The Cactus Derby: Arizona’s Early Roadways Attract Legendary Daredevils

Cactus Derby

Back in those halcyon days, when getting someplace was an adventure, daring drivers ran road races across the Arizona desert to promote the building of better highways. It’s hard to believe but as recently as 1929 Arizona had less than 300 miles of paved highways. In 1908 promoters began staging road races between Los Angeles and Phoenix. Billed as the Cactus Derby, they attracted such racing daredevils as the legendary Barney Oldfield, Olin Davis and Lewis Chevrolet. Drivers vied for a $2,500 prize and the title, Master Driver of the World.

Little-Known Wham Paymaster Robbery is Among Old Arizona’s Most Brazen

Gold Coins

The arid desert south of Thatcher is the site of the Wham paymaster robbery which, despite the name, had nothing to so with “wham,” “bam” or other common Batman terms.

It’s so named because, on May 11, 1889, a band of robbers ambushed a group of soldiers carrying a U.S. Army payroll to Fort Thomas and Maj. Thomas W. Wham was in charge of the unit. After a lengthy gun battle, the outlaws made off with $28,345.10 in gold and silver coins.

Eleven men were arrested in connection with the robbery; only seven stood trial in Federal Court. But, despite overwhelming evidence from the soldiers, all were found not guilty and none of the money was ever recovered.

The Fall (and Rise?) of Notorious Train Robber Burt Alvord

Burt Alvord

Burt Alvord was a big, strapping, swarthy-looking char­acter with a bald pate and an I.Q. that was said to be considerably less than his age, which was about 30. Alvord did have a few positive attributes. He was usually cheerful, had a sense of humor and was a mighty popular fellow in Cochise County during the 1890s. He’d been a deputy for county sheriff John Slaughter, who’d pronounced him abso­lutely fearless.

Burt was also pretty good with a six-shooter. Old timers said he demonstrated his prowess at beer bottles hung from a tree limb by a string. He’d shoot the string with his right hand, then draw with the left and break the bottle before it hit the ground.

His major interests seem to have been poker, pool, horses, guns and practical jokes.

The Fourth Goes Bang in Taylor

Firing the Anvil, Taylor

TAYLOR — The people who reside in this community don’t have to worry about getting a wake-up call to make sure they don’t miss the Independence Day festivities. The Taylor Fire Department takes care of that.

Starting at 4 a.m. every July 4, the department conducts an annual ritual known as “firing the anvil.” It’s a simple procedure — get an anvil and some gunpowder, stuff a bunch of gunpowder under the anvil, light the fuse and stand back. (The warning of “do not try this at home” should be obvious). The ensuing blast not only wakes up everyone within hearing distance, it also catapults the anvil several feet into the air.

History, Theories Surrounding the Lost Dutchman Mine

Superstition Mountains

Arizona’s most notorious lost treasure story for both believers and otherwise takes place in the mysterious Superstition Mountains.

The rugged range of mountains east of the Salt River Valley encom­passes some of the most breathtaking, untouched wilderness recesses in America. There is also an aura of mystical beauty that can possess the soul. They are regarded as religious shrines by both the Pimas and Apaches. They provided the setting for much bloody violence between those warring tribes before the coming of the white man. During the latter part of the 19th century, the mountains became a formidable sanctuary and one of the last vestiges of the Apaches who refused to become reservation Indians. They used the twisting canyons and impenetrable maze of rocks, defying sustained efforts by the military, for over twenty years.