Across Arizona's Roof - driving the Coronado Trail (US191)

My route

January 5-6, 2017:

In 1540, Don Francisco Vasquez de Coronado led a large expedition (an army) north from Mexico into what is now the United States.  Some scholars believe they crossed the border along the San Pedro River and worked their way northward to the Zuni Pueblos of New Mexico – near present-day Gallup.  They went on from there into what is now Kansas, before returning to Mexico. Along the way they "discovered" the Grand Canyon, much to the surprise of the local inhabitants who had been hoping they'd all fall into it.

One of the routes that is possible (for the Arizona part of their passage) is between Safford, AZ and Springerville, AZ, along the spiny and rugged backbone of far-eastern Arizona.  I am not so sure; in fact, I really doubt it.  While Coronado didn’t have much information about what was in front of him, if he DID take that particular route, it wouldn’t have been possible to find a more difficult one for an army on foot and horseback and driving other livestock along with them.  That journey would have been from desert level up and across extremely rugged mountains that reach almost 10,000 feet MSL (an elevation gain of almost 3,000 meters).  

If Coronado scouted ahead (and why wouldn't he?), while there were no easy routes, there were a couple that would have been less difficult to the west and to the east (the valley route of US180 in New Mexico is one of the routes that would have been somewhat easier for Coronado to have traversed, had he reached it across the desert lands to the E-N-E from the area around Safford).  At any rate, rightly or wrongly, those living in the southwest have always called the route traced today by US191 the “Coronado Trail.”  It is the highway across Arizona’s roof.  I demonstrated great bravery to drive it in mid-winter!  This route was originally numbered as US666, but that designation was abandoned for the new number because of its Christian-satanic implications.  Actually, I think that designation was rather appropriate, although I still find myself drawn to it every few years.

Twisty US191

 It is still very much a wilderness route today.  There are no automobile services along its length for about 90 miles.  It is narrow and extremely twisty, with steep mountain grades at various places.  The beginning (south to north as I drove it on this trip) is at the twin mining towns of Clifton and Morenci, and its end is at the point the road joins US180 at Alpine. Of course I had to get there before I could drive it, so I also included the road to Safford from Phoenix, and the drive home across the Mogollon Rim as part of this narrative.  In past days, the highway was not plowed regularly (if at all) in winter, but they now plow it on weekdays – no nights and no weekends.  We had a couple of storms in late December, so I wasn’t sure in what kind of shape I would find it.

Picket Post Mountain

From the greater Phoenix area, I drove US60 east toward Globe, AZ.  The highway is a divided road, but not controlled access like an interstate or a motorway.  It skirts Arizona’s legendary Superstition Mountains on the south, and starts uphill to higher, more mountainous country as you leave the old mining town of Superior.  Old west history is all around!  Wyatt Earp’s common-law wife, Mattie Blaylock, ended her days near here and is buried in an unknown grave in the old Pinal burying ground nearby.  Pinal was a mining community just a couple of miles from Superior (not the Pinal that exists today), and a lot more people lived out that way in those days than do now.  

Queen Creek Tunnel

The highway starts up the mountain right at the eastern side of downtown Superior and climbs very quickly from desert vegetation to scrub oak on top – at the top of the immediate climb is the Queen Creek tunnel, which when constructed in 1952, made the drive to Miami/Globe much easier and more direct.  It was always a landmark my sisters and I looked forward to when going that direction on road trips - we were always excited about "the tunnel."  Once through the tunnel, the road continues to climb (if less-steeply) and wind its way through and across the Pinal Mountains, through a small community named “Top of the World” (hardly, at only 4500 ft MSL).  Top of the World (originally Camp Pinal, later Pinal Ranch and Craig Ranch) was at various times an Army post (for a short time, until General Crook abandoned it), a dance hall, a ranch, and today is kind of a quirky community of about 200 souls on top of the mountains.  I’ve never stopped that I can remember, but if you are into antiques, there is an antique store there unless things have changed. You can read an account of life at Pinal Ranch in the early part of this century written by Helen Baldock Craig, who moved there in 1928 as a new wife to a rancher.  Among her stories is an account of how an Estey organ made its way from Boston to Globe - and then to the mountain top on a pack mule on trails "hardly wide enough for a horse and rider."  Her story is called "Within Adobe Walls" (and was included in a book entitled Arizona Memories).

