into gear, and we continue up. Swift Trail, officially State Route 366,was built in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps. It twists and turns past Noon Creek - named for the distance you could ride on horseback in a half-day - and Turkey Flat, where the air becomes cooler.

Mount Graham is actually a peak, the highest point in the humpbacked Pinaleno Mountains. The Pinaleno range is one of southeastern Arizona's "sky islands," socalled because it resembles an island of green rising from a tawny desert sea that extends to Mexico. Most of the Pinalenos are in the Coronado National Forest, administered by the Forest Service, for which Froehlich works. Except for salvage cuts, logging is currently banned. So is cattle grazing.

A mat of spruce, fir, and pine forest covers Mount Graham so thickly that a 1942 aircraft crash lay undiscovered there for 30 years. Tree rings record that about every 100 years, fierce fires prune large sections of the forest hereabouts.

History marched this way. Above us, during the Apache wars in the 1870s, U.S. Army signalmen flashed messages from 10,002-foot Heliograph Peak, using mirrors to reflect sunlight. They hiked up from Fort Grant at the southern foot of the mountain along trails now popular with backpackers. The Apaches themselves once held these strategic heights against other tribes.

Today the San Carlos Apaches still look to the mountain for spiritual uplift from their reservation 20 miles to the northwest. There are those who believe spirits live on top, and that Mount Graham is a holy place which should be protected.

During summer monsoons, when tropical air pushes moisture into Arizona, rain clouds dam up behind the mountain and release rivers of water to the lowlands. "I can see why a Native American tribe would think this a sacred mountain," Froehlich said. "From the valley floor, it looks like where the rain begins."

In winter, snows fall on the summit, and the road beyond 9,000-foot Shannon Campground is closed November 15 to April 15. Cross-country skiers and snowmobilers replace summer campers and the autumn hunters who come for deer and black bears. More than 200 bears roam Mount Graham, requiring campgrounds to be armored with bearproof trash cans.

We found red squirrels quickly. Froehlich is an expert on them. She studied their habits for three years and wrote a master's thesis about them. Her work often required her to live weeks at a time on the mountain at the Forest Service's 9,000-foot-high Columbine Camp. About 400 red squirrels live in oldgrowth Douglas fir, Engelmann spruce, and the peculiar corkbark fir stands that surround the 8.6-acre site for the Mount Graham International Observatory. I hunched in concealment near an old lightning-killed fir with a midden heap of spruce cone chips at its base, and, using a squirrel hunter's trick, I shook two 25-cent coins together to imitate squirrel chatter. It was a good spot because fresh spruce cones plugged the holes where a squirrel was caching food.

Mount Graham

New motels and restaurants have opened, creating new service jobs where agriculture has reigned since the area was settled in 1874. A 24-hour tourist industry thrives, and local government has protected its economic interest in the mountain's recreation potential and the telescopes.

Safford changed to low-intensity street lights that won't affect the astronomer's nighttime look into the universe. The visitors center will be enlarged. There's a push to widen and improve Swift Trail beyond where pavement now ends. Ground has been broken south of Safford on the way to Mount Graham for an arrow-shaped Museum of Discovery devoted to astronomy and local industry.

"I used to tell people this area was known for the three Cs-cattle, copper, and cotton - but now I tell them tourism is part of it, too," Cox explained.

Add to the commercial equation the fact that the whole Upper Gila Valley sits over a large geothermal aquifer heated by the deep-down fires that millions of years ago helped build Mount Graham. For visitors year-round, artesian wells flowing 105° F. mineral water offer unexpected pleasure.

The spas are not well known, even to Arizonans. At Hot Well, 45 miles east of Safford on U.S. Route 191, the Bureau of Land Management has invested in a three-tub spa with adjoining rest facilities. Around Safford and Thatcher, commercial spas have opened. Winter sports enthusiasts can get a hot soaking for $3 at several spas in Safford, and for $2 in Thatcher where, Cox said, a farmer drilling a 10-inch bore in search of sweet water instead struck a sulfurous gusher.

"Just about every other well that's drilled around here comes in hot," he added.

Just my luck to arrive on Sunday when all the commercial spas are closed. But Cox disclosed a local secret.

"I know where you can sit in hot water just five minutes from here, and it's free," he confided. "All the local people go there. They just put a sheet of plastic in the sand and take a mineral bath."

He gave directions, and, sure enough, at the end of a long farm road, beside the nearly dry Gila River, right in town, hot mineral water poured unchecked from a big wellhead casing. I was guided by the smell of sulfur. Silently I thanked Cox. The water is 108° F., really too hot for comfort, but I backed into the flow and found it soothing. I looked up at Mount Graham, now gathering late shadows, the sacred giver of water to man and beast alike, and, in my thoughts, I fast-forward-ed the day. Somewhere up there, I mused, a mountain lion is much smarter about man than when the day began. I believed the squirrels will do all right, too, now that they are politically empowered.

