fall 2024 | volume 2 | Issue 1
Experience the landscapes that develop with the growing elevation along the I-17
An in-depth look into the uranium industry on the Colorado Plateau
fall 2024 | volume 2 | Issue 1
Experience the landscapes that develop with the growing elevation along the I-17
An in-depth look into the uranium industry on the Colorado Plateau
Brisa Karow | Editor-in-Chief
Hannah Barrett | Director of Print Design
Chloe Legay | Director of Digital Content
Alycia Stewart | Director of Marketing
Rose Baillie | Managing Editor
Ava Hiniker | Copy Editor
Corey Stakley, Marcel Herving, Chloe Legay, Sara Williams, Samuel Grumeretz, Sarah Manning, Noah Butler, Emma Stansbery, James Patberg, Rachel Vazquez, Scottie Anair, Nay Hernandez, Grace Meinema, Abbey Sobelman, Molly Hunter, Rose Baillie, Daisy Johnston
Emma Stansbery, Grace Meinema, Corey Stakley, Saige Steele, Tony Bracha, Austin Williams, Sara Williams, Daisy Johnston, Abi Seidenberg
BRISA KAROW EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
One of the greatest pleasures of moving to a new town, city or state is finding a sense of place in the area and allowing it to become an integral part of who you are. There’s a beauty in shaping a location in your mind over time, adding the twists and turns of roads, trails or landscapes traveled and the spaces and community members you come across. Those who tune in to their newfound surroundings begin to learn the depth of the community and the history behind its places, people, issues and values.
Northern Arizona, a region of diverse geography and culture, is often set apart from the rest of the state — overlooked by outsiders who generalize the state as an arid desert, with Phoenix at the heart. But those who know Flagstaff, nestled in the world’s largest ponderosa pine forest and situated at a striking nearly 7,000 feet, might say differently.
Victoria Medina, Caitlyn Anderson, Landon Johnson, Jason Maggio, Chloe Legay, Jesenia Mackey-Tarango, Nathan Ecker, Mac Tronsdal, Yanissa Romo, Lukas Wisner, Brisa Karow, Sal Armijo, Emma Stansbery, Beau Foy, Beck Toms, Kelby Foutz, Marvin Sagisi
Hannah Barrett, Brisa Karow, Calleigh Juday, Alexis Beaman, Alycia Stewart, Rose Baillie, Sarah Manning, Austin Hagan, Victoria Medina, Chloe Legay, Nathan Ecker, Emma Stansbery, Kiel Amundsen
Katherine Locke | Faculty Adviser
Northern Arizona University sits at the base of the San Francisco Peaks, on the homelands sacred to Native Americans throughout the region. We honor their past, present and future generations, who have lived here for millennia and will forever call this place home.
Cover Photo: The view of the Hotel Monte Vista seen from Lowell Observitory lookout point, Nov. 7. Jason Maggio
Flagstaff is distinct in its status as a crossroads town, with an ebb and flow of international visitors, tourists, college students, outdoor adventurers, history buffs, astronomy enthusiasts and weekenders escaping the Valley. Their paths intermingle with the locals, a mix of small-business owners, NAU alumni, athletes, environmentalists and health-care providers. The university, situated on Native American land, provides an opportunity for students to get to know the issues Native Americans and their families still face today.
The city is a border town to the Navajo and Hopi nations, and Indigeneity is seeped into the area’s culture. Yet, many Diné and Hopi people — two of the largest populations of Native Americans in northern Arizona — continue to fight for sovereignty and their traditional homelands.
Within the folds of this magazine, our staff sought to compile stories that captured the essence of the area surrounding us; The Lumberjack’s Atlas of northern Arizona.
Readers can travel the expanse of terrain from Phoenix to Flagstaff, follow the history of Route 66 and its influence on Southwest culture and get a taste for the diverse cultural cuisine the city houses.
In our cover story, “The lines that divide us,” our staff mapped the changing lines of Coconino County and Arizona, factors that influence who can make Flagstaff home among a rising cost of living and infrastructure inequalities. Another piece follows the nuclear fuel chain in northern Arizona and the Native voices that oppose resource extraction on their land, which impacts their health and ways of life.
To explore NAU through our pieces, take a tour of campus architecture, read spotlights of international athletes’ hometowns, a poet’s guide to liminal spaces at the university and learn about a new Indigenous garden coming to central campus.
This magazine would not have been possible without the care everyone on staff has put into shaping our final product, one which we hope people both local and from afar can connect with. Enjoy the read!
Phone: (928) 523-4921
Fax: (928) 523-9313
lumberjack@nau.edu
P.O. Box 6000 Flagstaff, AZ 86011
Flagstaff was founded in 1876, and is no longer the small mountain town so many once knew it as. The town’s population increases each year, and Flagstaff has expanded to accommodate the needs of its new and old residents and nonstop flow of tourists.
One of the largest contributors to the town’s growing population is the yearly influx of students NAU admits. This fall, there are a total of 28,468 enrolled students that the university and town have to accommodate.
Lynda Fleischer, a local of 40 years and former owner of Altitudes Bar and Grill, has seen the town change for the better over the last few decades, largely due to NAU’s increasing student population.
“The culture NAU brings to Flagstaff keeps it young and vibrant and always changing,” Fleischer said. “I know that
Flagstaff would not be what it is today without NAU, and I probably would not be up here if it was not for that.”
Downtown Flagstaff is best known for its vast array of locally owned restaurants, shops and lively nightlife, but the town was not always this exuberant. Many spaces have changed, renovated or opened in the last several decades, evolving with the ever-expanding town.
“In terms of food, there were about 20 or so restaurants in the downtown area when we opened Altitudes up in 2003,” Fleischer said. “We sold in 2023, and by then, there were over 70 places to eat or drink in downtown Flagstaff.”
With the allure of the town’s nightlife, stunning views and proximity to Sedona and the Grand Canyon, there is no shortage of tourist attractions.
The American flag waves on top of Babbitt’s Backcountry Outfitters on the corner of Aspen Avenue and San Francisco Street in downtown Flagstaff, Oct. 25. The Babbitt Brothers Building was created in 1888 when David Babbitt decided to turn his lumberyard into a general store. Victoria Medina
Amanda Souders has lived in Flagstaff for nearly two decades and often visited northern Arizona growing up.
“I feel so lucky to live here,” Souders said. “I love meeting tourists and seeing the beauty of Flagstaff through their eyes. It’s wonderful that so many people from around the world come to see Flagstaff and the Grand Canyon, and hopefully, they help the economy and encourage more tourism through sharing their stories here with others.”
Between 1970 and 2022, the Flagstaff metropolitan area grew at an annual rate of 2.11% — a net gain of over 95,000 residents. This increase directly led to the further expansion of neighborhoods, apartments, restaurants and bars throughout town.
With new city developments and establishments, depending on the project, agreements can occasionally be harder to come by.
“We do not take anything lightly here,” Fleischer said. “We had to vote
on whether or not to accept a super Walmart, if we should put a road through McMillan Mesa, minimum wage increases, how many stories tall a building can be and several other topics. Because we have left it to the people to decide, we live with our decisions and our destiny is our own.”
In 2023, community members rejected Proposition 480, which would have established an $800 million healthcare facility in south Flagstaff. Residents opposed to Prop 480 thought Northern Arizona Healthcare, the Arizona Department of Transportation and the city of Flagstaff did not provide enough information about the proposal, and the new hospital raised too many possible environmental and sustainability issues.
The light shines through the empty Amtrak station in downtown Flagstaff, Oct. 21. At this station, travelers can take the train to locations, including Albuquerque and Los Angeles.
Jason Maggio
The community shares and hears one another’s voices during City Council meetings, and through local news and social media groups.
The town and NAU’s population continue to grow, but the constant growth and adapting to it is a constant challenge for long-time residents. Flagstaff local. Former NAU student Samantha Page believes it still feels like a small and friendly town, but keeping up with the infrastructure has become an increasing issue.
“I can’t necessarily say it’s ‘worse,’ but it certainly has not kept up with the growth of the city,” Page said. “Everyone knows traffic is substantially
worse than it was 10, 20 or even 50 years ago, likely because the city keeps approving massive apartment complexes on main roads without any real consideration for how that may impact traffic on those byways.”
These projects expand infrastructure through the city’s Capital Improvements Program, but make it difficult for residents to live day-to-day lives as they normally have.
One difficulty residents face is keeping track of what establishments have closed, reopened or are new. Downtown Diner, which had been in Flagstaff for 33 years, closed in 2022. Kachina Kitchen had been operating for 30 years before it closed in 2024. “
“Every time a beloved restaurant closes, another pops up in its place,” Page said. “It can honestly be pretty difficult to keep up with, but that’s just the nature of the beast.”
The Flagstaff Visitor Center is a resource for both residents and tourists
looking to keep up with changes around town. Located downtown alongside the the railroad tracks both BNSF and Amtrak use, the center is a hub for learning about new places to visit, eat and stay.
Jessica Johnson, Flagstaff Visitor Center manager, grew up in Flagstaff and has worked at the center for 10 years. In her time, she said she has watched the town evolve, especially in the last few years, compared to the rest of the time she has been on the job.
“It’s changed much more recently,” Johnson said. “Lowell Observatory is one they have changed a lot over the years. When I first started, it was all just the historic telescopes and then in 2019, they opened the Giovale Open Deck Observatory, so that was 12 more telescopes, and now in a few more weeks they are going to be opening the Astronomy Discovery Center. So, that’s going to be another huge thing.” Astronomer Percival Lowell
established Lowell Observatory in 1894 as a place to study Mars. Since its beginning, it has become a wellknown resident and tourist attraction, receiving over 100,000 visitors annually. The observatory played a major part in Flagstaff establishing the first dark sky lighting ordinance in 1958 to reduce the amount of light pollution in the area.
“I think the largest change is just the growth, and NAU seems a lot bigger than it used to be, and I think that really drives a lot of our growth,” Johnson said. “I think both the students and the services that go with being in a college town, like fast food, bars and places of convenience, are all part of that culture, so it grows together.”
Flagstaff is in close proximity to several Indigenous communities, including the Diné, Havasupai, Kaibab-Paiute and Hopi.