Pinto Creek Bridge

Along this very rugged stretch of the road (between Top of the World and Miami), the highway passes over Pinto Creek on a steel arch bridge, high above the deep arroyo.  In 1962, some robbers did a bank job in Phoenix, and fled with a hostage – a bank clerk named William Ward Clore Jr. who had dared to follow them.  It made the newspapers for days – to my knowledge the robbers were never caught so the crime was never solved.  Mr. Clore was never seen alive again and for years it was a mystery as to what had become of him.  In 1967, his bones were found underneath the Pinto Creek Bridge.  He had been murdered and tossed off the bridge – or just tossed off the bridge.  I cannot pass over that bridge without thinking of him.

The Miami/Claypool/Globe area is a pain to get through. It’s about ten miles of road through these community’s business districts at 25-35 mph (ughh!).  It seemingly takes forever, but relax and obey the speed limits – they do actively enforce them.  Anyway, if you haven’t been there before, there are some interesting things to see and do.  There’s the Besh-Be-Gowah ruins (museum) for those interested in ancient cultures.  Also, the old downtown areas (especially Globe’s) are worth a look for the old business-district architecture.  

Globe

When I was little, my Dad always took the US60 route out of Arizona and across New Mexico (rather than US66 from Flagstaff and east).  Back in those days, the mines in Miami/Globe would dump the still-molten by-products of their smelting operation down the sides of the slag heaps (which you can still see above the town as you drive through – like hard-rock mesas).  We’d always pass through late at night, and if they were dumping a load of slag, it was a spectacular sight – like volcanic lava flowing down a mountainside.  They don’t do it that way anymore, I don’t think.

On the eastern side of Globe (finally), my route split off to the southeast (US70) and the other highway (US60) turns off to the northeast toward the Salt River Canyon, the White Mountains and Show Low.  I’m headed that way too – but by a much more circuitous route! US70 goes out across the San Carlos Apache Reservation, not quite in a straight line, but just curvy enough to keep your interest.  San Carlos was where they tried to put the Indians we generally (and incorrectly) call Chiricahuas in the 1870s (along with some other Apachean groups).  But they were “mountain” people and they hated San Carlos - and they didn't like those other Apaches either. While the “Chiricahuas” soon fled (much to the Army’s dismay), some of them ended up staying along with the others and it is a fairly vibrant community today.  I’ve always wanted to attend the San Carlos rodeo at least once - one of the Arizona tribes' biggest economic drivers is ranching and livestock - so they are big with rodeo. 

There are several communities along this stretch of road – San Carlos itself, Peridot, Bylas (named for an Apache leader), Geronimo, Ft Thomas, Pima, Thatcher and Safford. Most of these are Indian communities. There’s not much to do unless there is a rodeo going on – or some other community event perhaps.  But along the way you’ll pass Geronimo, where that infamous hooligan was sent and told to farm along the Gila River. He didn't care much for farming, and he didn’t stay there long (the Indians considered the place to be pestilential) – but a spot on US70 near where he “homesteaded” for that short time is marked by an historical marker just to the east of the community that bears his name.

Arizona road trips are often marked by mountains – our land is scattered with prominent peaks from one end of the state to the other.  These marked the lives of the ancient peoples – and they mark our lives today.  The first one on this drive stands just west of Superior – Picket Post Mountain – a mountain with a memorably distinctive shape (I posted a photo above).