I took away a personal treasure. In my notebook are penciled the locations of primitive places I will come back to, to camp under stars astronomers will study from cold mountaintop lairs on moonless nights. Like Froehlich I wish Mount Graham were a better-kept secret, now that I've discovered it. But I know people like Cox will keep telling everyone they meet about the sky island and the hot tubs.

Travel Guide: For detailed information about the great variety of places to travel in Arizona, we recommend the guidebooks Travel Arizona and Travel Arizona: The Back Roads. Both will direct you to exciting destinations and out-of-the-way attractions. Our Arizona Road Atlas, featuring maps of 27 cities, mileage charts, and points of interest, also is a necessity for travelers. To place an order, telephone toll-free (800) 543-5432. In the Phoenix area or outside the U.S., call (602) 258-1000.

WHEN YOU GO

To reach Mount Graham from Phoenix, take U.S. Route 60 to Globe, U.S. 70 to Safford, then go south on U.S. 191 to the State Route 366 turnoff. From Tucson take Interstate 10 to the U.S. 191 exit 12 miles past Willcox, then proceed north 30 miles to the State 366 turnoff to Mount Graham. For more information, contact the Coronado National Forest, Safford Ranger District, P.O. Box 709, Safford, AZ 85548-0709; (520) 749-8700.

Capturing Color at Stunning Monument Valley

Stunning sandstone formations sculpted by Nature eons ago, a spectacularly blue sky, and sunny days surrounded ed by breathtaking sunrises and sunsets will have participants on a Monument Valley Photo Workshop, September 27-30, exclaiming they don't have nearly enough film. And those who think their cup runneth over with scenic subjects will appreciate the guidance of Marc Muench, a noted outdoor photographer whose pictures have graced the pages of calendars and magazines, making the cover of Arizona Highways in October 1994. A wonderland of geologic artistry deep in Navajoland, Monument Valley has been 250 million years in the making, and the results have lured millions of folks, from early-day Indians and a few hardy pioneers to moviemakers like John Ford and the thousands of tourists who visit each year. Breathtaking sights that will mesmerize participants until Muench reminds them to "take the picture" will include the Totem Pole, an impossibly thin monolith that thrusts 470 feet toward the sky; Eye of the Sun, where standing in just the right spot is the key; and Ear of the Wind, where - if the ancient gods are so disposed - a receptive photographer might hear something more than the snapping of shutters. Other trip highlights are a stop at Cameron Trading Post, built in 1916 on the Little Colorado River, sunrise and sunset photo sessions, individual field instruction, and a critique by the tour pro. Following are other trips in upcoming months.

PHOTO WORKSHOPS Prescott Rodeo; July 1-4; Ken Akers. Grand Canyon, North Rim; July 26-29; Tom Till. North Rim Fall Color; October 2-6; Christine Keith. Cowboys & Ranches; October 23-27; Ken Akers. FRIENDS SCENIC TOURS WITH CELEBRITY HOSTS Keet Seel/Betatakin; June 1-4. ART TOURS WITH SCOTTSDALE ARTISTS' SCHOOL Grand Canyon South Rim; October 4-6. SCENIC TOURS WITH RAY MANLEY Monument Valley, Canyon de Chelly, Grand Canyon; October 16-20. SCENIC TOURS WITH DON DONNELLY STABLES Monument Valley; June 4-8. WHEN YOU GO

The Friends of Arizona Highways offers a variety of ways to explore the wonders of Arizona. Photo Workshops led by our master contributing photographers provide picture takers of all skill levels with hands-on instruction to help them take photos like those in the magazine. Friends Scenic Tours offer the bonus of "celebrity hosts," magazine editors and writers who bring along their own special sense of fun and adventure. Scenic Tours with Ray Manley are organized primarily for mature adults. And amateur artists will pick up tips from the experts on Art Tours with the Scottsdale Artists' School. Assistance is provided by Nikon, Hasselblad, Fuji, and Image Craft. For more information, call the Friends' Travel Office, (602) 271-5904.

WEARABLE ART FROM ARIZONA HIGHWAYS НОНОКАМ PETROGLYPH T-SHIRT

Petroglyphs at South Mountain Park in Phoenix inspired graphic artist Lynne Hamilton's design on this unique T-shirt that features a few words about the Hohokam culture on the back. Made in the U.S.A., this 100 percent cotton, washed-brick T-shirt comes in three sizes and costs $19.95 plus shipping and handling.

ileposts Talking Trees

The next time you're wandering through the forests of the San Francisco Peaks and get upset because some bozo has carved his (or her) initials into the trunk of a majestic aspen, take a closer look. Most such carvings are thoughtless graffiti, but some are important historically, says Janet Dean of Flagstaff's Museum of Northern Arizona. Since the late 19th century, sheepherders and their families (mostly Spanish and Basque) moving their flocks between the Verde Valley and the high coun-try have recorded messages on the aspens. The "dendroglyphs" (dendro for tree, glyph for symbol or character) are being studied by researchers Philip Weigand and Acelia Gracia, who so far have documented more than 800. The carved messages encompass not only names and dates but poetry and even political symbols and commentary.