“The Museum of Northern Arizona
is a big one that we send a lot of visitors to because then they can learn about all of these cultures through the museum,” Johnson said.
Johnson mentioned historical sites nearby that they send visitors to, like Walnut Canyon, Wutpaki and Elden Pueblo.
The museum also hosts the Heritage Festival of Arts and Culture in June. The weekend is a way for Native American artists to sell their work directly to locals rather than through galleries.
“I think Indigenous representation has become a bigger priority,” Johnson said. “In my time with the city, they have hired the Indigenous coordinator. That’s someone we can lean on when we are doing something and are wondering ‘Am I doing this the right way to respect our Indigenous populations?’ We can lean to her and ask,” Johnson said.
Over the years, Flagstaff has evolved to expand and adapt to the needs of its growing community with new restaurants, apartments and attractions.
Top: The sun shines over the Weatherford Hotel on the corner of Aspen Avenue and Leroux Street in downtown Flagstaff, Oct. 25. This hotel was built in 1887 by John W. Weatherford. Victoria Medina
Left: The sign for the Hotel Monte Vista stands over the building on the corner of Aspen Avenue and San Francisco Street in downtown Flagstaff, Oct. 25. The name of the hotel means mountain view and was named in honor of the townspeople who contributed to its creation in 1927. Victoria Medina
Near NAU’s campus, there are fast-food restaurants before Interstate 17, Nov. 14.
Arizona is divided by district lines, rivers and redlining, shaping its borders as they are known today.
Many of the cities, counties and neighborhoods that make up Arizona fall along specific lines shaped by natural resources and public policies. Here is a deeper look into how these different dividers formed Arizona and continue to affect communities today.
Every 10 years, the United States Census Bureau reshapes district lines according to population size. Redistricting, a process set in place by the Constitution, is meant to ensure congressional seats represent changing populations, geography and community demographics.
Arizona Independent Redistricting Commission redraws the districts every 10 years. The commission is composed of two members appointed by the highest-ranking Democratic leaders and two members appointed by the highest-ranking Republican leaders. Once selected, they work together to appoint an independent chairperson.
During the last redistricting process, Erika Neuberg, the appointed chairperson, approved a new map that shifted the political balance of Arizona’s districts by switching the level of competitiveness. Whereas before 2020, Arizona had four Republican-leaning districts, two Democratic-leaning districts and three competitive districts, the state transformed and housed six Republican-leaning districts and three Democratic.
Kyle Nitschke, the organizing director for the Arizona Students’ Association, ran to represent the 8th Congressional District in 2022. When Neuberg was elected, Nitschke said the chairperson options were limited to right-leaning candidates.
“They were all just Republicans in disguise who are independents,” Nitschke said. “So, the one they ended up picking sided with the Republicans on pretty much every decision that had to be made throughout the independent redistricting process.”
Before the most recent redistricting, Arizona had three competitive districts where the races between Republicans and Democrats were often close. Now, the state has zero.
When districts are no longer competitive, candidates can appeal to the extreme sides of their parties with less pressure to develop nonpartisan policies.
“Whichever candidate caters hardest to that party is going to win that primary and is going to win the general,” Nitschke said. “So, that’s the argument. You get the craziest options.”
According to the Arizona Independent Redistricting Commission’s website , it completed its work on June 28. A new commission will be appointed in January 2031.
Without today’s technological advancements, the Southwest’s earliest populations relied on natural resources. Arizona is
home to eight major rivers that have shaped where people built their lives.
Phoenix is located along the Salt River, which is nearly 200 miles long. Today, the river continues to make up most of Phoenix’s water supply.
According to the Arizona Museum of Natural History, the Hokoham were some of the first to live in southern Arizona and could have been there as early as 2000 B.C. The Hokoham had a sophisticated irrigation system, allowing them to advance their agriculture.
Over time, irrigation canals further advanced, enabling people to move away from natural water sources. With the ability to transport water further inland, crops and livestock that required large amounts of water could grow in different places. As a result, people could live away from the river without sacrificing their food sources.
No major river runs through Flagstaff. When the snow from the mountains melts, water flows into nearby bodies of water, mainly Upper Lake Mary and the Rio de Flag. However, aquifers, water conservation programs and reclaimed water programs have allowed the city to deliver water to a growing population.
From historic redlining practices to highway segregation and continued city development, neighborhoods home to people of color throughout Arizona are often at a disadvantage when it comes to homeownership, wealth accumulation and access to essential services and infrastructure.
Today, advocacy groups and government initiatives attempt to dismantle these institutionally racist practices, but the effects remain a cornerstone of some of the issues lower-income neighborhoods face, particularly those historically home to people of color.
According to U.S Census Bureau Data from 2020, grave homeownership disparities still exist in the state. The white homeownership rate was 71.6% compared to the Hispanic or Latino rate at 56.7%, Native American rate at 55.6% and Black homeownership rate at 35.7%.
Homeownership is a necessary aspect of wealth building. However, redlining, deed restrictions and discriminatory infrastructure developments exacerbate this disparity in capital, nationally and
state-wide.
Redlining is a discriminatory housing practice that denied certain individuals mortgage loans based on the neighborhoods they lived in, which were historically determined by race or ethnicity.
In the 1930s, the Home Owners Loan Corporation drew maps designating “high credit risk” neighborhoods for loans on a scale from “A” to “D.” On these maps, “D” areas, which were deemed the most “hazardous” and were primarily communities of color, were shaded red, giving the
The Murdoch Center on East Brannen Avenue represents multicultural communities in Flagstaff’s Southside neighborhood, where a large population of people of color live in the city, Nov. 11. Brisa Karow
redlining practice its name.
Redlining occurred across the country until the 1968 Fair Housing Act made it illegal. A 1935 Phoenix redlining map illustrates areas south of Van Buren Street to the Salt River were designated “D” zones. These neighborhoods have large populations of Hispanic and Black residents compared to northern parts of Phoenix.
A 2021 report on Arizona’s discriminatory housing practices completed by ASU’s Morrison Institute for Public Policy breaks down how segregation policies were implemented and their impacts on Phoenix communities.
One of the reasons for south Phoenix having a higher concentration of people of color was due to the 1924 Standard State Zoning Enabling Act (SZEA) implemented by the U.S. Commerce Department under former U.S. Secretary of Commerce Herbert Hoover. SZEA allowed zoning regulations, which enabled racial segregation.
In addition to redlining, the Federal Housing Administration (FHA) established home deeds that restricted homeowner sales for people of color and specified that a white person could only sell their home to another white person to keep certain neighborhoods racially homogeneous.
A 1948 Maricopa County
Deed explicitly stated that certain lots could not be sold to an individual or someone whose family was any race other than
white or Caucasian.
While the sole redlining map of Arizona covered downtown and south Phoenix, Deborah Harris, Flagstaff City Council member and board president of the Southside Community Association, said redlining practices likely occurred in Flagstaff throughout the early- and mid-1900s and can
“ALL THE OTHER [AREAS], LIKE THE DOWNTOWN AREA, PEOPLE WANT TO BE CLOSE TO THAT, AND THEY PUSH COMMUNITIES OF COLOR OUT.”
– Deborah Harris, board president of the Southside Community Association
be seen through the segregated neighborhoods that remain.
“We can see now that if you look at the older families, Hispanic and probably Black … you will see that those homes are basically in the Southside and then some in Sunnyside in the later years,” Harris said. “So, that’s how we knew that there was redlining going on.”
Harris is a Black woman who has lived in Flagstaff for over 30 years. As the Southside Community Association’s board president, she helped secure a $1 million Environmental Protection Agency grant that established the Murdoch Community Center as one of three resiliency hubs in the city.
She said redlining is not a well-known issue because documentation is not easily accessible and the concept is rarely taught. Many people do not want to admit that redlining occurred.
One housing trend Harris mentioned was pushing people of color to live south of railroad tracks, which is true for Flagstaff and Phoenix.
“That’s typically where they would be located, and the reason for that is that’s usually the more undesirable area …,” Harris said.
“And all the other [areas], like the downtown area, people want to be close to that, and they push communities of color out.”
With redlining and segregated living, neighborhoods of color have historically been subjected to infrastructure that disrupts residents’ daily living or displaces them. This meant neighborhoods of color tended to take longer to develop.
In the early 1900s, the city of Flagstaff diverted the Rio de Flag from a southeast path, where Cherry Avenue meets Kendrick Street, to follow a southern path flowing into Flagstaff’s Southside.
This prevented flooding in the then-developing, uppermiddle-class neighborhood, now known as Flagstaff Townsite, which became more populous during that time.
“They dug channels to divert the water because it was flooding the more affluent areas, and they didn’t want that,” Harris said. “So, they took it through Southside, which was the area where Hispanic and Black people lived. And, if you know anything about anything, you know that in order to divert a river, it takes a lot of power and authority. So, it was a conscious decision by whoever were the powers-to-be at that time, and they were probably connected to the city council in some way.”
The diverted channel’s capacity to carry water suffered in its new location. In 1983, the Federal Emergency Management Agency declared Southside a federal floodplain
Federal, state and local governments have taken several measures to try and reverse some of the flooding effects in Southside, including the Rio de Flag Flood Control Project; however, the neighborhood continues to face several impediments, especially pertaining to property values.
The flooding has caused significant damage to Southside homes over the years, and residents have struggled to obtain home and flood insurance, upgrade their homes, obtain bank loans for home improvements and access home equity lines.
“Southside looks the way it looks in terms of houses being kind of run down or whatever because you cannot get a loan to improve your property because you are in a flood zone,” Harris said. “So, people have not been able to access the equity in their homes … in the Southside. They can’t do that because that house might float away. Banks are not loaning you money and taking that kind of risk, even if you have flood insurance.”
The Friends of the Rio de Flag, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit that preserves and restores the river’s natural state, said on its website the Southside neighborhood has been “disproportionately impacted by flooding and the economic, environment and health challenges that flooding poses for the community.”
Harris said Southside’s delineation as a floodplain, as well as it being an area where lower-income individuals have
historically lived, has prevented the city from developing it. She said the neighborhood did not have sidewalks until recently, while more affluent residential areas, including Cherry Hill, had sidewalks for decades.