Mt Turnbull

As you drive between San Carlos and Geronimo, your route is dominated by another - Mt Turnbull, to the south and on the other side of San Carlos Lake (which you cannot see from the highway, without taking a short loop-detour).  Mt Turnbull (also called Saddle Mtn by some in frontier times) towers over 8,000 ft msl and is one of those “island” mountains that seems to stand by itself in the middle of nothing. The Indians used to go there to gather mescal in the late summer or fall. They'd roast the pulp from the thickest part of the plant (a type of agave), then ferment it and make an intoxicating drink from it.  Who says they never had any fun!

The mountain was mentioned by travelers as early as 1846 – and had been given an American name before these lands were ceded to the United States.  It is a mystery how that happened.  Some believe the mountain was named for William Turnbull, a “distinguished topographical engineer” [Barnes, Will C. Arizona Place Names. Univ of Arizona Press. 1988].  But if so, who named it? No one seems to know. Mt Graham, nearby, was also given an American name during the Mexican-era.  I have never heard (or read) that there were Spanish or Mexican names for either of them.

Speaking of San Carlos Lake, it was formed by Coolidge Dam and has 158 miles of shoreline.  But how can they say that when there isn't any water in it? Shoreline bespeaks of water, doesn't it? For most of my life, that lake has been mostly empty.  It grows a beautiful crop of weeds and grass most of the time…  Will Rogers once said of it, if it was his lake, he’d mow it.  

Somewhere along this stretch of the road, I once stopped at a roadside gas station (maybe at Bylas, or Geronimo, I don’t remember exactly). Of the things that ride was memorable for, two stand out in that area.  I was on a motorcycle, on exactly the same route as this particular trip.  I had left Phoenix wearing cut-offs, on a sunny summer day.  I am extremely fair-skinned – but I was only going to wear the shorts long enough to get a little bit of a “tan.”  Unfortunately, by the time I noticed it was time to don my blue jeans, it was way too late - the "slight pink" color soon gave way to "lobster red." That was the most memorable sunburn I ever had, and I burned through the skin to the muscle beneath.  It was so bad, my doctor told me if I ever did it again, I could lose my legs.  As it happened - I had to use crutches to walk for a couple of weeks. It made the remainder of that ride quite a misery.

The other thing (much more pleasant), was at that little gas station where I stopped; they still had a Coca-Cola vending machine that dispensed the little 8 oz glass bottles!  They were about 25 cents each, icy cold, and I drank TWO of them.  Had I known those were the last 8 oz Cokes I would ever see (with the original Coke formula) I would have kept a third one as a souvenir.

This trip, I stopped in Safford, which sits in the Gila Valley below massive Mt Graham for a quick lunch, then topped off my gas tank and turned onto US191 about 10 miles east of town.  Mt Graham is memorable in my memories for (1) incessant August rains while trying to camp and have fun and (2) late night screaming of mountain lions and bears scratching around camp looking for food, while my Mom and sister and I cowered in a borrowed tent. 

Past Safford and the turn-off onto US191, the road starts to climb through the Black Hills, makes a turn at Three Way, and winds its way first into Clifton, then Morenci. Clifton is on the banks of the beautiful little San Francisco River.  These are mining towns – I am sure the open pit copper mine at Morenci is one of the largest in the world.  According to Wikipedia, there is only one larger (in Chile).  The mine was founded in 1872; unlike many of the other large Arizona copper mines, it has operated pretty much continuously since then. The huge scale of it is mind-numbing.

US191 & the Black Hills

 

I was looking for lodging as I drove into town.  I had intended to make the drive north on the Coronado Trail before stopping for the night in Alpine or Springerville, but since I was slower and later than I originally intended, it would have gotten dark somewhere in between.  There would have been no point in driving it at night – my goal was sightseeing and enjoying the driving.  It would also have been an even more dangerous drive than it already was (although I didn’t know that yet).  I decided to stop for the night and then go on up US191, the “twistiest highway in America” the next morning – on what I hoped would be both dry pavement and bright sunlight.  