Old West Memorabilia

Western aficionados traveling in the Prescott area should mosey over to nearby Dewey to check out the Bit & Spur, an antique store that houses what may be the largest collection of turn-of-the-century spurs, saddles, chaps, ropes, and cowboy gear in the state. Browsing around's like a trip to the days of the Old West. The store is on the site of a onetime saloon at the northeast corner of State routes 69 and 169. To inquire, write them at P.O. Box 21, Dewey, AZ 86327, or call (520) 632-5648.

Fishing Horsethief Basin

Take your fishing gear as well as camping equipment when you head for Horsethief Basin Recreation Area high in the Bradshaw Mountains, 75 miles north of Phoenix. Because just a half-mile walk from the area's improved campgrounds, there's a small reservoir where sixpound largemouth bass, catfish, and bluegills warily await your arrival. Horsethief Basin campsites are six miles up a graded, bumpy road from the old mining town of Crown King with its stores and saloons. Hazlett Hollow Campground features three-wall Adirondack shelters and there's even a tennis court in the area. Tip-Top and Horsethief trailheads are nearby, and they lead into the rugged alpine Castle Creek Wilderness.

To reach Horsethief Basin, take the Interstate 17 turnoff at the Bumble Bee exchange all the way to Crown King. Or come in from Mayer on Forest Service Road 178, a smoother stretch of dirt. Watch for wildlife: deer, bears, javelinas, and some elk can be spotted in the surrounding Prescott National Forest. For campground information, call (520) 445-7253. Camping's free in winter.

Cowboy Extravaganza

It's not too late to enjoy the final days of this year's "Trappings of the American West," a celebration of the American cowboy held at Flagstaff's Coconino Center for the Arts. The show, which began May 6 and closes June 17, features works by contemporary cowboy painters, sculptors, and photographers along with the creations of traditional artisans: saddles, bits and spurs, boots, hats, knives, and such. The show's authority comes from the fact that every artist/artisan has ranching or rodeo experience. Related activities include concerts, cowboy poetry, storytelling and singing, a barbecue dinner and dance, and an art auction. There's an admission charged for some activities. For more information, call (520) 779-6921.

EVENTS Gem & Mineral Show

June 1-3; Flagstaff The Grand Ballroom of the Little America Hotel will sparkle with the gemstones, jewelry, and beads that are the hallmark of this annual show. There'll also be displays of lapidary equipment. Admission is free. Information: (520) 774-2648.June 3; Holbrook

Old West Days

One of the rip-roaringest of the Old West cowtowns recalls its storied past with this celebration held outside the historic Navajo County Courthouse. Activities include the "Bucket of Blood Races" (named for gambler Frank Wattron's infamous saloon), which offer a 10K footrace, 2-mile Fun Run, and 20-mile bicycle ride from the Petrified Forest to Holbrook. There'll also be Native American singing and dancing, an art show, arts and crafts, kids' games, a barbecue, and a pancake breakfast. Warning: "Dress Western or go to the hoosegow." There's a charge for some activities. Information: (520) 524-6558 or tollfree (800) 524-2459.

Grand Canyon Star Party

June 17-24; Grand CanyonThe sky's no limit at this free annual stargazing party sponsored by the Tucson Amateur Astronomy Association and the Park Service. Activities, which take place at the Yavapai Observation Station on the South Rim, begin at sunset with a slide show and orientation talk. Then amateur astronomers from throughout the country offer their telescopes so that the public can enjoy the spectacular heavenly views. All that and the Canyon, too. Information: (520) 638-7835.

Mountain Frontier Days

June 24-25; Pinetop Nestled in a year-round vacation wonderland on the edge of the Fort Apache Indian Reservation, Pinetop hosts a salute to its frontier past with a passel of family fun, including live music, a chili cook-off, and arts and crafts. Admission is $1. Information: (520) 367-4290.