Other instances of impeding infrastructure in Arizona include Interstate 17 and the Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport. East and west routes of I-17 and Interstate 10 run through areas of south Phoenix that were also redlined, displacing the families of color who lived there.
Phoenix Sky Harbor is located in Phoenix’s redlined “D” zone. Its construction and expansion contributed to additional misplacement but have also imposed environmental and health risks for those living near it.
County borders, rivers, railroad
tracks and redlines have and continue to serve as bounds that separate communities, disproportionately impacting people of color or those of lower socio-economic status.
Since the Obama administration, there have been changes to the FHA. In 2015, former President Barack Obama introduced a rule aiming to dismantle segregation and enforce integration through city-wide standards. In 2020, President-elect Donald Trump reversed the statute, saying it was ruining suburbs. President Joe Biden attempted to reinstate an updated version of Obama’s rule, and Project 2025 outlines plans to take the law off the table, making the future implementation of fair housing practices uncertain for the next four years.
A plate of sashimi dinner, consisting of salmon, tuna and yellowtail fish is served with chopsticks and soy-sauce inside Go Sushi and Thai, Oct. 29. Beck Toms
a Casita Mexicana serves menudo, a red beef soup, with traditional ingredients: a fresh flour tortilla, chopped cilantro, diced onion and a slice of lime.
Menudo is a traditional Mexican soup with strong ties to family and celebration in Mexican and Chicano cultures.
The origin of menudo is not known, but is thought to have been created during the pre-revolution era. Wealthy landowners only used what they believed to be the best parts of cattle and left the rest of the body to the land workers and the poor, who would use the remaining pieces in their meals.
Originally referred to as “poor man’s soup,” menudo is a staple in many Mexican and Chicano households, with ingredients like hominy, beef tripe, beef broth, beef marrow, onion, garlic, oregano, lime and chili.
Due to Mexico’s regional and cultural diversity within its 31 states, menudo can vary in color and ingredients based on one’s preferences and resource accessibility. Many menudo recipes are passed down through generations.
Areas like Sonora, Sinaloa, Jalisco and Nayarit make a variation of menudo that is white in color, menudo Blanco, but this is not the only variation that exists. Some variations substitute the beef tripe for pork or add cow or pig’s feet.
Go Sushi and Thai serves traditional style sashimi and offers the most popular sashimi fish varieties — salmon belly, tuna belly and yellowtail — alongside varying vegetables and sauces.
In traditional Japanese culture, sashimi is thinly sliced meat, such as fish, beef and poultry.
Although this popular Japanese dish is easily accessible at most sushi and izakaya restaurants, it was not popularized until the Edo period, from 1603 to 1868, in modern-day Tokyo. Kawafuku, a sushi bar in a Los Angeles restaurant, introduced sashimi to the United States in the 1960s.
Traditionally, sashimi is the first course of a meal, so it is not affected by the strong flavors of ginger or miso, which are often found in Japanese meals. The thickness of the cut is also important in the preparation process; the type of fish may determine the cut in which the sashimi is served.
Tuna, kingfish and salmon are more likely to be cut in a hirazukuri style, which means they are served as a flat slice about three-eighths of an inch. Tougher and lighter fish, such as flounder and blowfish, are cut very thinly in a style known as usuzukuri and served with a 1-millimeter thickness.
Fry Bread House serves traditional Diné flat dough bread, fried in oil, shortening or lard and paired with a variety of toppings. The restaurant offers savory options with a base of beans, lettuce, cheese, tomato and a choice of a protein or plant-based meat alternative and sweet options with honey, powdered sugar and chocolate syrup. The flavor can often be enhanced by adding cinnamon sugar, hazelnut spread, whipped cream, peanut butter and strawberries.
The Diné created fry bread, or dah díníilghaazh, as a means of surviving the 1864 Long Walk when the United States government forced members of the Navajo Nation on a 300-mile journey from Arizona to New Mexico. With little to no other forms of sustenance or access to their ancestral foods, fry bread originated through the practice of resilient Diné women experimenting with the few rations provided by the U.S. government, namely flour, salt, baking powder and lard.
The ingredients and methods of preparing fry bread are heavily dependent on the traditions of families and clans through generational practice. Although the dish originated with the Diné, it is now culturally significant to Native American nations across the U.S.
The dish’s versatility allows for substitutions and customizations in the way it is served. Today, fry bread is served as a symbol of unity and pride in Diné culture and is typically eaten during gatherings and celebrations.
A traditional fry bread with butter sits on a table outside Fry Bread House in Flagstaff, Oct. 25. Fry bread originated from Diné communities in the 19th century. Beck Toms
A Margherita D.O.C. pizza rests on a plate inside Fat Olives, Oct. 23. Kelby Foutz
Fat Olives proudly advertises its Vera Pizza Napoletana certification. This certificate keeps pizza from Naples, Italy, authentic in its origins and traditions.
In 1984, a group of Neapolitan chefs established the Associazione Verace Pizza Napoletana to protect the tradition of pizza making. In 1998, the organization was recognized by the Italian government and gave certifications to restaurants meeting the strict requirements of authentic Neapolitan pizza.
Neapolitan pizza started evolving in the late 1600s when tomatoes were first brought to Europe from Peru. Farm laborers created the dish, developing it over time by adding ingredients and discovering more advanced techniques. The pizza, as it is known today, took a long time to perfect, but the basic principles have stayed the same.
The pizza is characterized by foldable dough topped with fresh tomatoes, mozzarella, olive oil and basil. Traditionally, the pizza’s sauce-to-cheese ratio means the dish is wet in the middle and commonly eaten with a knife and fork. True Neapolitan pizza also requires a wood-fired oven to achieve a slight char on the bottom and edges of the crust.
Fat Olive’s pizza oven was handcrafted in Italy by the Valoriani family, and many of the ingredients used are imported or made in-house. Fat Olives is one of four restaurants in Arizona to hold the Vera Pizza Napoletana certification and the first in northern Arizona to receive it.
Spam musubi from Aloha Hawaiian BBQ is prepared for takeout, Oct. 31. Kelby Foutz
ot Wok offers dine-in, take out and delivery Chinese food to people in the Flagstaff area. Its mapo tofu uses pieces of pork to enrich the savory flavor of the dish.
The popular Chinese dish is traditionally made by braising tofu in a succulent sauce, topping it with garlic and scallions and serving it over rice. Despite being a tofu dish, it is not considered vegetarian, as it uses ground meat to enhance the flavor.
Mapo tofu was created in the mid-1800s in Chengdu, China, under the Qing dynasty and is a famous Sichuan meal. Sichuan cuisines are usually spicy and known for using a variety of flavors. They originated in the Sichuan province of China and include meals from Chongqing, Hunan and, of course, Chengdu.
In Chinese, mapo can be translated to “old woman with the pockmarks on her face.” There are a few theories about the origins of this name, but many of them suggest an elderly woman made the dish, and her recipe became famous.
Mapo tofu is usually served over rice as a full meal. The dish can also be served with noodle soup, steamed buns or porridge. While the dish can be eaten alone, the flavor might be too spicy for some people.
loha Hawaiian BBQ is a traditional Hawaiian restaurant that serves many cultural dishes. Spam musubi is a popular Hawaiian dish traditionally made using Spam, rice and dried seaweed.
The Hormel Foods Corp. invented Spam in 1937. The canned meat, primarily made of ground pork and ham, was introduced to Hawaii during World War II, when military personnel brought it back with them from the mainland.
Due to its long shelf life, Spam quickly became popular in Hawaii and was included in many dishes. The food is so loved in Hawaii that the state has a two-week festival where people wear Spam clothing and enjoy the many dishes.
Musubi is a rice ball that can include a variety of ingredients and is sometimes wrapped in dried seaweed. It originated in Japan and was brought to Hawaii by Japanese immigrants. Barbara Funamura, a Japanese American living in Hawaii, was the first to add Spam to the traditional dish. Funamara was described as a nutritionist and entrepreneur alongside the creator of Spam musubi.
Now, Spam Musubi is a modern-day staple, carrying influences of Japanese cuisine and Hawaii’s involvement in
The Colorado Plateau is a geographical region centered around the Four Corners area in the Southwest. The plateau is bound by Arizona’s Mogollon Rim, Utah’s Uinta Mountains, New Mexico’s Rio Grande rift and Colorado’s Rocky Mountains.
It is home to nine national parks, including the Grand Canyon, Petrified Forest, Bryce Canyon and Zion. It also contains 17 national forests, one national wildlife refuge, 26 wilderness areas and millions of acres regulated by the Bureau of Land Management. Over half of the region’s area is public land.
It is also a hotspot for energy resources, notably uranium.
The element is extracted in the form of ore from underground wells or open-pit mines before it travels to mills for processing. It is converted and enriched into gas, processed as a powder and delivered to its destination for use in nuclear power plants. This chain of events is the nuclear fuel cycle, or uranium’s path from lying dormant within the Earth to fueling nuclear energy.
A key player in the West’s uranium industry is Energy Fuels Inc.,
a company with mines in Colorado, Arizona, Utah and Wyoming. It also owns White Mesa Mill, the only operating conventional uranium mill in the United States.
On Nov. 12, the Biden-Harris administration announced its roadmap for nuclear power over the next 25 years. The plan is to triple the net capacity of U.S. nuclear energy production, supporting the plan of producing net-zero carbon emissions by 2050.
The plan is in line with the United Nations COP 28 plan to reduce emissions and prevent the devastating effects of further global climate change. If net-zero emissions are not reached by 2050, the planet could reach a global temperature of 1.5 degrees Celsius — or 34.7 degrees Fahrenheit — above pre-industrial levels. Climate scientists say this would result in the worst impacts of climate change.
However, the nuclear fuel chain may have a critical impact on the land and the Native Americans who have lived on it for thousands of years.
In northern Arizona, the nuclear fuel chain starts about 10 miles from the state’s most iconic geographical feature: the Grand Canyon.
Within the walls of the Grand Canyon are breccia pipes — unique tube-shaped rock formations that hold uranium either stored as ore or dissolved in water. Previously called Canyon Mine, Pinyon Plain Mine Pinyon Plain Mine began construction in 1986, but did not operate for decades due to bans on mining in the area and a lack of demand for uranium. After recent growth in the nuclear industry increased the element’s profitability, the mine resumed operation and extracted its first uranium ore in January 2024.
