Recently, we did some serious road-tripping across Europe, but we’ve been neglecting our corner of the woods here in Arizona, so it was time to head out and retrace some steps. Back on August 12, 2001, we drove out from home towards Wickenburg to explore some roads we’d not driven on before. These days, that’s almost impossible due to our diligence in keeping track of what roads we’d driven so that on our next venture out, we’d hit a new road or two. Our map is now mostly full of black traces that followed our travels, and then in 2010, we started a new map of Arizona to revisit a bunch of places we’d not been to in nearly ten years. Well, the Grand Canyon rafting trip, authoring a book, a couple of trips to Europe, a couple more trips up to Alaska for some white water rafting up there, and it seems like we neglected our own backyard. Today, we broke that cycle.
The strange look and Caroline’s laughter came about after more than a dozen attempts to get a properly lit photograph in the car. We used to take selfies (mostly when driving), and they mostly turned out; today, I was having serious issues with them turning out too dark. Maybe things were complicated by the fact that I was using a lens not used for this type of photo, as I’m being relegated to using a 10-22mm super-wide-angle lens as my 17-55mm f/2.8 is over in California with Canon getting repaired after nearly falling to bits during our trip to Europe last month. So, without further ado, come with us to retrace a leg of that 2001 trip as we also get to add a short bit of Arizona road we’ve never traveled on before.
We’d been through Wickenburg prior to 2001 on a trip to Las Vegas, where we also got our first Arizona speeding ticket somewhere in the mid-’90s, but today, we were looking to leave Highway 93 as we had 17 years prior, and before that turn-off, we needed to stop at Hassayampa River Preserve. Just as we did back then, we stopped by to peek inside and realized that we needed to make a proper visit. During that stop, we did not have time to properly explore the place so we made a mental note to return someday. It turned out that we came back the next week, on August 19, 2001, on the way to Lake Havasu, Oatman, and Williams. I don’t think we’ll be back in a week this time, but we would certainly like to explore the place again.
An on-again-off-again tradition of stopping at the Tastee Freez in Wickenburg for a soft serve. Even at 10:30 in the morning, when the temperature is over 90 degrees, you only have so much time to start eating your ice cream before it drips all over your hand.
Our turn-off was supposed to take us to Congress, and sure enough, it did, but not the Congress, Arizona, we knew. Seventeen years ago, we passed a small trading post, a defunct hotel, a veggie/junk stand, and a building that stood right here called the Congress Mercado. Due to the lack of much of anything else besides the railroad tracks across the street, we had the impression that these four buildings made up Congress and that it was a ghost town. Well, it turns out there are a bunch of buildings across the tracks and more population than we’d realized. There is some new construction and even a restaurant that we got a recommendation for from the ranger at the Hassayampa River Preserve called Nichols West Restaurant run by an English guy who is supposed to make a great sandwich. Another place was put on the list for a future visit.
Well, the Green Frog Rock is still there on the side of the road, phew.
Driving up the mountain to higher elevations and hopefully cooler weather. That’s a feedlot right in front of us in the distance, while Congress is off the right of center.
We weren’t sure what we’d find here in Yarnell as back in 2013, almost to the day, 19 firefighters lost their lives battling a fire called the Yarnell Hill Fire. The town and the surrounding areas have recovered visually, though I’m sure the scars of losing the majority of the Granite Mountain Hotshots still weigh on many people in the community.
As I wrote about that past from 17 years ago, the hotel is long closed, and I wondered how long the sign would last. Well, part of it is gone, and the paint is mostly gone, too. I don’t know why it’s sad to see this kind of stuff fade away, but it is.
Up to Kirkland, we find that the town post office is now long closed, but the Kirkland Bar & Steakhouse and Hotel is still open.
Sadly we couldn’t get a steak as they don’t start serving those until 4:00 p.m., but we were able to get a couple of German sausages with peppers and onions and a small salad. Herb, the owner and rancher, along with having been a former miner down in Bisbee, Arizona, has been at this for about 27 years now and is looking for someone to buy his place that’s on the National Historic Register. I’d still like to try a steak up here someday.
Following our original itinerary, we are now driving through Skull Valley. Nice to see the General Store is still open, but the full-service gas station across the road that was open back during our first visit seems to now be a gift shop with one decorative old-timey pump on display instead of three real working old pumps at the ready. Everything changes.
Jerome has certainly changed over the years. Back in 1981, on my first visit, there was nearly nothing still open in this old mining town that, in many ways, was a ghost town. There was the old and fairly run-down Ghost City Inn that has been renovated three times since then, but back in the early ’80s, it was easy to simply pass through town and continue down the hill.
Today, Jerome is a hopping destination enlivened with a ton of restaurants, wine tasting, art boutiques, and live music, while on busier days, you’ll be hard-pressed to find parking.
This is toward the end of town, where we found parking. On these two one-way streets up the hill, you’ll find the majority of Jerome’s establishments perched on the steep terrain. While the bordellos are long gone, the character of this old mining town lives on in the slice of Bohemia the locals are keeping alive.
At the beginning of this blog entry, I wrote of a small bit of road we’ll explore that we’ve never been on. This is but one corner of the 11 miles of steep and narrow dirt road with minor washboards that we had to climb into the mountains to a small “town” we’d never even heard of.
Over a hundred years ago, Cherry was a stop on the old stagecoach route between Prescott and Fort Verde. Today, it is a picturesque retreat I don’t think many people even know exists. While there’s supposed to be a Cherry Springs Water company up here, we couldn’t find any sign of it, though the Cherry Creek Lodge is open in its idyllic corner of the world. While on the pricey side, starting at $100 a night, they are the only lodging for miles around, and if solitude is what you are looking for, it will certainly be found here.
Update: by 2023, the property was no longer a BnB but is now a lodge, and the rates start at $290 a night with a minimum two night stay.
The cemetery is towards the end of town (if you come up the dirt road to the north instead of the recommended paved road to the south as we did), and next to it is the volunteer fire department. There are maybe a couple few dozen homes up here and it is beautiful.
Down in Black Canyon City, we stopped for dinner next to the freeway for some BBQ, and as expected, it was pretty mediocre. The day though, was spectacular, and it was great to step away from the computers, synthesizers, and looms that too easily become routines hard to break out of.
