Roger Naylor
Special for The Republic
You never know what's going to happen when you travel. On a recent afternoon with the faint scent of lilac on the breeze, I was gunned down in the streets of Chloride.
Minutes later, I was scrambling from boulder to boulder in a rocky canyon, jockeying for the best view of vibrant murals splashed across big granite outcroppings. Painted by Roy Purcell in 1966 and then repainted by Purcell and family members 40 years later, the 2,000 square feet of eye-popping color and thought-provoking images held me spellbound.
Before leaving town, I cruised the streets admiring the quirky collection of metal sculptures, painted bowling balls, bottle trees, stacked mining tools, stuffed-animal dioramas and other strange displays. Although no one knows exactly how it started, Chloride is a thriving hub of yard art.
If you aren't familiar with Chloride, don't beat yourself up. It's under the radar of many travelers. Founded in the early 1860s, it is one of the oldest continuously inhabited mining towns in Arizona. The cluster of weathered buildings huddles along a dead-end road at the base of the Cerbat Mountains.
The first time I rolled into Chloride, I had no idea what to expect. It felt like I was in the middle of nowhere. I stopped in at Yesterday's, a restaurant and saloon, and asked what kind of beer they had. The bartender cocked an eyebrow and said, "You want me to name all 175?"
Annual events in Chloride include a Jimmy Hoffa Birthday Bash, soap-box derby races for adults and a townwide yard sale. But most of the time, it's ridiculously quiet. Chloride makes Mayberry look like the Las Vegas Strip. When I want to escape whatever hustle and bustle momentarily rules my life without going on a long backcountry hike, I head for Chloride.
It wasn't always like this. After silver chloride was discovered in 1862, mines sprang up throughout the region. The Butterfield Stage and the Santa Fe Railroad came through town. The population topped 2,500 during the boom years. About a tenth of that number resides there today.
The "former mining town" label applies to dozens of rural Arizona burgs. They evolve new identities or disappear. Yet, Chloride still seems to be weighing its options. Historical buildings remain, a smattering of shops comprises a small commercial district and a gunfight generally breaks out at high noon every Saturday.
The Immortal Gunfighters of Chloride, a re-enactor group, built Cyanide Springs in 1997, a ramshackle replica of an Old West town smack in the middle of Chloride. Using only hand tools, either because they strove for authenticity or because they were drinking, depending on who tells the story, they peeled aged lumber from nearby mines and slapped together the rustic town within a town.
Although one side of the street of Cyanide Springs is false-front structures, the other side consists of historical gems that include the Silver Belle Playhouse, a former vaudeville theater, and an old miner's house now preserved as the Jim Fritz Museum. Both buildings are more than 100 years old.
It was while watching Chloride's last remaining re-enactor group, Longcoats and Lace Gunfighters, that I got pulled into the action. They recruited a couple of folks from the crowd for their final skit. My part consisted of taking a fall in the dust during the shootout. It was a role I had perfected in my childhood of playing cowboy. As guns roared, I clutched my chest, did a pirouette, staggered into a modified triangle pose before collapsing, pushing to my knees and crawling a few inches on my elbows, then collapsing for a final time to what I'm sure were sobs and mournful wails.
After the smoke cleared, I lingered awhile in case anyone wanted my autograph. No doubt intimidated by my artistic intensity, the crowd kept a respectful distance. So I jumped in my truck and headed for the murals.
In 1966, Purcell worked as a miner in Chloride. When not scratching for ore, he painted a set of murals called "The Journey ... Images From an Inward Search for Self" on towering slabs of granite. The murals launched Purcell's celebrated artistic career.
I've spent a good deal of time over the years trying to decipher all that I see painted across the rocks — the writhing serpent, the ancient symbols, a rising goddess, the town dwarfed by a giant taloned foot. Like all good art, the murals slap you around a little.
Even Purcell wasn't sure what he created. He wrote, "Finally in September 1966, I stood paint-splattered, ragged and tired on the rocks across the canyon to view the finished work. I understood only remotely what had erupted so violently out of myself. I felt more like an aged Samson with a sun-bleached jawbone in my hands than an artist with a paintbrush."
Chloride isn't for everyone. Windshield tourists will be bored by this speck of a community hanging on in the high desert. The town has two restaurants, one modest adobe motel, a general store and a few shops with chancy hours. Your best bet to catch everything open is to show up on a weekend. But the key is to get out and walk around. Talk to the characters who call Chloride home. You'll get lots of great stories. Nobody lives here because of the convenience.
Visitors are welcome in Chloride, but they're not fawned over. It's up to us as travelers to fit into the languid rhythms of an authentic small town. I, for one, like that very much.
Chloride
Chloride is 227 miles northwest of central Phoenix. Take Interstate 17 north about 23 miles to Arizona 74 and go west for 36 miles to U.S. 60. Go 11 miles northwest to Wickenburg, then take U.S. 93 about 110 miles north to Interstate 40. Go west about 25 miles into Kingman, then take U.S. 93 northwest about 18 miles to County Road 125. Go east for 4 miles to Chloride.
What to see
Roy Purcell murals: Drive east on Tennessee Avenue. The pavement ends at the edge of town, then it's 1.3 miles on a dirt road that's rough but passable for most cars. Painted arrows and signs guide you. Ancient petroglyphs are on the opposite side of the canyon from the murals. For more information on Roy Purcell's art, go to www.purcellgalleries.com.
Railroad depot: The old railroad depot and former jail are still standing but there are no signs to either. Get a map and directions at Mineshaft Market, perhaps the smallest tourist-information center in the state. 4940 Tennessee Ave. 928-565-4888.
Shootouts: Longcoats and Lace Gunfighters conduct mock gunfights at noon most Saturdays. Check in at Ye Ol Shoppe, an ice-cream and souvenir shop attached to Cyanide Springs. 4942 Elkhart St. 928-565-5032.
Movie: A 30-minute movie about Chloride is shown in the Silver Bell Playhouse upon request. There is no charge, and Ye Ol Shoppe provides free popcorn.
Where to eat
Yesterday's: Enjoy fine dining in a casual atmosphere, with a menu that features everything from juicy burgers to osso buco. There's an impressive beer selection. Live music on weekends draws folks from surrounding towns. Historian Mark Hall-Patton will give a free lecture on the history of the region from 3 to 5 p.m. Saturday, June 21. 9827 Second St. 928-565-4251, www.chlorideaz.com.
Digger Dave's: This eclectic place has a small dining room on one side and a bar on the other. Walls are plastered with memorabilia that will make you smile. Food is made from scratch and the place is known for its 10-hour barbecue and chile verde. The bar's patio is filled with old mining equipment and weird yard art. 4962 Tennessee Ave. 928-565-3283.
Where to Shop
Shady Lady Attic Antiques: 4881 Payroll St. 928-565-2886.
Van Meter's Silversmithing: 4727 Tennessee Ave. 928-565-4180.
Claim Your Treasure: 4980 Tennessee Ave. 928-565-4684.
Where to stay
Shep's Miners Inn: This lodging offers 15 modest but comfortable rooms in an adobe building that dates to the early 1870s. $50. 928-565-4251.
Roger Naylor's Arizona
Every month in Explore Arizona, Roger Naylor shares his favorite finds from traipsing around the state.
