Detour #96: Arizona's "Alps", USA
Thought Arizona was all arid vanishing-point desert roads? Dan Trent goes off-piste to discover a hillier, twistier side…
Let’s face it, there’s no such thing as a boring drive in a car like a McLaren 720S Spider. But, having been flown all the way out to Arizona to drive it, the designated test route from Phoenix to a golf resort in Payson doesn’t appear to do it justice. A pleasant excursion with time in hand to enjoy the facilities back at the Scottsdale Four Seasons event hotel, perhaps. But hardly worthy of the miles covered to get there.
Somehow, I schmooze a car to myself and permission to take it off-piste. And, as my colleagues tuck into lunch at the golf resort, I head north into the Cococino National Forest towards Flagstaff for something rather more adventurous.
From the urban sprawl of Phoenix the road up to Payson has already climbed to 1,500 metres, the heat of the desert floor replaced with an Alpine tang to the air as big skies, sun-scorched rock and cacti give way to steep, forested hillsides. There is, of course, a lot more to Arizona than the image most of us have. But that you can be in such a different landscape in such a short space of time is a proof of just how epic even a relatively compressed Stateside roadtrip can be.
And in a car like the 720S the opportunity to tackle the twists and turns of the climb up to Happy Jack offers more validation than any straight-line desert blast. If you’re pushed for time there’s an ‘escape route’ via Camp Verde before you get there. But if you want the full flavour of what Arizona has to offer it’s worth pushing on.
I’ve been on two car launches here and, for all Arizona’s sun drenched reputation, on both of them it snowed. While a 720 horsepower, rear-wheel drive supercar might not sound the right tool for the job, by some fluke of good fortune I score clear blue skies with a dry ribbon of tarmac twisting between snowbanks and the forest beyond. It’s stunning, the cold air taking my breath away as the road climbs and climbs nearly another Snowdon’s worth of elevation above Payson, traffic light and the McLaren scything its way through the turns.
The nature of the terrain is a blessing in a car this potent, given the temptation to relieve the boredom of wide, straight Interstates is mitigated by the more involving, twistier nature of the route. At Clint Wells I branch north toward Flagstaff, a little concerned by how much closer the snow now is, occasional dustings blown onto the road itself as I ponder whether it really is wise to commit to the loop at this point. Thankfully I press on.
After another stunning section of road slaloming between snow covered trees suddenly the landscape opens out and I’m running beside the vast Mormon Lake. The sense of being at the top of the world while following the lake shore is mesmerising, the sky opening out and making the open-top experience of the Spider all the more vivid.
Skirting Flagstaff the I-17 Interstate offers another ‘escape route’ back to Phoenix if required. But I know from my previous visit there are roads with far more promise the other side of the outdoor sports honeypot of Sedona. It’s a shock to so quickly be back among strip malls and suburbia after the scenery I’ve just passed through, but I’m soon back into the wilds, twisting canyon roads opening out into valley floors as the road hugs the rocky hillsides, place names like ‘Dead Man’s Gulch’ a reminder of the area’s rugged past.
Having traversed the (relatively) built-up basin west of Sedona the mountains ahead signal yet another dramatic change of landscape. A rapid-fire sequence of hairpins leads to the quirky town of Jerome, an old mining town clinging to a perilously steep hillside that must have been a hard place back in the day but is now gentrified into a hippyish tourist stop. I’m sure it’s a fun place to hang out but the clock is ticking and I need to get my McLaren back to Phoenix before it turns into a pumpkin…
Yet another stunning sequence of rock-lined twists and turns leads to the flat plain to Prescott, the original capital of Arizona with a picture-perfect Main Street and real sense of history. I’m tempted to divert via the fantastic apple pie shop I visited last time but there’s still some way to go. With the town receding in the mirrors it’s time to enjoy yet another stunning section of twisting, Alpine style road. American speed limits are, safe to say, somewhat lower than what the McLaren encourages but at least on this kind of terrain you can enjoy more of what’s on offer. And with the roof down it feels like 100mph even when you’re doing half that. Honestly, officer.
The transition from the twisting downhill off the mountains to the flat desert plane is sudden enough to feel being woken from a long-haul slumber by the plane’s wheels thumping onto the runway. To go from tree-lined twists and turns to a vanishing-point desert road bordered by cacti and ramshackle farms and houses is a dramatic reminder of just how varied the landscape can be in America, even within a relatively short distance. As the sun sets over a black ribbon of tarmac bisected by painted yellow lines the vista – and desert air – feels more like the Arizona of your imagination.
Given the majesty and scale of what I’ve just driven through it might seem a let-down. But, in fact, it’s a chance to chill out, enjoy the warm evening air and get the pulse rate back down on the return to Scottsdale.
Back at the event hotel my colleagues are tucking into another big dinner as I arrive, quizzical at my sun-blasted complexion and wide-eyed stare.
“Where have you been?”
Somewhere more interesting than the hotel spa, that’s for sure.
Words Dan Trent Twitter | Instagram
Photography Dan Trent / McLaren