The mine threatens the Grand Canyon’s watershed, as it may be connected to the system that serves as the only water source for the Havasupai Tribe, who live at the bottom of the canyon.
Geologist Karl Karlstrom contributed to a study at the University of New Mexico analyzing the aquifers and faults in the Grand Canyon and beneath Pinyon Plain Mine. The similarities of the aquifers indicate they may be connected, meaning if groundwater is contaminated, it could flow into the Grand Canyon’s water system.
“The risks are so high for the Havasupai Tribe, especially with the gradient of the water heading toward that main spring of theirs,” Karlstrom said. “There’s so many unknowns. The risks are unacceptable.”
Among other recommendations, including a meeting with Interior Secretary Deb Haaland and a suspension or closure of the mine, the scientists suggested a new Environmental Impact Statement be conducted to replace the last one from 1986.
Attorney General Kris Mayes and Gov. Katie Hobbs both wrote letters to the Forest Service requesting a supplemental EIS, citing the UNM study as justification. As of November, the Forest Service was still reviewing the 1986 EIS to determine if a supplement is necessary.
Between 1882 and 1975, the Havasupai were forcibly relocated from about one million acres around the Grand Canyon’s rims down to the Colorado River to a 519-acre plot of land at the bottom of the canyon. In 1919, President Woodrow Wilson created Grand
Canyon National Park to federally protect the land the Havasupai once stewarded.
The Havasupai have opposed the mine for decades. They sued the Forest Service for allowing the mine to open on the grounds that it violated their First Amendment rights to freedom of religion and their aboriginal right of access to the site. They also claimed the Environmental Impact Statement was deficient and violated the National Environmental Policy Act. The judge dismissed the lawsuit in 1990.
Since, the Havasupai have attempted other lawsuits and organized several protests against the mine.
In August 2023, President Joe Biden proclaimed the Baaj Nwaavjo It’ah Kukveni Ancestral Footprints of the Grand Canyon National Monument. The designation protected the land surrounding the Grand Canyon from future mining, but many
mines, including Pinyon Plain, were grandfathered in under the General Mining Act of 1872.
Three months later, Republicans in the federal and state legislatures made moves to reverse the monument’s designation. U.S. Rep. Paul Gosar pushed for a bill amendment that would bar the Department of the Interior from spending money to implement, administer or enforce the monument.
Arizona Senate President Warren Petersen and House Speaker Ben Toma sued Biden for allegedly violating the Antiquities Act of 1906. Among other permissions, it grants presidents the authority to designate national monuments. The act was used to protect nearly 160 sites from future mining and development.
When the Hopi, Havasupai and Navajo Nation attempted to intervene in the lawsuit, a federal judge denied them in September under the justification that the U.S. government and Tribal Nations had aligned interests.
However, the federal government may not entirely be aligned with the tribes’ interests. Rep. Eli Crane, who opposed the monument’s creation, was re-elected in November to continue representing District 2, which covers most of northern Arizona.
Without the monument, the area could be open to more uranium mining operations.
The haul route between Pinyon Plain and White Mesa Mill slices through northern Arizona like a clay cutting wire.
The trucks depart near Tusayan, dip down to Flagstaff, use U.S. Route 160 to cut diagonally across the Navajo Nation, then reach its destination only five miles away from the White Mesa Ute Mountain Ute community. There, the uranium ore is processed for the next step in the nuclear fuel cycle.
Energy Fuels started to transport uranium ore along the route in July.
Along the road are rural tribal communities, tourist trap towns, billboards reading, “abandoned uranium mines may cause cancer,” long stretches of sandstone walls, neglected shacks covered in graffiti, vendors selling frybread or jerky or jewelry and vast red-orange desert.
Soon after Energy Fuels sent their first few trucks, Navajo Nation President Buu Nygren halted them and issued an executive order banning transportation until January.
Bears Ears National Monument surrounds a short stretch of the haul route, and its boundary is about one mile away from White Mesa Mill. In addition to its iconic geological features, the monument has great cultural and archeological significance to the area’s Native communities. Some sites in the monument are over 13,000 years old and include cliff dwellings, rock art and wellpreserved ancient plants.
Former President Barack Obama designated Bears Ears National Monument in 2016. A year later, Trump shrank the size of the monument by 85% after Energy Fuels lobbied for the Interior Department to change Bears Ears’ boundaries.
With the recommendation from Haaland, Biden restored Bears Ears’ boundaries to its original area in 2021.
Davina Smith represents the Navajo Nation on the Bears Ears Inter-Tribal Coalition, a non-profit organization that also consists
of Zuni, Ute, Ute Mountain Ute and Hopi representatives. The coalition assists the Bears Ears Commission — which manages the monument — in advocacy and communications efforts.
Smith said she finds the hauling of uranium ore concerning, both as a citizen of the Navajo Nation and as a resident of Blanding, which neighbors White Mesa. Growing up, she learned of the direct impacts uranium mining had on her family.
“My grandfather worked in uranium mines, and so, I saw firsthand the experiences my mother shared with me about my grandfather coming home with clothes that still had traces of yellow dirt, which they had no idea was contaminated,” Smith said. “My grandmother would wash his clothes while cooking, and having that around the home environment, my grandfather passed away from the impacts of that, as well as my grandmother.”
The yellow dirt Smith’s grandparents encountered was most likely tailings, or the debris from uranium mining and milling. According to the Center for Disease Control, ingestion or inhalation of uranium through tailings can lead to kidney damage.
In Diné Bizaad — the Navajo language — the word “leetso” means “uranium.” The literal translation is “yellow dirt,” in reference to the contaminated material many people who worked in or lived near these mines came into contact with. “Leetso Dooda,” or “No Uranium,” is a common slogan among Diné activists.
Bears Ears is a historic example of Indigenous communities being represented in the management of public land. Smith said she hopes the monument’s co-management provides a stepping stone for other tribes across the nation to participate in similar plans.
“Who lived in these areas before national monuments and parks were implemented, and then were pretty much pushed out of these areas?” Smith said. “I understand it was for protection, but tribes have always protected these areas.”
A sign for Tuba City Regional Health Care Corporation stands along U.S. Route 160 near Tuba City, Oct. 19.
In the desert of southeast Utah, nestled between red rocks, buttes, canyons, plateaus and mesas, lies White Mesa Mill.
The White Mesa Ute Community holds an annual spirit walk around Indigenous People's Day in October to protest the mill. Participants meet at the White Mesa Community Center, then walk five miles along the side of the highway to the mill, where they speak out against the facility’s environmental impacts.
In 2022, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) found the mill violated the Clean Air Act for storing nuclear waste from Superfund sites in uncovered cooling pools. While the mill covered one pool after this, one is still illegally uncovered, and thus cannot be used to store waste.
Ute Mountain Ute Tribal Council Representative Malcolm Lehi led the protest this year from his all-terrain vehicle. Behind him waved the Ute Mountain Ute flag.
“It’s heartbreaking to have a community member come up to me and tell me he’s got cancer, and
the first thought from the doctors as they talked to him is, ‘Do you think it came from the mill?’” Lehi said. “That thought haunts me since the day he told me that, and then, he tells me, ‘I don’t know how long I’m going to live,’ but as our ancestors and our elders spoke, he said the same thing. He said, ‘Take care of our lands. Take care of our land.’”
Energy Fuels’ website states the mill has “extensive controls in place to ensure protection of air, water, wildlife and the environment.”
In June 2023, the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services’ Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry published an evaluation of radiation levels in the air and water near the mill. Its main finding was that White Mesa community members are not likely to have health problems related to radiation exposure.
However, the report only had data from water samples and did not evaluate radon emissions, soil, vegetation or springs for radiation hazards. The evaluation recommended the Ute Mountain Ute collect samples from these areas for future research.
In 2022, the White Mesa Ute Mountain Ute received EPA funding to design a study with the CDC that will evaluate community members’ health, the area’s environmental conditions and any links those have to the mill. Results from this research are expected in 2025. Lehi spoke to the crowd of protesters, many of whom were sunburnt and streaked with sweat, once they had all gathered at the mill’s entrance. They sat or stood in front of a sign that read "0 days since a lost-time accident."
“They had no health coverage for these guys,” Lehi said. “They hired them because they knew that they could fire them if they wanted to. If they hired an Anglo person, they wouldn’t fire him. They would give him the coverage and tell him, ‘Go see the clinic or the hospital and send us the bill.’”
Tim Peterson, the Grand Canyon Trust’s cultural landscapes director, has been monitoring the mill through fly-over tours with EcoFlight for years.
Peterson explained the mill processes waste materials from Japan, Estonia and across the U.S., extracting the uranium and disposing the rest of the materials onsite.
“To date, about 700 million pounds of that material has come from these places around the country and around the world where
people didn’t want that material in their backyard, but it comes here to the backyard of the White Mesa Ute community,” Peterson said.
In early October, the White Mesa Ute community brought their concerns to the Utah Capitol in Salt Lake City. They protested on the building’s steps and called for the state to shut the mill down.
Meanwhile, Energy Fuels’ production is growing as their newlyopened mines in Utah and Arizona extract more uranium. According to the company’s third quarterly report for 2024, it produced 150,000 to 200,000 pounds of finished uranium. The company plans to have a production rate of 1.1 to 1.4 million pounds per year for 2025 and beyond.
“The last flight we did was this spring, and since then, there’s a lot more ore on the ore pad from the LaSal complex mines,” Peterson said. “They’ve been stockpiling that ore in anticipation of running what they call a ‘uranium campaign.’”
The mill’s uranium campaign is focused on creating yellowcake, a radioactive material that is sent to uranium conversion facilities to prepare for use as nuclear fuel. There is currently one uranium conversion facility in the United States, the Honeywell Uranium Hexafluoride Processing Facility in Illinois.
Manuel Pino has spent decades spreading awareness of the dangers of uranium mining. Pino is a former Indigenous studies professor at ASU and Scottsdale Community College, as well as the president of the Indigenous Environmental Network’s board of directors.
Pino is from Acoma Pueblo in New Mexico. Their reservation borders the Laguna Pueblo, where one of the largest abandoned openpit uranium mines, Jackpile Mine, has yet to be fully cleaned up.
