Articles

A single dried blade of grass floats down Beaver Creek. Clear, mirror-still water reflects cottonwoods along the far bank, and displays moss-covered rocks on the sun-streaked creek bed. Small riffles…

Jack Dykinga scared the hell out of me. I grew up in a three-newspaper household in a four-newspaper town. Maybe I didn’t pay quite as much attention to bylines as to box scores, but journalists…

I’ve been interested in astronomy all my life. Growing up in the United Kingdom, I had a small telescope, and I remember running to tell my parents that I had seen Sputnik 1 passing over us. But…

Beneath the Dragoon Mountains, down a primitive forest road lined with pistachio trees and scattered homesteads, sits the 40-acre Cochise Stronghold Ranch. There, Kalen Pearson, an Arizona Raptor…

Bill Barry’s heart has always been in Phoenix — even during the rare times when the rest of him wasn’t. And Phoenix is in him, from his sun-kissed skin to his hat with a picture of a cactus taped to…

Norman G. Wallace Photographed: Early 1930s Norman G. Wallace wasn’t a photographer by trade, but in his decades of work for what later became the Arizona Department of…

                  Like every great magazine, Arizona Highways measures up because of the incredible men and women on our masthead. But we couldn’t do what we do without…

Frank Zullo has a flair for the dramatic. He’s a photog­rapher by trade, which is pretty normal. But otherwise, he’s out there — a cross between Galileo and Indiana Jones. As you’ll see, Zullo is…