Frontier Days & Rodeo

June 29-July 4; Prescott This annual happening in the mile-high community that reminds everybody of their hometown lights up the sky with fireworks and keeps locals and visitors busy with fun stuff like a rodeo, a carnival, arts and crafts, softball tournaments, and Special Olympics for children. There's an admission charged for some activities. Information: toll-free (800) 358-1888.

egends of the Lost The Golden Bonanza of the Frenchmen's Glitter Gulch Remains Awash in Slippery Facts

The western Arizona landscape is an enormous desert of shifting shadows and seemingly impenetrable dry mountain ranges. In this wild terrain where humans are scarce, the solitude can swallow you whole, which is more or less what it did to three French prospectors who wandered northeast of Yuma a little more than a hundred years ago.The Frenchmen were look-ing for gold and evidently found a rich deposit of it rough-ly 70 miles east and north of Yuma, possibly in the Eagle Tail Mountains. No one knows be-yond a doubt which range they were in. They could have been in the Kofas, the Palomas, or the Eagle Tails. One report from 1916 puts their find 25 miles south of Ajo, a long way from the Kofas and Eagle Tails.

In the story about what came to be known as the Lost French-men Mine, there are only two consistent points: first, that the Frenchmen turned up at a store in Yuma with several thousand dollars worth of gold; second, that three skeletons (maybe two) were later found, and these were believed to be the remains of the French miners.

Most reports say that the Frenchmen came to Yuma from Mexico around 1867, stocked up with enough gear to keep them alive for a protracted period in the arid wilderness, and left town in a northeasterly direction. Approximately a month later, they returned to Yuma and rode their mules down Main Street to the W.B. Hooper and Co. general store.

The men carried buckskin sacks into the store, and a couple of witnesses said they saw them and the owner go into the back office, where the gold scales and safe were kept. The word was later circulated that the Frenchmen's sacks contained coarse gold.

"All records of this transaction are lost," Roscoe G. Willson wrote in The Arizona Republic in 1952, but it has been stated the Frenchmen's deposit at the store amounted to several thou-sand dollars.

"The Frenchmen put their mules in a corral, found apart-ments, and proceeded to paint the town red," Willson added. "They talked, laughed, danced with the señoritas, and drank deeply, but never a word would they say about where they got their gold."

The Frenchmen were clever. At some point, they evidently realized their movements were being closely observed. They quickly learned that someone had hired a spy to watch the corral and report when they came for their burros and left town. But the Frenchmen outfoxed the fox by hiring a Mexican to lure the spy away with a bottle of whiskey.

Once the spy was removed, the Frenchmen slipped their mules out of the corral and went to the rear of Hooper's store where, by prearrangement, their supplies were waiting for them.

"They then drove the mules aboard the steamboat Colorado, skippered by Captain Johnson, and with him pulled out at daylight, to be unloaded 25 miles up the river at Castle Dome landing," Willson reported. "From there, they disappeared into the sand dunes and mountains to the east."

About a month later, the Frenchmen returned, again bearing several small sacks of what was presumed to be gold. Once more they were escorted to the office in the rear of the W.B. Hooper store. None of the locals ever saw the gold. What they saw were three prospectors carrying heavy sacks to the rear of-fice, and the same men afterward spending large sums of money on gambling and carousing.

A few days later, the Frenchmen left town again, once more eluding the watchers.

No one saw them alive again. Months turned into years, but the Frenchmen never returned to Yuma. Eventually prospectors began roaming the harsh desert mountains looking for the gold bonanza they were sure the Frenchmen had located and lost. Over the years, some silver and gold strikes were made in the Trigo Mountains, the Dome Rock Mountains, and the Plomosas, the camel-colored ranges along the east flank of the Colorado River, but nothing smacked of the riches suggested by the Frenchmen's haul.

According to John D. Mitchell, who wrote about lost mines for Desert Magazine, the Frenchmen still had an $8,000 credit at Hooper's store when they vanished.

No one really knows what happened to the men, but a few years after their disappearance some skeletons were found in the desert northeast of Yuma, and many presumed these to be the remains of the ill-fated prospectors. The only "fact" everyone seems agreed upon is that the men were killed by a band of hostile Indians. Come to think of it, even that is a little slip-pery because, depending on whose account you're reading, there were three Frenchmen, or two, and sometimes only one; and the number of skeletons found always seems to change accordingly.

Roscoe Willson even came up with an explanation for the Frenchmen's death, probably gleaned from conversations with old-timers living near Agua Caliente. Willson said the men were led to the gold deposit by Indians they en-countered during one of their exploratory forays. The Indians wanted whiskey and agreed to show the prospectors where the gold was located and al-low them to take some of it to Yuma if they would come back with whiskey.

"On the first trip to Yuma," Willson wrote, "they brought back plenty of food, but in their hurry to depart failed to get the whiskey. Arriving back at camp, they had a difficult time to keep from getting killed by the angry Indians but finally pacified them with a promise to take more gold to Yuma within a short time and bring back much whiskey. For some reason on the second trip they again failed to bring the things they had promised the Indians. They were attacked and killed, and their mules were slaughtered and eaten."

