Red Rock Country - The Most Scenic Drives in America: 120 Spectacular Road Trips - page 468

9. Sycamore Canyon
Paralleling Oak Creek Canyon roughly 15 miles to the west, Sycamore Canyon offers the
same splendor as its neighbor, without the crowds. Only hikers and those on horseback are
allowed within the area, and even so, a trek should not be attempted in summer, when tem-
peratures on the canyon floor flirt with the 100°F mark. To reach the canyon from Tuzi-
goot,takethenationalmonumentroadandturnleftaftercrossingtheVerdeRiver.Theroad
dead-ends at the head of Parsons Trail, which runs the 21-mile length of Sycamore Creek.
Yawning five miles wide in some spots, the gorge has been likened to a miniature Grand
Canyon.
10. Verde River Canyon Excursion Train
No roads penetrate the upper Verde River Canyon, so it's not surprising that this excursion
train—thehold-overofaonce-busyrailroadservingthearea'scoppermines—issopopular
with visitors. Hugging the south side of the river, the diesel-powered locomotive chugs
along at a lazy 12 miles an hour through the craggy canyon, past Indian ruins, across spec-
tacular trestle bridges, and down one long mountain tunnel, making the 40-mile round-trip
between Clarkdale and the ghost town of Perkinsville in 4 1/2 hours. The valley is home to
a variety of birds and mammals, and the train's dawdling presence does not disturb them.
Look for bobcats, black bears, bald eagles (the canyon is the winter home to a flock of
these quintessentially American birds), and great blue herons, throngs of which nest in the
cottonwoods near the end of the line.
11. Jerome
Clinging to the sides of Cleopatra Hill, Jerome looks like a city poised to jump. In fact,
that's exactly what has happened more than once, when dynamite blasts from nearby cop-
per and silver mines shook buildings—including the town jail—right off the hillside.
Jerome's history is no less interesting than its precarious placement. Named for mining
financier Eugene Jerome (who never actually set foot on Cleopatra Hill), the town was
born in 1882, when the United Verde Copper Company began operation. It quickly grew
to become the territory's fifth-largest city—and a veritable mecca of sin. At the turn of the
century, so many saloons, gambling dens, and brothels crowded Jerome's crooked streets
that a New York newspaper tagged it “the wickedest town in America.” As if to purge it of
its unseemly reputation, fires raged through Jerome so many times that people lost count.
Somehow, the town always bounced back.