Back Road Adventure

BACK ROAD ADVENTURE Discover the Desert's Harsh Beauty on Mohave County's 17-Mile Road

Seventeen-Mile Road is such a little-known route that it appears on only the most detailed maps. That's what photographer Randy Prentice and I liked about it.

We had cruised our share of "touristy" back roads, those supposedly remote routes that ultimately turn out to be familiar favorites of back-roaders.Seventeen-Mile Road, which winds through the high-desert country of Mohave County to the lush riparian corridor of the Big Sandy River, was no such boondocks thoroughfare.

Happily, for all its seeming obscurity, the road itself is easy enough to find and is usually accessible to two-wheel-drive vehicles with reasonable clearance. As with many unpaved routes, parts of the road may be impassable after storms have filled dry washes in the riverbed.

To reach Seventeen-Mile Road, drive the 57 miles northwest on U.S. Route 93 from the intersection of Tegner and Wickenburg Way in downtown Wickenburg. The signed turnoff is to the left at Milepost 143, and you're immediately on dirt. Randy had come across Seventeen-Mile Road on an outing from nearby Burro Creek Campground, and I had checked our route with Bureau of Land Management wilderness specialist Bruce Asbjorn, whose agency manages much of the land along the road.

Randy and I savored a leisurely journey along the road on a mid-April afternoon when spring was inciting a riot of color on the rolling desert landscape at an elevation of about 3,000 feet. Spring, with the river flowing and the landscape blooming, is definitely the time to be here in this otherwise harsh desert land.

Bright-yellow brittlebush, purple lupines, and the shocking pink blooms of hedgehog cactuses caught the eye as Randy piloted the pickup at a pace favored by travelers who want to see sights instead of a blur of scenery.

A rich mix of vegetation including paloverde trees, saguaros, ocotillos, creosote bushes, yuccas, and even a few juniper trees backed up the blooming plants with myriad shades of green.

About four miles into the drive, we passed a large windmill and a cattle holding pen on the left. It's around here that the natural desert gardens south of the road gave way to a wonderland of rock formations. Steep slabs, enormous boulders (including a precariously balanced giant on the left that someone dubbed Fish Face Rock), humps, lumps, and jutting minimonoliths triggered a sort of photographicautonomic response in Randy. He jammed on the brakes, leapt out, and began scouting the area for the ideal site to exercise his itchy shutter finger. The scene was sublime, but the light, Randy determined, would be at its best sometime in the half hour before sunrise the next day. He promised to awaken me well before dawn at our Burro Creek campsite so that I could enjoy the spectacle as he photographed it.

We hopped back into the truck and motored on at savorthe-sights speed.

We passed the Poachie Range, stubby mountains that mound up to a bit over 4,000 feet north of the road. Our topographic maps showed the area to be dotted with mine shafts and mineral prospecting holes.

South of the road, the vast undeveloped reaches of the Arrastra Mountain Wilderness Area promised hiking adventures for another day. The BLM's Bruce Asbjorn had told us that the 129,800-acre Wilderness is one of the largest roadless areas in Arizona. It is home to populations of desert mule deer, mountain lions, javelinas, coyotes, and a reptilian Who's Who of lizards and snakes. At 5.8 miles, we came to a sign informing us this was the end of the county road maintenance section. We proceeded "at our own risk," angling to the right.

Randy and I stopped here and there, admiring everything from the fingernail-size blooms of plants we couldn't identify to far-horizon vistas of the Arrastra Wilderness. And we kept careful track of our mileage along each segment of the journey because, of course, we wanted to learn the significance of the road's name. Would it end in 17 miles? Would it arrive at the site of the community of Signal in 17 miles? According to our maps, the site seemed to be accessible by way of another dirt road coming in from U.S. 93 northwest of Seventeen-Mile Road. Would these roads link up near Signal? We wondered.

We drove on with an eye on the odometer. Oh, if things would always work out tidily. They don't. At 13.3 miles, we came to a three-way fork and took the middle one. When the odometer showed we had driven 13.7 miles, our road intersected with a track labeled Signal Road. We continued left on Signal Road, which provides access to the scattered houses of perhaps two-dozen ranchers and retirees living in the area. About 15 miles into the drive, our passage was blocked by the beautiful wide-flowing Big Sandy River. BLM officer Don Simonis and officials of the Mohave County Roads Department later would explain to me that SeventeenMile Road does, indeed, connect with a road providing an alternative access to the Signal site from U.S. 93. Together the roads form a loop drive of about 30 miles. But that connection, the officials emphasized, is broken during and after periods of heavy flow in the Big Sandy River. The name "Seventeen-Mile Road," according to agency officials and residents of the area, derives from the fact that it leads roughly 17 miles from the highway to an area of residences beyond the Big Sandy River. We weren't bothered by a bit of ambiguity. We'd wandered enough back roads to know that directions vary, distances are often approximate, and road courses sometimes change over the years. For our purposes, the road ended at the Big Sandy. And what better terminus and turnaround point? The riverbank turned out to be a pleasing, punctuating dead-end, the cool, green reward at the end of a desertcountry road in the full flush of spring. We spent a splendid relaxing hour wandering the stony banks and thickly shrubbed benches above the watercourse. Water-loving birds swooped over the river and flitted among nearby chalky cliffs. Late-afternoon sunlight painted pleasing patterns in mossy pools at water's edge. Reluctantly we piled back into the pickup and retraced our 15-mile journey over Seventeen-Mile Road, reviewing the day's sights in reverse. When we hit U.S. 93, we turned left (northwest) and drove 1.6 miles to the turnoff to Burro Creek Campground, between Mileposts 141 and 140. Along the way, Randy reminded me of how early we'd be getting up the next morning to take advantage of the exquisite light of sunrise. I began formulating my excuses for sleeping late.

TIPS FOR TRAVELERS

Seventeen-Mile Road can be found in the Arizona Atlas & Gazetteer (page 47). For further information on the road and land ownership in the area, contact the Bureau of Land Management in Kingman at (520) 757-3161. Back road travel 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. Odometer readings in the story may vary by vehicle.