Members of Pino’s community have received money from the Radiation Exposure Compensation Act (RECA), which compensates those experiencing health impacts from the Manhattan Project, including those who worked in the mines or lived downwind of nuclear testing. The act expired in June after the House of Representatives did not renew it.
“We have cancer clusters in the community,” Pino said. “Of course, some of the miners on our reservation have received compensation from RECA, but $150,000? How do you put a value on people’s lives? That’s still peanuts compared to the medical costs that they have encountered because of medical bills. Cancer is not an easy medical concern to cure.”
The Los Alamos National Laboratory got its start as one of three places where scientists conducted research for the Manhattan Project. Today, the Department of Energy uses the lab for nuclear stockpiling and plutonium pit production. For his 2025 budget proposal, Biden requested an increase in the lab’s funding from around $4 billion to more than $5 billion.
Pino said he can not understand the federal government spending money on the laboratory originally created to work on the Manhattan Project, but cutting off compensation for those exposed to radiation as a result of their proximity to the Project.
“Where’s the justification for that?” Pino said. “We have all these victims who gave their lives, sick and dying of all types of cancer, and it’s like they’re just forgotten about.”
In 1979, the largest nuclear disaster in the United States occurred in Church Rock, New Mexico, on the Navajo Nation. The dam of a uranium mill’s holding pond broke and spilled 1,000 tons of radioactive waste into the Puerco River. The spill received little-to-no media coverage, and signs warning locals about the contamination were not posted for days following. The human impact of the spill is unclear because the CDC did not study every radiation exposure pathway. Only six people were examined for radiation exposure. The CDC monitored inhalation of suspended tailings and ingestion of livestock but did not study ingestion of contaminated water or sediment.
The Environmental Protection Agency has removed 200,000 of 1.4 million tons of contaminated soil from the site.
A sign warns against radiation in front of an abandoned uranium mine in Cameron, Nov. 10. Chloe Legay
In his first term, Trump shrank the size of multiple national monuments to open more mining opportunities. In an Oct. 25 interview on the Joe Rogan Experience podcast, Trump commented on the advancement of nuclear power.
“We have certain areas where we have great, raw Earth and materials, and we’re not allowed to use it because of the environment … and I’m going to open it up and use it,” Trump said.
Biden paved the way for domestic nuclear development to continue after he banned Russian uranium imports and unlocked $2.72 billion to be used for domestic uranium enrichment.
The Heritage Foundation’s controversial collection of legislation proposed to Trump, Project 2025, calls to repeal the Antiquities Act. Project 2025 also includes a section proposing laws to ensure companies are held responsible for the nuclear waste they create. Holding companies accountable, however, is not always possible. Many of the companies that left waste on the Navajo Nation went bankrupt after uranium lost its value, and thus were not involved in the cleanup process.
Former Navajo Nation President Jonathan Nez said he believed the federal government should be responsible for the mines’ cleanup.
Some abandoned uranium mines are on the federal government’s list of superfund sites, meaning they are prioritized for cleanup projects.
The process is complicated, though. Before 2022, uranium waste from the Navajo Nation was transported to White Mesa Mill for storage, but because of its Clean Air Act violations, the mill can no longer accept waste from superfund sites until it covers all of its pools. With the 2024 election results, the future of public lands is uncertain, especially with the uranium industry’s boost in prominence.
Story by Marcel Herving
For over 800 years, northern Arizona has been home to at least 14 tribal nations with ancestral connections to the region who continue to experience the detrimental effects of settler colonialism.
Contributing to the forced assimilation and removal of Native Americans is the lengthy history of mining on reservation land. From 1944-86, over 500 mines were in operation on the Navajo Nation for the use of atomic weapons.
Uranium mining harms these communities, causing illness and death, by releasing toxic chemicals into their environments. Mining in the region has been proven to cause severe respiratory issues, such as lung cancer, tuberculosis and emphysema for people who came into longterm direct radiation exposure. Uranium mills have also contributed to groundwater contamination.
Uranium contamination poses an additional threat to many Native Americans’ traditional and spiritual relationship to the land they reside on.
Resistance against the federal government and mining companies began in the 1960s, when widows of Navajo uranium miners united over their husbands’ deaths. These individuals formed committees and hired an attorney which led to the 1990 Radiation Exposure Compensation Act.
In the 21st century, many groups have come together and created a coalition to bring awareness to uranium mining and the issues that follow it. Haul No!, a grassroots community-led movement and organization that emerged in 2017,
was spearheaded by late Klee Benally in conjunction with a coalition of people from a variety of tribes affected by the uranium mining in the Southwest.
Leona Morgan, a Diné organizer and co-founder of Haul No!, has personal ties to the detriments of uranium mining just like countless other Native Americans. She has witnessed many family members in western New Mexico experience health effects due to the uranium mining on their reservation.
“My family is from an area called Eastern Navajo, and my family being there, we saw a lot of mining, which started during the 50s,” Morgan said.
Morgan has been in activist spaces for years, as part of KIVA Club at the University
of New Mexico from 2004-07. The coalition was one of community, promoting leadership and unity among Native American UNM students.
She shifted her efforts on uranium mining after she was invited to a conference in Flagstaff on the harms of the operation in 2007.
“During that transition, I found my calling,” Morgan said. “I found out about uranium and its effects and then I was like, ‘OK, this is what killed my grandma,’ and that’s when I started learning about all of these things.”
Haul No! continues to make committed efforts to bring awareness to the harms of uranium mining through protest and education.
It is not only Native Americans participating in the advocacy to end uranium mining.
Sierra Club’s Grand Canyon Chapter formed in 1965 to protect the Colorado River and Grand Canyon National Park.
The Grand Canyon Chapter’s projects — Restore and Protect the Grand Canyon Ecoregion and a Water Sentinels program — focus on restoration and preservation efforts for the land and water sources surrounding the Grand Canyon. Now the organization has shifted its focus to the reopening of Pinyon Plain Mine.
Naturally occurring plants bring a variety of benefits to their ecosystems, such as reducing water usage and providing habitats and food for wildlife. They are also integral to the diet, medicine and ceremonies of Indigenous communities
To promote sustainable ecosystems and connections to nature, a senior capstone group is working on implementing the first Indigenous ethnobotanical garden at NAU. Ethnobotany is the study of how particular cultures use native plants for everyday resources, like soaps, shelters, oils and medicines.
Mariessa Fowler, a senior at NAU studying environmental sciences, is one of five members involved in the project. As a Diné, Zuni and Tewa woman, Fowler is passionate about the garden’s potential to foster cultural awareness and provide a sense of home for Indigenous students.
NAU resides on land sacred to the Acoma, Hopi, Tewa, Diné, Zuni, Havasupai, Hohokam, Hualapai, San Juan Southern Paiute, Kaibab Paiute, Yavapai, Fort Mojave, White Mountain Apache and San Carlos
tribes,” Fowler said. “They could be our point of contact because they know their government better than us. They know who they are. They know their people and their elected officials.”
The capstone students’ goal is to include plants that are culturally significant to all 14 nations, such as greenthread and sage, which Fowler said are both used by the Diné to treat stomach illnesses.
Native plants like these are adapted to Flagstaff’s high-desert climate and do not require excessive resources. The group plans to utilize barrels to collect potable rainwater for the garden.
With the garden in a high-traffic area, the capstone team wants students to engage with it in different ways. They are considering adding a labyrinth for meditation, conversation pit and a shade structure. The group also wants to encourage professors to use the garden as an outdoor teaching space and for student organizations to meet there.
Fowler said the group is still working on the details, but they plan to develop a request form so students can harvest from the garden.
Traditionally, Diné use cedar as an offering or blessing to cleanse a space or person; therefore, students might harvest the plant if they have an upcoming exam or plans to travel, Fowler said.
“You burn it, then you pray,” Fowler said. “Then you bless yourself ... you feel that you’re safe or like you’re guarded in a way. That’s kind of the way Navajo people use it.”
Taylor Joyal has worked as an associate professor at the School of Earth and Sustainability for 11 years and is overseeing the capstone project.
Joyal expects a finalized proposal for the garden from the group by the end of the fall semester that can be implemented later by the NAU Office of Sustainability or future capstone students.
Others have considered similar projects on campus, though none of those iterations have come to fruition, Joyal said.
“This is the first time that I’ve seen a level of engagement and excitement that I think is going to get somewhere, and that comes strongly from the team members,” Joyal said. “They’re all very committed to this and really see the value and see the potential.”
commitment to creating more inclusive spaces for Indigenous students on campus.
As of Fall 2024, there are more than 1,400 Indigenous students at NAU. This semester’s freshman class was 4.2% Native American — the largest ever enrolled at the Flagstaff mountain campus. Of all undergraduate students, 40% identify as first-generation college students.
“It can be really hard, especially if you’re a first-gen student or an
Fowler said her excitement for the project stems from her
Indigenous student who’s leaving home for the first time, and you’re homesick, and you just want somewhere to go connect in nature,” Fowler said.
Fowler said plants like juniper and desert globemallow remind her of her hometown in Page, Arizona. The Juniperus plant is native to the Sonoran Desert and is sometimes used by members of the Navajo Nation to make jewelry that provides peace, protection and healing. Desert globemallow is also native to the Southwest and can treat stomach aches, coughs and colds.
Joyal said the group is focused on building momentum and funding so progress on the garden can continue when group members graduate.
“The real beauty of this project is more in line with that it’s celebrating Indigenous cultures in a way that’s very visually present on campus,” Joyal said.
The garden will be one of the first of its kind at a university in the western United States, Fowler said, paving the way for more inclusive and environmental spaces on college campuses.
The in-between, the uncertain, the transient and transformative; shadowy corridors, lusterless recesses and umbral alcoves. It is these places, with their quiet magic, that hold the key to one’s identity.
Liminality, or the state between two distinct places, phases or experiences, originated as an anthropological concept. With French and Latin roots, the concept was highlighted by ethnographer Arnold van Gennep. He used the term in his 1909 book, “Rites of Passage,” to describe a transitional stage — perceived or material — in human development.
I take the far back elevator. / Here I am midair suspended / going up? / half a beat of respite; an entreaty for a crash. / Tell me who I am; show me a sign / whisper the answers in my ear. / Or, send me plummeting through the floor.