Anyone wanting to hunt for this "lost" mine must contend with yet another slippery fact: in 1895 and again in 1916, Arizona newspapers reported that the Lost Frenchmen Mine had been found. Most of the news in those days traveled by word of mouth and no one was interested in the dreary business of verifying information before publishing it. As a result, The Arizona Daily Star (of Tucson)

Text by Sam Negri * Illustrations by Kateri Weiss

reported on January 30, 1895, that the Lost Frenchmen had been found, and didn't blink when it casually acknowledged that the information came from a Phoenix correspondent who had heard it from a mailman in the vicinity of the Harquahala Mountains.

"The news," said The Star, "has created intense interest among the old residents of the capital city [Phoenix] who remember the disappearance of the Frenchmen thirty years ago . . . Gila residents regard the strike as an important one, as it verifies reports concerning lost mines that have been considered mythical." The Star placed the lost mine 25 miles north and east of Aztec.

With equal conviction, the Tombstone Prospector reported 21 years later that the elusive mine had once again been found, but this time it was 25 miles south of Ajo. So take your pick, but in any case, carry a lot of water.

Arizona Humor One Runner's Boast

As my 54th birthday approached in 1989, I decided to run 30 miles a day to keep in training for the marathons I compete in. To add incentive, I planned to run from Huntington Beach, California, to the Four Corners National Monument. My wife drove our pickup.

While running across the Navajo Reservation between Kayenta and Mexican Water, I came across two elderly Indians. One of the men asked me where I was going.

I was 20 miles from any town, more than 50 miles from the monument, and my wife was not in sight, so I thought I'd impress them.

"I'm running from Los Angeles to Colorado," I said.

After a long embarrassing silence, one of the old Navajos replied, "Well, sonny, if I was you I'd run a little faster, or I don't think you'll make it before dark."

Special Treat

For our parents' 40th wedding anniversary, we children sent them on a trip to Sedona, the Grand Canyon, and then on to Tucson where my sister lives.

Because the hotel in Sedona takes reservations far in advance, my mom called in January to confirm the May reservation.

The woman who answered was totally perplexed by the call. She wanted to know the exact time my mom would be arriving and how many people would be involved.

My mom didn't understand the woman's confusion and really couldn't understand why she needed the exact time of arrival, a question my mom could not possibly answer.

At the height of my mom's frustration at the lack of understanding and help she was getting, the woman asked, "Do you realize that you have reached a Chinese restaurant?"

New Hiking Trail

Costumed Spanish soldiers with gleaming silver breastplates astride magnificent horses, foot soldiers, several grand Spanish ladies, and some friars participated in the ceremonies recently when a portion of the Juan Bautista de Anza National Historic Trail opened in Tumacacori in southern Arizona.

Dozens of photographers and TV reporters jockeyed for positions amid hundreds of observers who came to watch a page of Arizona history unfold in the morning sunlight. A couple of tourists watched the proceedings without any idea of what was going on. "I don't know," one said to the other. "I think it's a new Taco Bell."

Cowboy's Night Out

In the 1930s, my aunt and uncle owned a small ranch east of Tucson, where they employed a cowhand named Ed.

Ed had a room off the barn, and there he kept himself when his chores were done. He seemed to prefer the company of a mare named Mattie to humans.

Ed also was known to take a drop or two on his infrequent weekends in Tucson. Very late one such Saturday night, he was seen climbing out of the bed of a pickup truck and stumbling about 200 yards to his quarters.

When there was no sign of life from Ed's room by midafternoon Sunday, my aunt went to the barn and knocked.

"Ed, are you all right?"

There was a slight stir inside and a groan or two, then Ed's voice: "That you, Mattie?"

Hide 'n' Seek

To give our daughter and grandchildren a flavor of the Old West, we took them to Rawhide in Scottsdale.

We were standing outside one of the gift shops when our four-year-old grandson asked what the thing was draped over a hitching post.

We told him in unison, "It's a cow's hide."

He looked at us with a puzzled expression and asked, "Cows hide under here?"

Sight-seeing

I am afraid of heights. So on a trip to Arizona, my family had to blindfold me and take me to the bottom of the Grand Canyon so I could see it.

Party Time

In May while grocery shopping, my way was blocked by a cart that contained tortillas, frijoles, jalapeños, fresh cilantro, red chiles, and an assortment of other items obviously in preparation for a Cinco de Mayo party.

As the two shoppers checked off their shopping list, one said to the other, "Well, it looks like we have almost everything. All we need to get now is the ice, the margarita mix, the tequila, and the aspirin."

TO SUBMIT HUMOR

Send us a short note about your humorous experiences in Arizona, and we'll pay $75 for each one we publish.

We're looking for short stories, no more than 200 words, that deal with Arizona topics and have a humorous punch line.

Send them to Humor, Arizona Highways, 2039 W. Lewis Ave., Phoenix, AZ 85009. Please enclose your name, address, and telephone number with each submission.

We'll notify those whose stories we intend to publish, but we cannot acknowledge or return unused submissions.

