Let us never speak of the shortcut again (Arizona edition)

 

Radio telescopes of the Very Large Array.

“U.S. routes usually don’t get too crazy,” I even said to myself when scanning that the map. With no cell reception in Chiracahua country, I had to rely on Rand McNally. It showed me a scenic route 

From Safford, the highway climbed into the mountains. Everything narrowed at Clifton, with the town wedged into a canyon formed by the San Francisco River, a tributary of the Gila. Trucks hauled huge loads through Clifton and traffic stopped repeatedly. After Clifton and its stately but rundown old buildings, the road grew strange indeed. 

Morenci Mine on Google Earth

At one turn the sign said 191/Mine Entrance. I expected a fenced area that led into mountains. I expected might see the tunnel leading into the mine. 

But nothing can prepared visitors for the Morenci Mine. The largest copper mine in the country has produced 3.2 billion tons of copper ore and continues to produce from its shaved mountains and open pit. This was no hole under the Earth; the entire landscape has been resculpted into terraced, trapezoidal mountains. The road turned to gravel , clouds of dust sent up by heavy machinery everywhere. 

I passed several other highway tunnels as the road soared above the man-carved valleys of the mine. Signs warned of hours-long delays when blasting occurs, and I added a few mph to my speed. I looked around and saw the inverse of a national park. 

There was a certain beauty to the mine, even with its mountains reshaped by industry, treeless valleys and inclines, and clear tailing ponds with water definitely not for drinking. But we all use copper daily, so it’s necessary evil. Better it sits deep in a remote mountain range where most will never encounter those winding, dusty roads. 

Coronado Scenic Byway, all 460 hairpin turns.

The road wound around geometrical crimson mountains. There might have been an overlook, but I wouldn’t have considered stopping. 

The end of the mine and the rough road had to be close. The wildness of the Morenci Mine came to a swift end at the Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest boundary. Certain industries worked in national forests but not mines. Yet the winding road did not unwind. I hit the first of several signs warning of mountain grades and tight curves for the next few dozen miles. 

I happened onto the Coronado Trail Scenic Byway that spans the 123 miles between Clifton and Springerville. The highway roughly follows the path of Coronado's 1542 expedition. The map showed a scenic route, but left out the 460 hairpin turns that define the route. 

Near Hannagan Meadow, past the worst curves.

Miles clicked down so slowly the distance almost seemed to go back up at times. The Apache portion encompasses most of Greenlee County (Arizona has massive counties) and the main route skirts across ridgetops and clings to mountainsides. 

Aside from squirrels and a few deer I countered little wildlife and not a single car headed in my direction. This continued for several hours till I passed I took a break the Blue Vista Overlook, With expansive views of the mountains from 9,000 feet of elevation, I never even lifted my camera, just enjoying a few minutes off the road. 

I caught glimpses of tremendous views from the byway, one of Arizona’s highest roads, but mostly glue my eyes to the road. AAA was not venturing up here for a tow. 

Only at Hannagan Meadow, a recreation site with some lodging, did the curves straighten out. The road fell into the valleys between mountains and I cruised into long-awaited Springerville, which had occupied every distance sign for 150 miles. A spur road put me out on the town’s east side, I turned to rip off the last 15 miles before New Mexico. The towns don’t get better in New Mexico, even as the names do. Quemado had a few cross-streets and not much more. 

But the next town of a few blocks had an unforgettable name - Pie Town. Enduring the wilderness route was partly to connect with the route to Pie Town. I had to see this trip. 

Named for a bakery famous for apple pies in the early 1900s, Pie Town has less than 200 residents. Pie Town spans several blocks atop a hill. I just missed their annual Pie Festival in mid-September. Just getting to Pie Town felt like a victory this day. 

I pulled into The Gathering Place with a major appetite and the relief of having 400-some hairpin turns behind me. Along with a chipotle chicken sandwich and a cup of coffee, I bought pies for the balloon crew tailgate the next morning – apple, blueberry, and blackberry lemon. But I had the last piece of peach pie on my own. 

After Datil, the road crosses some mountains then descends into a dried lake bed, the Plains of San Augustin. The valley has no town but its occupants were visible the moment I entered. Multiple radio telescopes that stand 80 feet tall were spread all over, able to move across the valley on railroad tracks. I had reached the Very Large Array, the nation’s premier tool for exploring the origins of the universe. Initially I hemmed and hawed about stopping, with another 150 miles till Albuquerque. 

As expected, I made the turn. The VLA includes 28 telescopes, with 27 deployed at all times while one receives maintenance in The Barn, a huge shed that easily fits them. One telescope is situated close to the visitor center and another along the gravel entry road to give visitors a close-up view.

 The movie Contact gives one the idea that the radio telescopes of the Very Large Array all sit close together. Most alignments spread them far across the dry lakebed. Also, the array is not searching for extraterrestrial life, but observing black holes, stars with developing planetary systems, and other distant objects.

Watching the silent array probe the origins of the universe made those 400-plus tight turns feel somewhat less significant. Then again, it might have taken that long for the adrenaline surge to wear off.