There are only two motels in the whole area.  The first, on the south side of Clifton, didn’t look all that great; it was a bit trashy. I found another in Morenci, although I almost went past it because it didn’t look like a motel at all.  But it had a restaurant, wasn’t too expensive and I discovered the room was clean, so I stopped there.  Called the Morenci Motel, it is across the street from the Basha’s supermarket.  The restaurant had very good food, and friendly service.  It is a “family” place, so was pretty noisy with kids running around. The room also had a satellite TV - which was great because I forgot to take a book. In hindsight, I am really happy I found it and could stop -- trying to drive the Coronado Trail in its present icy condition and at night would have ruined my trip. 

Morenci Mine

I went to sleep early, and got on the way the next morning.  I was hoping for another sunny day, but to the north above the mountains I could see some storm clouds not too far away.  The road starts climbing immediately and wasn’t too bad to start with, although it was so windy I could hardly open the truck’s door against it to get out to take pictures.  The temperature was about 39 degrees F at this lower end.  The next 90 miles is all steeply-graded mountain highway – there are no towns, no gas stations, and only one restaurant/lodge (in the pines at Hannagan Meadow).  There is one state highway dept maintenance yard on the route.  There is no cell signal. So you're very much on your own. As I started up the road, it was blustery-stormy with a light misty rain that at times was freezing rain.  There was little traffic – in the first 25 miles I encountered maybe 3 other vehicles.  There were no cars – only 4wd trucks.  The road climbs and winds and climbs, and tops out eventually at about 9,300 feet in the Blue Mountain wilderness area. 

US191 above Morenci

On top - about 6,000 ft msl

The terrain on top is some of the prettiest scenery in Arizona – especially as you climb through about 6,000 feet; it is very beautiful golden grassland with mountains all around, but of course would be green in the summer months.  This area is where BLM has released grey wolves to reintroduce them. I'm sure the wolves think it is heaven on earth - but do not bother to ask the local ranchers how they feel about it; their opinion is mostly uncomplimentary. 

Intermittently, the road had snow on the edges, but it was thin and more like frost, so it wasn’t slippery at all (at the southern end of the route).  Of course, you had to think it might get slippery at any point, so the driving was cautiously slow.  I drove most of the route at about 25 mph, right down the center stripe to avoid the more-icy edges, but even that was too fast at some points; some of the hairpin turns are no quicker than 5 or 10 mph even when dry - and there are approximately 400 of them.

Mountains in the clouds

By the time I reached the top, the air temperature had dropped to between 29 and 35 degrees (in different places).  The sky was partly to mostly cloudy, but there was a lot of sunshine too (depending on where I was at the time).  As I reached the highest points, the clouds were right down on the mountainsides. Eventually, the road became snow packed, but it was still mostly thin (no more than three or four inches) and while I encountered a little bit of ice occasionally, for the most part the road surface was easily drive-able. Had I known the condition of the road before attempting it, I probably would not have gone this way. I made it OK, but I wouldn't have taken the risk on such a road if I had known about it.  I could just as easily have driven the US180 valley route across the border in New Mexico.  It's pretty too. 

I worried the entire distance that it would become impassable and I would have to go back, but that didn’t happen.  The risky part is that the drop-offs on the roadsides are very steeply hundreds, even thousands of feet in some cases – and there are no guard rails.  I tried not to think about that and kept my driving slow and smooth, smooth, smooth. Remember, this is nothing to complain about, I took this route deliberately.  I’d never driven it in winter before – wasn’t even sure I could.

9,300 feet msl 

Once on top, I began to encounter other vehicles – mostly people out in big 4wd monstrosities to play in the snow.  I even saw some RVs where people were up there camping!  Why, I don’t know, the temperature was 29 degrees.  That’s not my idea of fun. Many of these fools were driving their trucks on these icy mountain roads at speeds way beyond anything reasonable. Enough about that, you encounter those kind everywhere. On this road, when one came up behind me, I immediately yielded the road to them so they could get around and speed away if they chose to do that. I kept my stress-level low!