Roadside Rest Scientists Are Challenged to Find the First Flower at Petrified Forest

This summer, as in the past, scientists of several disciplines will inspect the rocks and sift the sands of Arizona's extraordinary other national park.

What will they discover? More dinosaurs maybe. Perhaps insights into ancient human cultures. And hope persists that some curious and clever paleobotanist will find... the Earth's first flower.

The Grand Canyon, in northern Arizona, as a scenic open book of geology, enjoys international fame. Southeastward from the Canyon, not so widely appreciated, yet equally instructive, is a window to the past called Petrified Forest National Park. It is 94,000 acres of crystalized trees, prehistoric sites, pigmented badlands, and so much more.

One summer a decade or so ago, a team led by paleontologist Rob Long from the University of California, Berkeley, extracted a theretofore unknown fossilized animal the size of a greyhound. That is, a Greyhound bus!

"Probably weighed 10 tons," opined Rob. "In its time, it could have been the largest animal living on Earth. It carried armor like a tank at least three types of enormous bony plates on its tail and back and belly." Over a 60-day period, Rob's crew turned up two dozen extinct animal species new to science. About that first flower. All of us know the last flower, overhead and underfoot, from window box to boundless wild, from corsage to boutonniere. The last flower is sold in specialty stores and nurtured in millions of gardens.

The last flower in a chain of evolution exists as one of 240,000 plant species worldwide. Even the thrifty desert may host a billion flower seeds per acre. Orchids alone have diversified so abundantly, botanists aren't certain if there are 15,000 or 35,000 kinds. Just of orchids. The Last Flower. It is ours simply to reach out and touch.

Ah, but the First Flower. Nobody has yet plucked it, even in the abstract. Not quite. It's a long shot, but some scientists believe that evidence of the First Flower may be found within the stony landscape of the Petrified Forest. There, or some place like it.

But this odyssey into the distant past is daunting, indeed. For fossils well dated and informative are rare. One paleobotanist has described the limitations of the lithic record thusly: "Imagine that the entire library of the motion picture and television industries has been destroyed. You are handed two dozen faded, cracked, stained, uncaptioned, and incomplete black-and-white studio photographs from which you are expected to reconstruct a reasonable progression from The Great Train Robbery to Dances With Wolves."

The earliest plants, singlecelled algae, appeared in primordial waters some 2 billion years ago. Weird, tentative, rootless, leafless, amphibious liverworts later experimented along shores. Then horsetails, mosses, cycads, and ferns invaded barren rock to develop systems of seeds, the means of maintaining a spark of life through dry and difficult spells. Gymnosperms flourished 200 million years before the present as precursors of modern pines, hemlocks, and spruces.

These conifers, among the first to package a wind-pollinated, food-bearing, fertilized germ, radiated around the globe. But there remained yet another series of refinements toward vegetation's climax.

And it was this: the trickery and bribery (with blossom and nectar) of insects, birds, and mammals into fetching pollen (sperm) from a male plant organ to a female egg reposing within a protective container (angio). Thus, angiosperm, or flowering plant. Angiosperms broke free of dependency upon fickle winds to consummate pollination. Flowering plants in partnership with bees and other pollinators could divert energies into conquering the plant world. Today six of 10 plant species bear flowers.

Dr. Sidney R. Ash, chairman of geology and geography at Weber State University at Ogden, Utah, suspects that "The appearance of the first angiosperm in and of itself may have been quite undramatic, but the result was a revolution in life-forms not just plants all over the Earth."

A profusion of modified creatures from nectar-lusting hummingbirds to fruit-eating monkeys followed the flowers. Putting the botanical revolution into human terms: today about 15 angiosperm species supply nearly all of the food base for the people of the world.

The scientific consensus places the earliest known flower fossils in the geologic Cretaceous Period, more or less 100 million years ago. But nobody claims to have found the First Flower.

Nearly every summer, Dr. Ash & Company go afield in the Petrified Forest, and, "We find at least one heretofore unclassified ancient plant species nearly every time we go. It's more than a little humbling to discover pollen, or a waxy plant substance called cutin, which survived intact for millions of years."

Millions of years before the Cretaceous Period occurred the Triassic, when (as at the Petrified Forest) lush, towering swamps harbored huge lizardlike reptiles and amphibians. Amid a bounty of evidence, Sid Ash wouldn't be surprised if somewhere in the Triassic, the beginnings will be found of the First Flower. M Millions of years before the Cretaceous Period occurred the Triassic, when (as at the Petrified Forest) lush, towering swamps harbored huge lizardlike reptiles and amphibians. Amid a bounty of evidence, Sid Ash wouldn't be surprised if somewhere in the Triassic, the beginnings will be found of the First Flower. M

ack Road Adventure A Journey to the Land of Four Seasons Is a Movable Feast of Southwestern Life with a Touch of Back East Flavor

Few excursions offer as much diversity as a trip along the back road that winds from the old territorial capital at Prescott to the cool pine-clad hills in the bustling northern city of Flagstaff.