I chased elucidation in cathedrals overseas / in prose / on mountain tops / in mirrors. I found it in the dark.
Ifind myself here daily, but I still have to gain my bearings and remember which way is north. The lights, vaguely green, flicker a little, and I try not to picture the cable snapping as the elevator slouches upward. It rumbles and shakes like, at any moment, it might resign itself — and me with it— to a life of limbo suspended between the first and second story.
I am in the unsteady elevator on my way to reshelve volumes in the far recesses of Cline Library. For a second, it is just me, my cart and a silent prayer that we make it upstairs in one piece.
My time spent in here makes me think about the impact of such narrow corners on my life. It is everyday moments like these that I will remember when I think back about my college experience.
An elevator might be the pinnacle of liminality, if there is one. An elevator is purgatory, except I get to decide if I am going down or up.
Describing transitions along a spectrum of magico-religious rituals — a term referring to the intersection of occult divination and cultural custom — van Gennep identifies liminal rites in universal life phases. The space between conception and birth, birth and the acquisition of a soul and adolescence and adulthood can all be liminal. Physical locations, such as doorways, stairwells, airports and waiting rooms, can also be described in this way. For many people, these places inspire feelings of stress and discomfort. In my life, the liminal is a setting for revelation, epiphany and radical change.
You know, Heaven / is a dimly lit hallway. The windowless passage is hallowed. Here you can’t see / through my transparent skin and watch me glow red / read me like a crumpled receipt / hold me up to the light, and I might combust.
My bones / are redundant. / Take them. I won’t need them here. / I promise I am happy / as pulp with endless possibility.
Golden light spills through a spiral stairwell in Cline Library, Nov. 8.
My First / Communion in shapeless stasis. My Baptism / by flickering light. My encounter with God crouched here / in this corner. Find me downstairs / at the altar of impermanence.
If I wander this corridor for the rest of my life, / I might find what I’m looking for.
Riles, home to the Department of Comparative Cultural Studies, is something of an incubator for my half-formed personhood. I spend the majority of my week here interpreting messages from the universe through art and culture.
The first floor is mostly subterranean and incredibly liminal. It is quiet and dimly lit; footsteps ring up and down narrow red stairwells. Most days, I am simply passing through on the way to the lighted third floor, where you can observe the heavens through a skylight.
It is quite an unusual setting for a collection of artists and scholars. Students and professors are huddled close to the earth while we debate lofty ideas, read ancient literature and explore the transcendent and divine, art and identity.
The roof of the brick building might be the only thing that keeps us from floating up into space.
Despite its liminality, or maybe because of it, Riles feels magnetic. It is a space infused with endless possibilities.
Recognizing the magic of liminal spaces is a way to participate in the reenchantment of the world or the active search for spiritual meaning in an essentially rationalist modern society.
To exist in the liminal is to exist beyond the domain of social convention, out of view of expectations, in a place of constant flux. Here, rules are diminished and boundaries are rendered porous. That is what makes these spaces a great environment for introspection and transformation.
Rays of light reflect off the floors of a dead-end hallway, Nov. 8.
Appreciating nooks, corners and crannies as a manifestation of the liminal unlocks a new realm of possibilities and a setting for genuine self-reflection that is otherwise unseen. Those with a keen and creative eye can seek liminality and, in so doing, encounter themselves and the world around them at once.
By Molly Hunter
I take the far back elevator. / Here I am midair suspended / going up? / half a beat of respite; an entreaty for a crash. / Tell me who I am show me a sign / whisper the answers in my ear. / Or send me plummeting through the floor.
I chased elucidation in cathedrals overseas / in prose / on mountain tops / in mirrors. I found it in the dark.
You know, Heaven is a dimly lit hallway. The windowless passage is hallowed. Here you can’t see / through my transparent skin and watch me glow red / read me like a crumpled receipt / hold me up to the light, and I might combust.
My bones / are redundant. / Take them. I won’t need them here. / I promise I am happy / as pulp with endless possibility.
My First / Communion in shapeless stasis. My Baptism / by flickering light. My encounter with God crouched here / in this corner. Find me downstairs / at the altar of impermanence.
If I wander this corridor for the rest of my life / I might find what I’m looking for.
Aspen tress stand tall above the forest floor on Flagstaff’s Veit Springs Loop Trail, Oct. 16. The trail is one mile south of Aspen Corner, a popular hiking area for Flagstaff locals and visitors. Veit Springs does not offer any explicit views of the San Francisco Peaks, but hikers can witness a larger population of wildlife and aspens compared to higher up on the peaks. Nathan Ecker
n the afternoon, the Flagstaff roadways are filled with people commuting home. While some may traverse the sidewalks or contribute to the 5 p.m. standstill Milton traffic, others travel on the many trails sprawled throughout the city.
NAU’s south campus trails stretch through a shaded forest, leading behind neighborhoods to parks and gardens off Lone Tree Road. These paths are part of a web of interconnected trails throughout Flagstaff, known as the Flagstaff Urban Trails System (FUTS), used for recreational use and transportation.
FUTS is pronounced “foots,” a name fitting for the pedestrians who hike through the trail system, though cyclists can also take these routes.
From the airport to the Museum of Northern Arizona and beyond the Flagstaff Mall, swaths of the city are connected and accessible through a series of uninterrupted dirt and paved pathways.
The trail system is so extensive that some may walk parts of it and not know how far it extends around the city.
Martin Ince, the senior transportation planner for the city of Flagstaff, said the FUTS Committee established the trail system in 1988. When the system first began, three trails covered around three miles.
The system is now roughly 58 miles in length, linking Buffalo Park in east Flagstaff to Sinclair Wash, located by Fort Tuthill County Park.
The Flagstaff Regional Plan, “Vision 2030: Place Matters,” proposes an additional 75 miles of trails. While the plan does not establish the official location of future trails, it offers a rough idea of where the city wants to put them.
“We may never complete it,” Ince said. “The ones we work on are the ones that we think are most important or will provide the most benefit for the community.”
In 2014, the city ratified “Vision 2030: Place Matters,” which must be updated and readopted every 10 years alongside public review sessions. It has been 10 years since it was last voted on, so the plan has been updated to reflect changes until 2045. The 60-day public review began Oct. 20 and will end Dec. 19.
A survey conducted by the city in 2017 showed roughly half of the
trail’s use comes from people commuting, often between home, school or work. Eighty-seven percent of those surveyed said they use the trail for relaxation, and 83% said they use it for exercise.
The survey found the NAU Trail, Sinclair Wash Trail and Nate Avery Trail were some of the most frequently used FUTS trails. The city prioritizes these trails when conducting repair.
“If we can’t do all 75 miles, we want to make sure we’re doing the ones that are going to be most useful,” Ince said.
As the trail system expands, so does its usage. Ince said the city’s
A trail sign points hikers in the right direction on Flagstaff’s Veit Springs Loop Trail, Oct. 16. Nathan Ecker
survey showed FUTS is among the most used forms of transportation in the city. Twenty-nine percent of residents ride a bicycle at least once a week for recreation or commuting.
Kari Righetti has lived on NAU’s campus for a year and uses FUTS trails to explore NAU and Flagstaff.
“My husband works on campus, so we bike and hike here and all over Flagstaff,” Righetti said.
According to Data USA, a website that breaks down government statistics for the public, the average Flagstaff home had two cars in 2022. Additionally, the data showed most people in Flagstaff drove for their commute, taking an average of 15.6 minutes.
The amount of carbon dioxide emitted from one mile of driving is typically 400 grams. According to research conducted by the University of Michigan, avoiding 10 miles of driving every week eliminates around 500 pounds of carbon dioxide emissions.
With a complicated trail system connecting popular
The 1988 FUTS Committee was created to allow volunteers to help maintain the trail system. In addition, Ince said full-time staff from the Parks and Recreation Department work to maintain FUTS.
The Adopt-a-FUTS program enables local organizations or individuals to “adopt” and maintain responsibility for a trail for at least two years. People can also volunteer for a one-time community cleanup.
A town known for its famous hikes, Flagstaff’s atmosphere and revenue are partly driven by the town’s proximity to nature.
For many residents, enjoying the surrounding nature is part of their daily routines. Matthew Davis is a first-year student at NAU who moved to Flagstaff a couple months ago and uses the trail daily.
Davis rides his bike south on the trail to get to school. For recreation, he rides his bike north to the Arizona Trail, a 800-mile trail that stretches from Mexico to Utah and passes through Flagstaff.
“This is my favorite thing about moving here,” Davis said. “Where I always wanted to move is somewhere with access to nature like this, especially right next to my house.”
Occasionally, natural disasters or flooding can obstruct the trails.
Davis said since moving to Flagstaff, he has enjoyed biking through the path when it is flooded by rain or melted snowfall.
“If you go on a flooding day, it’s really cool down there,” Davis said. “It floods completely over the trail. You have to bike through the water, which is kind of cool and fun.”
Courtesy guidelines for how to properly navigate the FUTS trail system, like signaling, bike speeds and pet regulation, are available on the city’s website.
Rose Baillie contributed to this story.
Story and design by Noah Butler Athlete portraits courtesy of NAU Athletics
Although Flagstaff is denoted a Dark Sky City, it acts as a beacon for athletes from many walks of life. They flock to Flagstaff from around the world to train in elevation and experience the small mountain town’s culture. For many international college athletes, the northern Arizona scene is one diverse from their hometown, set high in the San Francisco peaks.
The summit of the town’s highest point, Humphreys Peak, is considered the apex of Arizona and an athletic feat worthy of those who live in Flagstaff.
Across NAU’s 11 sports, 38 of the university’s student athletes hail from outside the United States. The Australian contingent is the largest contributor, with seven athletes in five different sports, followed closely by England with five.
Athletes come from areas of the world where America’s traditions and customs are starkly different from the ones they are used to.
Take NAU football’s freshman offensive lineman Clinton Azubuike, for example.
Azubuike grew up in the heart of Lagos, Nigeria, a hustling and bustling city and most populous metropolitan area in Africa at nearly 21 million residents. The city is spread over 1,700 acres and multiple islands that lie within the Lagos Lagoon, an inland body of water that has one port out to the Gulf of Guinea.