I only saw two critters along the way – both birds.  First, I couldn’t believe I saw a blue-jay fluttering in the trees beside the highway.  You cannot mistake a Jay – they are very distinctive.  So my question is, don’t they fly south for the winter?  Crazy bird!  Then, much farther north, between Hannagan Meadow and Alpine, I think I saw an eagle – a big eagle.  I say I think, because I didn’t get a good look at it (it was launching from the ground into flight and I mostly saw it with my peripheral vision) and it could have been a buzzard.  But it was a large bird and I choose to believe it was an eagle.  It was too big to be a hawk.

Red Mountain Lookout

In the middle of the route, maybe about half-way, I stopped for a break at the Red Mountain Fire Interpretive wayside.  There is a lookout there and the view is magnificent.  So Red Mountain is the next mountain marking my road trip journey!  My map says it is 8,154 ft msl.  That’s not much higher than the surrounding terrain – it’s all very high country.  I’m not exaggerating when I call this Arizona’s “roof.”  There’s often snow in this area even in the summer months.  Also visible from the wayside was Blue Mountain, and some others, all indicated on interpretive plaques so you could visually pick them out on the horizon. As you can see in the photo, this was one section of the road where the snow was thinner.  But just a little farther on...

Little bit of snow...

Little white truck

Continuing on past Hannagan Meadow (which was open, but I didn't stop), the road descends slightly from Beaverhead into Alpine.  I don’t think Beaverhead is anything more than a junction – I didn’t even note it as I passed by.  There isn’t much of a descent either, this is all high country.  In the summer, it is a desert-dwellers paradise -- “they” (the locals) call us “flat-landers.”  Everyone in the two hot metro areas goes up there to camp, fish, hike, hunt, etc. in the cool mountain air.  Hannagan Meadow was built in 1926 and has operated continuously year-around since then.  This highway was dedicated there (you can still see the memorial plaque).  The lodge has rooms and cabins and the rates are reasonable - it was one of my mother's favorite places in Arizona.

Alpine

At Alpine, the highway joins with US180, and the Coronado Trail ends.  To the right, between there and Springerville, is Escudilla Mountain.  At almost 11,000 feet, Escudilla is one of the tallest in Arizona.  It is also the location of the last known Grizzly Bear kill in Arizona. They were common here at one time, but the last one was shot on the mountain in the mid to late 1930s; there has never been one seen here after that.  Alpine was an LDS settlement from about the 1870s; it has never had more than a couple of hundred residents.  It is the "highest" farming community in the United States.

Escudilla Mtn

In Springerville, I turned onto US60 for the next leg to Show Low.  There are two routes possible – one on the Rim in the pine trees (US260), or the other (US60) across the plateau through ranch and grass lands.  The latter is my favorite – it is a very scenic drive from which you can see great distances in all directions.  On the southern horizon for part of this leg you can see Mt Baldy, standing 11,470 ft – and the 2^nd tallest mountain in the state behind Humphrey’s Peak at Flagstaff.  Baldy doesn’t look like much, just a bald knob slightly higher than its surroundings, but like I said, this is all very high country.  More officially, the mountain is named Mt Thomas (after a frontier-era major general).  I don’t know where the name Baldy came from – but I’ve never heard it called Mt. Thomas before… (but that's from Arizona Place Names so it must be correct).

From Show Low, it was all about getting home.  I was undecided about route – my choices were US60 down to Globe and on into Phoenix on that highway, or (2) SR260 across the Mogollon Rim to Payson and south to Scottsdale on SR87, or even a third alternative, SR260 to Payson, then north on SR87 and across to Camp Verde, then down to Phoenix on I-17.  The last would have been my choice except it would have taken an extra hour – so I chose SR87 from Payson to Phoenix.