Prescott, located at an altitude of 5,354 feet in the center of the state, has the architectural appearance of a town built in New England and exported to Arizona. Founded in 1864, it had a population that was a mix of miners, soldiers, saloonkeepers, merchants, and territorial politicians sent from the East; the town's structures reflected the style these newcomers knew.

Instead of the low flat-topped adobes common in southern Arizona, the first buildings along Granite Creek were simple structures of rough-hewn logs. As the town grew, the Midwestern and Eastern transplants put up building after building with sawed lumber, brick, and native stone. Today Prescott's most picturesque streets, fanning out from the central Courthouse Plaza, which would have been called “the Green” in New England, are lined with restored twoand three-story Victorians with gables and graceful porches.

Prescott is a surprise to firsttime visitors not only because of its architecture but because it has four noticeable seasons. Fall mornings are filled with the fragrance of decaying leaves, winters often bring a light dusting of snow, and spring is a mild carpet green with the promise of summer.

The Sharlot Hall Museum, which includes the first governor's house, provides a good introduction to the area and will enhance the remainder of the journey to the north. After seeing the museum on Gurley Street, drive east to State Route 89. Turn north (left) and travel for about four miles to the junction of State 89A, which heads east through a jumble of granite boulders. The road swings up from rolling grasslands to pineand juniper-covered hills of the Prescott National Forest.

Suddenly, a mere 26 miles from the junction of routes 89 and 89A, the road winds into the once-burgeoning mining town of Jerome.

In 1903 a reporter for the New York Sun visited Jerome and went home in a state of shock. “Jerome,” he wrote, “is the wickedest town in America.” About four years earlier, in the aftermath of one of the town's devastating fires, a Salvation Army matron stood in the middle of what remained of Main Street and offered her prayers for “the Sodom and Gomorrah of Arizona.” God, declared the Salvation Army's Mrs. Thomas, had burned Jerome to purify it. Ever since its incorporation in 1899, it seems, Jerome has been getting bad press. And yet, for the last 20 years or so, an unstoppable string of tourists has been making its way there. Many attracted by its placenames: Jerome, for example, is perched on Cleopatra Hill on the side of Mingus Mountain. Others have heard that it was a ghost town, the remnant of one of the richest ore-producing mines in the United States.

While Jerome is not a ghost today, in the mid-1960s it came pretty close. In 1964 the town had about 20 voters; the water system had collapsed; the sewer system was just about gone. Even the town hall crumbled. Mrs. Thomas would have been delighted.

But Jerome has a history of bouncing back from adversity. Some of the earliest mining entrepreneurs had been skeptical of the prospects there because the ore bodies were so distant from a railroad line. Hence, after the United Verde Mine was organized in 1883, it built its own railroad. The town was named for Eugene Jerome, a New York financier and treasurer of the company. Two major fires in 1898 and 1899 nearly destroyed the entire community, but the town revived. The era of the United Verde Mine ended in 1935 when it was sold for $20.8 million to the Phelps Dodge Corp. Between 1916 and 1937, when it finally ended all operations, the United Verde had produced $150 million in gold, silver, and copper. Phelps Dodge continued to mine the hills until 1953. Once there were 15,000 people living at Jerome, but today there are only about 450, many (LEFT) Mingus Mountain, upon whose Cleopatra Hill the old mining town of Jerome perches, looks down upon rugged Yeager Canyon to the west. (OPPOSITE PAGE) Interstates 17 and 40 meet at Flagstaff, a railroad town at the base of the San Francisco Peaks, which became northern Arizona's commercial of them artists and craftsmen. There's also one hotel, several bed-and-breakfast establishments, and a restaurant called The House of Joy, which was, reputedly, a bordello during the town's heyday. The House of Joy is open only on weekends, and reservations are suggested because, as owner Mary Dempsey says, "We only have six tables and four burners." Like many other mining towns, Jerome was built on a hill. Nothing in the town sits on flat Jerome. "Flag," as it is known to old-timers, and Prescott are linked entirely by paved highway which cuts through picture-postcard high-country scenery. ground. One end of town is about 4,400 feet, the other end is about 5,600 feet, and all levels are laced together by narrow streets. From the center of Jerome, State 89A descends four miles to Clarkdale, where visitors can either take a side trip to the 14th-century cliff dwelling at Tuzigoot National Monument, or turn east (right) and continue 17 miles on 89A through Cottonwood to Sedona. Sedona, the entrance to Oak Creek Canyon, is without doubt one of the Earth's most incredible natural inventions, which explains why it has developed into Tourist Heaven. The town, an assemblage of art galleries, gift shops, restaurants, and resorts, is surrounded by deep red mountains with often fancifully named outcroppings of buttes and spires and pinnacles, something like a massive sand castle built at a beach by a playful child. State 89A slithers through Sedona and narrows as it climbs through the shady forest in Oak Creek Canyon. For a refreshing break, stop at Slide Rock State Park in the heart of the canyon, where soap-smooth boulders have eroded into a narrow chute with cool water running year-round.