Lagos is one of the fastest growing cities in the world, according to NPR, with a large volume of people milling about at all times. City life in Lagos is fast-paced, Azubuike said, and getting around town takes a lot of effort.
“You [have] got to know what you’re doing,” Azubuike said. “If you’re stepping out, you have to have a goal in mind, or else you’re just going to get lost in the sauce.”
One goal Azubuike had was his pursuit of playing basketball at a
young age. Following the advice of his late brother, he made the move to pursue American football.
Azubuike went to one of the first NFL African camps in Ghana, 300 miles away from Lagos, where NFL Academy scouts saw him in action. Those scouts offered Azubuike a scholarship to study and train at the league’s academy in Loughborough, England, when he was in high school.
Azubuike said his time at the academy was perfect for him and his career.
“I won’t say that I didn’t see that for myself, but it was quite a shock to me,” Azubuike said. “I had coaches flying in from America to come see me. I had offers and everything, so it was just an amazing opportunity.”
College coaches came to scout the 6-foot-8 lineman, and Azubuike received multiple offers to play at Division I schools, including the University of Hawaii, University of Alabama at Birmingham, Campbell University, the University of Buffalo and NAU.
Azubuike said he chose to be a Lumberjack because it gave him a greater chance for playing time. NAU needed offensive line depth, and he knew the coaches would trust him to develop.
“It was the coaches,” Azubuike said. “The coaches gave me reassurance. They had a goal for me, the same goal I had for myself. I’m not trying to go to all of them and not play. I’m trying to see some playing time.”
The lineman has only appeared in one contest thus far — against the University of Idaho in Moscow in October — but as he continues to grow as a player, more playing time will come.
Flagstaff’s size, a dot compared to his home city, provides a simplicity that Azubuike said helps him focus on the game.
“I’m not trying to go to the big city where you can easily get distracted,” Azubuike said. “I’m trying to come here, focus on football, focus on school, do what I have to do that will help me get to the NFL.”
Almost 3,000 miles northeast from Azubuike’s home town lies Ankara, the capital of Turkey. The city is home to many historically significant buildings. One of the most famous is the Augusteum, a temple dedicated to Augustus, Rome’s first emperor, and other ancient Roman rulers. It is a landmark of the city, and thousands of people travel every year to see it.
Nearly 6 million people live in the sprawling city; one that blends eras of history from the Celtic times to the Ottoman Empire, with more modern construction and city planning intertwined within.
Leigh Rickwood
Men’s basketball Junior forward
Hometown: Busselton, Australia
Photo courtesy of Busselton-Dunsborough Mail
Ankara is also home to redshirt freshman forward Ceren Oturakci, who made the move to NAU women’s basketball and the Western Hemisphere last season.
She looks back fondly on her time in Turkey, a country that is known for its upward of 4 million stray cats that walk the streets — one of which Ankara adopted with her sister.
“It would be the first time I adopted my cat,” Oturakci said. “I found him on the streets, and that was probably my best memory of my childhood.”
Close family ties helped Oturakci find basketball. Oturakci started playing the sport when she was 10. She had family along for the ride the enitre time and her first coach was her aunt.
Oturakci played for a sports club for six years before going to a youth development club for Turkish professional team Cankaya, a university-level team based in the city. She held a spot on the roster for three seasons until teams began scouting her. Drawn to NAU’s coaching staff and the university’s culture, she ultimately decided to take the leap to the U.S.
Oturakci did not want to make the choice between basketball and an academic career in Turkey, and the U.S. provided that option.
“In the USA, you can do college and basketball at the same time,” Oturakci said. “But when you get to a certain age in Turkey, you have to choose a certain path. Either you focus on college or basketball. I didn’t want to do that.”
Unlike Oturakci’s straight-shot journey to northern Arizona, men’s basketball junior forward Leigh Rickwood-Pitt had a more winding path to become a Lumberjack.
Rickwood-Pitt grew up in a small coastal town in southwest Australia called Busselton, a place he said is one where people try to work their way out of.
“It’s a very, very small town,” Rickwood-Pitt said. “Everyone knows each other. The schools are pretty small. Growing up and trying to get
out of Busselton is pretty big. A lot of people get stuck in there because it’s so far from our main city, Perth.”
Busselton is a tourist city 140 miles southwest of the large western city of Perth and is home to the longest wooden pier in the Southern Hemisphere.
The town’s white sandy beaches and cultural attractions, which draw in both native Australians and tourists, are a part of RickwoodPitt’s childhood that he holds close.
“My favorite memory was probably going down to the beach whenever I could,” Rickwood-Pitt said. “Especially when summer hits, like November to December time. I remember sitting on the beach during Christmas time. Anything around the beach I miss.”
His basketball journey started when he was around 15 years old, when he joined his friends’ team to avoid being left out.
From there, he was invited to try out for the regional and state teams and was scouted to play in Thatcher through a prospect tournament. From that tournament, he was recruited by Eastern Arizona College (EAC) in Thatcher, Arizona in 2021.
“Aussie Prospects holds a tournament every year that’s broadcasted to college coaches,” Rickwood-Pitt said. “I played in that tournament, and played pretty well, and coach [Cameron] Turner saw me and sent me an offer from there.”
Rickwood-Pitt played at EAC for two years before coming to Flagstaff, which proved easy moving from one small town to the next, he said. Since he arrived at NAU in May, he said his favorite part has been spending time with his teammates whenever he can, cherishing his time in northern Arizona.
“Whenever the team is fully together, there’s some memories being made,” Rickwood-Pitt said. “There’s memories made everywhere that I’ll definitely remember.”
Where are the
from?
Story by James Patberg and Rachel Vazquez
by Lukas Wisner and Jason Maggio Illustrations by Alexis Beaman
Old Main, the oldest building at NAU, was built by architectural firm Brown and Fisher in 1894. It was originally constructed as a reform school, then turned into a psychiatric ward. The building was empty until Arizona Gov. Nathan Oakes recommended the space be used for a university. Arizona Sen. Henry F. Ashurst introduced a bill establishing NAU, formerly the Northern Arizona Normal School, in 1899. Ashurst Hall was built as an attachment to Old Main in his honor in 1917. The hall is now used for events, with Old Main housing the Clara M. Lovett Art Museum, Marguerite Hettel Weiss Art Museum and offices for alumni. Its brick exterior and stone steps leading to its entrance are a common background for graduation photos.
North Quad is located at the northern most part of campus by Old Main, Nov. 7. Lukas Wisner
Gammage Library was built by architects Lee Mason Fitzhugh and Lester A. Byron 1930. It was named after Grady Gammage, president of Arizona State Teachers College at Flagstaff. The building originally held offices, classrooms, the school newspaper and a library. Since the construction of Cline Library in 1966, Gammage is used for account services, registrar, scholarship and financial aid offices. While the purpose of the building changed, the original Italian Renaissance style remains.
North Quad is a popular place for student activities and taking photos, but it has not always been the greeneryfilled sanctuary it is today. Before its renovation in 2010, the area was an asphalt road and parking lot. Ayers Saint Gross, an architectural firm specializing in designing college campuses, remodeled the location into a space dedicated to student life. Prioritizing pedestrian pathways and a tree preservation plan, — which involves maintaining existing plantings to ensure the longevity of the landscape — has morphed the north quad into a common space for students to relax.
Constructed in 2015, the Science and Health building became the prime spot for biochemistry and chemistry. The building was designed to mimic geological beauty. The jagged glass walls of the interior are meant to be reminiscent of a cracked-open geode. The bronze shell around the rest of the building is inspired by the look of layers of sedimentary rock found in the mountains near Flagstaff. Inside, the angled staircase represents the crystalline formations found within caves.
Located between the Physical Sciences building and Science Annex lies a more recent installation. What was once an atrium, with cracked concrete and an overgrowth of plants, is now a discrete and zen sanctuary for students. The project, titled the Begovac Family Secret Garden Endowment, was led by Denielle Perry, an associate professor for the School of Earth and Sustainability. The atrium was completed in 2022 in collaboration with the NAU Green Fund and Perry’s students, who planted many of the flora which are paired with descriptive name plates. The space now stands as a stark contrast to what it once was.
The Communication building was constructed by RNL Design, Johnson Walzer Associates and Sundt Construction in 2005. The building allows students to explore various medias and tools for communication. A visual design lab and the Media Innovation Center, which houses NAU’s student-run newspaper, broadcast center and radio station, are located on the first floor. Other accommodations include a public speaking lab, art galleries and video and camera equipment.
The living room in the Center for Native American and Indigenous Futures provides a peaceful place for students to gather, Oct. 26. Lukas Wisner
The Center for Native American and Indigenous Futures (CNAIF) was built by architect firm Studio Ma, Inc. and Brignall Construction in 2011. This center was designed with the help of 22 tribal leaders to provide a space for the success and support of Native American students. CNAIF is a circular building with offices lining the walls and a central gathering hall, with the entrance facing east to welcome the morning sun. The roof has planes designed to absorb sunlight for additional heat and harvesting potential. The building uses many energy efficient methods, including natural lighting and regulating the building with fresh air to provide comfort for students and faculty.
The John Haeger Health and Learning Center, named after a previous NAU president, was renovated by Cannon Design and Mortenson construction company in 2011. The first floor includes medical and counseling services, the health promotion office, a smoothie bar, Urgent Care and an entrance to the recreation center. In the center of the building is the largest and only escalator in all of northern Arizona. The upper floors are filled with classrooms, private exercise rooms and study areas. The third floor has its own restaurant, the Green Scene Cafe, with a communal area and outdoor patio. During the week, this building is full, with various health and academic opportunities.
The entrance of the John Haeger Health and Learning Center is decorated in signs directing students to resources, Oct. 21. Lukas Wisner
NThe Applied Research and Development building is located in Central Campus across from the Honors College, Oct. 26. Lukas Wisner
AU’s Applied Research and Development building (ARD) is one of the only buildings in the United States to receive an esteemed international award for architectural design. Built in 2007, around one-third of the building was constructed from recycled materials, including thousands of pairs of blue jeans. What sets this building apart from the rest of campus is how environmentally efficient it is, using solar and wind power, reclaimed water and Indigenous landscaping techniques. It is one of the many LEED-certified (Leader in Energy and Environmental Design) buildings on campus, alongside the International Pavillion, Student Academic Services and 12 more.