From Show Low to Payson on SR260, you’re running on top of the Mogollon Rim for a good part of the way, then it drops off and down from the Rim between Forest Lakes and Christopher Creek.  The first part is through scrubby terrain and forest-fire-damaged areas, but eventually you are in what's left of Arizona’s old growth Ponderosa pine forest.  It’s a pretty drive, and some of it has been divided. From Payson south, while not interstate, the road is super-highway, down through Rye and the Tonto Basin, past Mt Ord and Sunflower, and finally Four Peaks and the Superstition Mtns off to the left as you cover the last miles toward Fountain Hills or Mesa. As I passed Rye, in the beautiful Tonto Basin with all it's old west and Zane Grey history, I thought it to be my ultimate goal in life to own an old-time western saloon there, complete with a rag-time piano-player!  Alas, I will never realize that particular dream.

Mt Ord, Reno Pass & SR87

Climbing out of the Tonto Basin, through Reno Pass, you’ll have one of Arizona’s Mt Ord(s) off to your left (there are two).  There was an Army camp here (Camp Reno) and 40 years ago, you could still see the remnants of old mining activities dotting the hillsides in the pass.  None are visible from the highway today (that I know of).  When General Nelson Miles took over the campaign against the Apaches from General Crook, he created a system of heliographs to speed communications between the Army posts in the southwest.  One of his heliograph stations was atop this Mt Ord – there’s still a lot of communications equipment up there today – so things haven’t changed much.  The heliograph system used the sun and mirrors to relay messages in Morse code – the Army’s version of smoke signals I guess.  Quick communication was vital if you were going to catch fast-moving marauding Apaches.

South of Mt Ord and Sunflower, the terrain becomes predominantly piles of large boulders.  I was once told by a geology professor at Scottsdale Community College that those boulders had been the top of a mountain once – the mountain we now call Four Peaks exploded like Mt St Helens at one pre-historic time – and scattered its top all over present-day Gila County.  The Apaches’ name for Four Peaks was “Mazatzal,” (or something phonetically similar) which translates as “the spaces between,” referring to the gaps between the four peaks.

Weaver's Needle

After passing Four Peaks, the Superstition Mtns are off to your left.  The most distinctive features of these mountains are the ramparts at the western end, and Weaver’s Needle to the east.  Both of these are easily seen from SR87 as you approach Fountain Hills.  As you may know, the Superstitions are steeped in legends of a fabulous gold mine (or a cache of nearly-pure gold at least).  The only white person who knew of the exact location was a German (or a “Dutchman”), who only told one person about the location before he died – his house-keeper.  The legend has it that he had been shown the location of the gold by his Indian girlfriend, a young woman name Kinte.  According to the story, she was killed by her own people when they found out she had told him of the "mine's" location. Many believe the mean-spirited old man (Jacob Walz) was just telling stories about it – but his description to his house-keeper was that his “mine” lay in the “4 o’clock shadow of Weaver’s Needle.”  It is thought that Weaver's Needle was named for Paulino Weaver, the famed "mountain man."

Verde River

Just northeast of Fountain Hills, you cross the Verde River.  This river drains the entire central Arizona region – and joins with the Salt and then the Gila (which drain most of the rest of it), then flows into the Colorado River at Yuma – if it still flowed at all.  Most of it has been diverted into irrigation canals by the Salt River Project for about the past 100 years.  The Verde though, still flows year-around (as does the upper-Salt), and at one time was a favorite picnic spot and water playground for many of us in Phoenix.  We still “float the river” on inner tubes in the summertime.  My earliest memory of picnicking with my whole family (as a very young child) was along the banks of the Verde in the mid-1950s.

From SR87 at Fountain Hills, I took the Shea Blvd “cut-off” across the McDowell Mtns into North Scottsdale, and home.  My route covered right about 555 miles in a loop – much of it at very low speeds.  It took about a day and a half, all together.

Keep the shiny side up (and between the fenceposts)!    
Bob