Back Road Adventure

At the northern end of the canyon, the road switchbacks up to the fragrant pines and sparkling aspens at Flagstaff, a railroad town built along the base of the San Francisco Peaks, Arizona's highest mountains.

Northern Arizona's major commercial center, Flagstaff is slightly lower than 7,000 feet and looks a lot like Canada, especially in winter when some residents find it easier to get around by snowmobile rather than a car.

Flagstaff also is a city of spacious parks, such as Buffalo and McPherson, where there are numerous mountain bike and walking trails leading up the San Francisco Peaks. It's also home to Northern Arizona University, Lowell Observatory (where the planet Pluto was discovered), and the Museum of Northern Arizona, an essential stopping point for anyone interested in the culture of the Native American tribes that live on nearby reservations.

The entire route from Prescott to Flagstaff is a paved highway through a landscape of great natural beauty. Unlike other back roads in Arizona, this route is never far from civilization and visitor services.

TIPS FOR TRAVELERS

Back-road travel in more remote areas can be hazardous if you are not prepared for the unexpected. Whether traveling in the desert or in the high country, 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 where you're going and when you plan to return.

Like of the Month Right Now's the Time to Trek Storied Cibecue Creek

It's a pleasant summer day hike, wading up a creek bed that winds through steep red rock cliffs with the reward of a secluded 40-foot waterfall at the end. But, no, we couldn't wait until summer, Geno and I. We had to do it the hard way - at the tail end of winter before the icy waters had subsided, and the Arizona sun had sent its warmth.

In summer you can wear flipflops, cooling your heels nearly the entire way in the shallow water. But in winter with ice water plunging over rapids, we knew we'd have to do some scurrying over rocks and steep banks in addition to exposing our lower limbs, and perhaps more, to temperatures that are more suited to frozen daiquiris.

The hike begins where Cibe-cue Creek flows into the Salt River, four miles northeast of the U.S. Route 60 bridge over the Salt, on the San Carlos Indian Reservation. We had stopped at the convenience store north of the bridge to buy permits, and the man who sold them looked at us dubiously and told us to be careful. Only a week before, he said, flood-waters had raged through the narrow valley.

A dirt road winds down past some campsites to the mouth of the creek, but when the "big water" is flowing, it's wiser to park your vehicle a few hundred yards up from the mouth. That's what Geno and I did before testing the water with what we had decided to wear on our feet: hard-soled booties that we ordinarily use for cold water scuba diving. We knew our feet were going to be wet no matter what we wore on them, and we figured booties might keep them just a little warm. Our first step into the stream dispelled any such notion. Before we could cross to the other side, our feet already were aching.

We stuck to the banks at first, but a couple of hundred yards up the creek the canyon narrowed, and we saw what the man at the store meant. Flotsam from the previous high water was stuck on the bushes at about the height of our heads. With rocks and cliffs looming up, we faced a decision that would be repeated at least 20 times: to climb or to wade to the other bank.

After a long look at the steep rocks in front of us, and the hip-deep white water to the side of us, Geno came up with what seemed a viable third choice. "We could go home and come back in two months," he said.

But two hours later, after innumerable bone-numbing crossings of the creek, precariously maintaining our balance with sturdy hiking sticks braced against the current, we arrived in the mist of the falls and looked in awe at the rock walls towering hundreds of feet above us. Shivering in the spray with the sun long gone behind the cliffs, we retreated a few hundred yards to some boulders the size of small houses. Between them were smooth patches of sand to pitch our tent, and the previous floodwaters had stacked enough firewood for a week. It was a magnificent campsite, and a roaring fire took only two hours to thaw our legs.

But really, it was a wonderful hike. Try it. Just don't get cold feet. Do it between May and September.

WHEN YOU GO

To get to the creek from Phoenix, take U.S. 60 to Globe, then U.S. 60/State Route 77 about 30 miles northeast to the bridge crossing the Salt River. From Tucson, follow U.S. 89 north to State 77, which will take you to the bridge. On the north side of the bridge, a gas station-convenience store sells special-use permits for entering the San Carlos Indian Reservation. The fee is $5 per day.

The access road to the Salt River is between the bridge and the convenience store, west side. The creek mouth is 4.2 miles from the highway, with campsites along the way. For a day hike, start before noon. Have footwear for wading and walking. Keep an eye on the weather: heavy rains could prove dangerous.