The Magic Gate - Part 1
Four Corners Region
Arizona Highways - Colorado Sunsets
In ’65, I was seventeen. That spring, after
perusing an issue of Arizona Highways Magazine, my father asked if I
would accompany him on a road trip to the Four Corners states of
Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado and Utah. I jumped at the chance.
In August 1965, we departed Los Angeles in our 1964 Ford Galaxy 500 XL,
2-door, hardtop. The only equipment lacking on our Ford was an
overflow tank for the superheated coolant that spewed past the radiator
at each stopping point in the desert.
Early on, while traveling to summer camp, I had seen parts of the Mojave Desert
from a school bus window. My other desert experience consisted of
viewing Walt Disney’s 1953 film, “The Living Desert”. After viewing
Disney’s documentary, I abandoned my belief that all deserts were
inhospitable places, better left to the likes of the Twenty Mule Team
from Borax.
Over forty years ago, as our trip progressed, new
sections of Interstate Highway rapidly replaced or bypassed The Mother
Road, Old Route 66. Whether it was on Old-66 or new I-40, my first
taste of desert heat was in Needles, California. There, an outdoor thermometer read 117 degrees. To me, the town “Needles” and the word “needless” had a lot in common.
From Needles, both Route 66 and I-40 crossed the Colorado River, and then ran north towards Kingman, Arizona.
Ironically, Old-66 took the shorter, if steeper route. In contrast,
I-40 ran east for many miles before turning north. The road from
Kingman to Flagstaff,
Arizona was like a 150-mile slow-motion roller coaster ride. From
Needles, our overall elevation gain was almost 7000 feet. In the same
spirit that their ancestors joined the Saints in the old Utah Territory
or explored the African savannah, contemporary Europeans seek the open
spaces of the Southwest. Studies indicate that humans, regardless of
their origin, choose open grasslands and wide vistas over any other
idealized environment. In my memory, Flagstaff consisted of nothing
more than one grade crossing and a nearby railroad station. Since then,
Flagstaff has transformed itself into a major city, now utilizing Winslow, Arizona, sixty miles to the east as its more affordable suburb.
Four Corners
Remembering our 1965 trip engenders in me nostalgia
for a bygone era. Interestingly, people from outside the U.S. seem to
share that nostalgia. In particular, the British, Dutch, Germans and
Scandinavians arrive here by the thousands each summer. Often, they
rent motor homes, bent on rediscovering
In
1965, the combined population of Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado and Utah
was about seven million. New Mexico then topped Utah by sixty
thousand. Today, the Four Corners has a population of almost eighteen
million. Utah now outpaces New Mexico by seven hundred thousand.
Suffice to say the Four Corners supports eleven million more people
today than in 1965.
“Flag”,
as the locals call it, etched a visual imprint on my mind. I can still
see what I call the Magic Gate, where South Beaver Street crossed the
main line of the Santa Fe Railroad.
In my memory, Flagstaff consisted of nothing more than one grade
crossing and a nearby railroad station. Since then, Flagstaff has
transformed itself into a major city, now utilizing Winslow, Arizona, sixty miles to the east as its more affordable suburb. South of there, at Snowflake, lived World Citizen, Kathy Hemenway.
From Flag, we headed east on Santa Fe Avenue, better known as Old-66, only to discover that the Mother Road
was being replaced by I-40. From Flagstaff, the Santa Fe rail line
took the most direct route east, turning only when necessary to follow
the easiest grade. Likewise, Old-66 and I-40 share almost identical
routes, closely following the tracks. The result is that the same
Petrified Forest, Native American trading posts and historic motels that we saw in 1965 still lie adjacent to the current highway.
At Gallup, New Mexico
we drove east on Old-66 towards downtown. Featuring substantial
brick buildings, it was a regional center for trade and tourism.
Traveling down that same road today reveals a scene little changed since
1965. All along I-40, older towns have remained in place, with new
construction occurred at either end of town.
From Gallup, we drove north on Old U.S. Highway
666. With the Devil’s popularity in contemporary American culture, the
moniker “Highway 666” tempted many. Not withstanding the risk of “going
to hell” for stealing highway
signs, travelers made illegal souvenirs of Old-666 markers. In 2003,
New Mexico, Colorado and Utah gave up the fight, changing the road’s
designation to the benign but meaningless “U.S. Highway 491”. Ironically, new highway signposts often have “Old Highway 666” signs attached just below their new Highway 491 signs.
Each afternoon, for the duration of our trip we experienced the gift of rainfall, either in the form of desert thunderstorms
or mountain showers. In the late 1960s, American pilots returning
from Vietnam to airbases in the Southwest recognized a similarity to the
pattern of rain they had seen in Southeast Asia. “Monsoon”, a word
with Dutch, Portuguese and Arabic origins thus made its way into our
weather lexicon.
Durango
Since its establishment in the 1880s, Durango, Colorado
has nestled itself into the narrows of the Upper Animas River Valley.
On our 1965 visit, the town had not yet expanded beyond its original
borders. Today, a regional shopping center featuring Wal-Mart and Home
Depot greets travelers arriving from Aztec, New Mexico in the south.
Durango
is a year-round tourist destination. To the chagrin of prospective
homeowners, cash-buyers swooped in during the early 2000s. Durango’s
high prices now send the budget-minded to nearby Bayfield or Mancos.
During a recent visit to Canyon De Chelly, Arizona, we spoke with a
Native American artist, selling his works there. Each week, he commuted
two hundred and forty miles, to work on construction jobs in
Durango.
During the 1960s, the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad
was in transition. Construction gangs upgraded the gravel roadbed and
then laid heavier rails. Those improvements support the larger, more
powerful locomotives seen on the rail line today. As old as they
appear, the current engines represent relatively modern designs, when
compared to the originals. The upgraded railroad helped carry the
cities of Durango and Silverton through their transition from a mining,
farming and ranching economy into today’s recreation and tourist-based
economy.
With Durango’s gentrification came new residents who
did not appreciate steam locomotives in nearby barns, puffing coal
smoke into the night air. A recent Durango Herald letter to the editor asked that the locomotives
extinguish their fireboxes each night, so that nearby residents could
sleep in peace and clean air. Old wags pointed out that one could not
restart a locomotive each day as if it were a diesel engine. The
general sentiment in the community was, “if you do not like coal smoke,
move elsewhere”.
Read Part 2 of this five-part story about the Four Corner States.
By James McGillis at 03:03 PM | Travel | Comments (0) | Link