Built in 1977, the J. Lawrence Walkup Skydome was designed by architect Wendell Rossman and The Maridan Construction Company. This one-of-a-kind white dome is supported with arched wooden beams and an amphitheater design to protect against weather. Two Louie the Lumberjack statues, built by California’s Prewitt Fiberglass in 1963, welcome students and families at the entrance to enjoy various athletic events and commencement ceremonies. On game days, the parking lots are known for tailgates, where stands serve barbecued food and guests can get drinks in the beer garden.
LA statue of Louie stands outside the J. Lawrence Walkup Skydome on south campus, Oct. 26.
“The Benchmark”
Installed between 1983 and 1984, the du Bois Center statue, “The Benchmark” was designed by art professor Jim O’Hara and his architecture students. Students commonly refer to the statue as the “french fries,” “kelp” or “icicles” sculpture. “The Benchmark” was created out of recycled, fabricated aluminum sheets, originally constructed to vent exhaust from the basement of the du Bois Center using steel tubes, though this is no longer the case. O’Hara also designed the sculpture to demonstrate the workings of nature. Depending on the weather, the sculpture can reflect the blue sky or create the illusion of flowing water or frozen ice.
Outside the du Bois South Union stands “The Benchmark,” created from recycled aluminum sheets, Nov. 8. Lukas Wisner
ocated at the southern end of NAU’s campus is the Southwest Forest Science Complex, partially designed by Gisela McCormick, the assistant to the dean of the School of Forestry, in 1992. The building features a unique exterior surrounded by trees of varying species and sizes and an interior filled with windows and live plants. Before it was built, the forestry program operated out of Old Main. Later, realizing the need for a dedicated space, the university constructed the Southwest Forest Science Complex. Today, it houses the School of Forestry, the Ecological Restoration Institute and the NAU Centennial Forest offices.
The Southwest Forestry Science Complex is located at south campus, and the inside is decorated with elaborate wood architecture, Nov. 8. Lukas Wisner
A BNSF train passes through the tracks outside the Flagstaff Visitors Center, Oct. 24. Landon Johnson
Story By Sarah Manning Photos By Landon Johnson and Caitlyn Anderson Illustration By Calleigh Juday ROUTE
Flagstaff is one of many towns located along historic Route 66, influencing the town’s original infrastructure.
Now, Interstate 40 and the Santa Fe Railroad resemble Route 66’s first path out west, allowing travelers to experience what it was once like on the “Mother Road.”
Flagstaff’s downtown is centered around the train station, which was built in 1926 and is a hub for busy travelers today. More than 100 trains pass through town daily. Most are Burlington North and Santa Fe rail cars carrying cargo across the nation.
Amtrak, America’s largest passenger train service, offers more than 30 routes around the country and parts of Canada.
Travelers departing from Flagstaff on Amtrak will board the Southwest Chief line, which goes from Chicago to Los Angeles, following the same path that Route 66 once did. The road became the birthplace of the country’s roadside culture and hospitality, with American classics, like fast food restaurants, diners, motels and gas stations.
Locomotive and highway travel seeped into the music industry, creating classic road
trip songs that remain favorites today.
Linda Theriault is an Arizona local and has worked at the Amtrak station for five years in the train depot.
She said throughout her hours working at the station, the people are what keep her there.
“Everybody comes here from all over,” Theriault said. “We have Europeans from so many different countries and local transportation services that collect people here to continue their travels.”
Train travel offers onboard amenities, such as dining cars, private sleeping cabins and the freedom to step off the train at each stop for a breath of fresh air. Although train travel is slower than other modes of transportation at an average of 55 mph, many appreciate “Watching the Wheels” go by.
With the range of people coming into the station, Theriault said the depot switches between locomotive commotion and tranquil monotony.
“You never know what or who will show up, but usually, it is pretty calm here,” Theriault said.
“A Horse With No Name” by America
“Train Leaves Here This Morning” by the Eagles
“Ventura Highway” by America
“Wide Open Spaces” byThe Chicks
“Can’t You See” by The MarshallTucker Band
“Going to California” by Led Zeppelin
“Midnight Rider” byThe Allman Brothers Band
“Tuesday’s Gone” by Lynyrd Skynyrd
“Like a Rolling Stone” by Bob Dylan
“Take it Easy” by the Eagles
“Watching the Wheels” by John Lennon
“Turn the Page” by Bob Seger &The Silver Bullet Band
“(Get Your Kicks on) Route 66” byThe King ColeTrio
Amtrak passengers can observe the less traveled backroads, “Wide Open Spaces” and towns of the Southwest. Seligman, Kingman, Holbrook and Winslow all have attractions centered around the theme of Route 66, continuing to bring tourists in searching for nostalgia of the past.
Despite the efforts to preserve the past, most communities along the path did not survive the development of I-40 and were abandoned shortly after the interstate’s arrival. Now, the highway bypasses towns that once flourished from the tourism Route 66 brought in.
Two Guns, located 30 miles east of Flagstaff, was once booming alongside Route 66 with gas stations and motels. One of its attractions was a zoo with panthers and mountain lions; remnants can still be found today.
Winslow is a gateway to the Grand Canyon, the only one of the seven natural wonders of the world located in America. The stop receives visitors from around the globe, featuring plenty of opportunities to enjoy the retro atmosphere the town cultivates.
The passenger train offers a level of convenience and destination options for people leaving Flagstaff or on their way to visit, unlike flying. Flagstaff Pulliam Airport consists of only two gates, limiting the number of departures and arrivals. This can make it difficult for students to get home, encouraging more to experiment with the accessibility of the train.
Amtrak is implementing more accessible features to improve the overall travel experience for everyone. As of July 2024, Amtrak invested $155 million to
upgrade station accessibility nationwide, from improving building platforms and parking lots to adding more Passenger Information Display Systems, where audio and visual train statuses are available.
Amtrak allows younger generations to experience similar views as those who traveled before them on Route 66.
Sophia Lopez is an NAU senior and frequent Amtrak traveler, taking the train home to California via the Southwest Chief route. Heading west on a “Midnight Rider,” the train leaves Flagstaff around 9 p.m. and arrives in Los Angeles in the early morning. This allows for passengers to experience desert scenery and iconic landscapes along Route 66.
“The sunrise is always pretty to see because you are in the middle of the desert, which normally isn’t as appealing to me,”
Lopez said. “It just brings you a different perspective on everything around you, even if you got a bad night’s sleep on the train.”
The morning light paints colorful hues across the desert landscape in Southern California, inviting curious minds out West for almost a century. Lopez’s path mirrors the one people took to Hollywood to become stars.
The year after Route 66 began construction in 1926, Hollywood was introduced to audio recording, creating a new scene for movies and music. Singer-songwriters on the journey wrote about their experiences, creating a songbook of the West inspiring others to get their kicks on Route 66.
Lopez said the rails are compelling to solo travelers because of the vastness of the changing scenery and the possibility of halfempty train cars.
“The train is pretty late at night here, so it is a very individual ride,” Lopez said. “Most people pull out a book or watch a movie after getting situated before trying to sleep.”
Along the Southwest Chief’s path, the wide open spaces of the American West form an appealing connection between the solo traveler and the solitude of the land. Despite the modern and more efficient ways of transportation that now exist, the train’s route recalls the history of Route 66.
tracks
A freight train conductor waves to the camera as the train passes by the Flagstaff
for
inside
Train tracks head west at the Flagstaff train station, Oct. 24.
NAU students often make the drive to Phoenix; some visiting home, heading to the airport or going to any of the various events held in the desert city. The two-hour drive provides a glimpse into the geological features of Arizona.
Interstate 17 is the quickest route from Phoenix to Flagstaff, infamous for continuous construction and car accidents. The road gains approximately 6,000 feet in elevation and showcases Arizona’s diverse landscapes, which can potentially alleviate some road rage.
A stereotype of Arizona is that it is a barren desert with little to no biodiversity. The progression of terrain on the drive to Flagstaff
defies that misconception, with desert, desert grasslands, chaparral, woodland and forest biomes.
Phoenix is located in the northeast corner of the Sonoran Desert, which stretches over the California and Mexico borders. Sitting at 1,000 feet above sea level, desert temperatures can reach over 110 degrees Fahrenheit for months at a time. Flora, fauna and Phoenicians alike have learned to adapt to these temperatures.
This desert is the only home in the world to the saguaro cactus, a staple of the region. The keystone species can live to be over 150 years old and provides shelter, food and wildlife protection. Woodpeckers, finches and
owls build nests and seek refuge within the ribbed structures.
The greater Phoenix metropolitan area competes with the San Fernando Valley in Los Angeles County for the nickname “the Valley.” The title simply identifies the geological feature cradling the two cities. The valley in southern Arizona is surrounded by mountain ranges, such as the Superstition Mountains, the McDowell Mountain Range and the Mazatzal Mountains, home to the Four Peaks. They form the horizon, making every desert view feel like a new experience.
Continuing north on I-17 takes drivers higher in elevation through Anthem and Black Canyon City. The road sits next to one of Arizona’s picturesque national monuments, Agua Fria. On the opposite side of the interstate is a local staple, Rock Springs Cafe. The pitstop offers a variety of homemade pies and other roadtrip snacks to keep drivers full and motivated.
The 20 miles after Black Canyon City consist of a 2,000-foot elevation gain, leading voyagers to a mesa with views of the surrounding canyons. In early springtime, the grass is swallowed by a sea of blooming yellow flowers, providing a warm glimpse into the Phoenix weather for those escaping the spring snow. Sunset Point Rest Area is an opportune stop to enjoy the views of the rolling hills.
The Arizona Department of Transportation is conducting the I-17 Improvement Project on the stretch of interstate between Anthem and Sunset Point. The construction began in 2022 and will add highway capacity, reduce traffic and increase safety measures by 2025. Students who started at NAU in 2022 may not see this steep section of the road construction-free until their senior year.
The abrupt elevation change marks the beginning of the chaparral biotic community, dominated by drought-adapted evergreen shrubs that thrive on top of the sunny plateau. The horizons have less geological and biological diversity but provide a fresh perspective of Arizona’s topography.
I-17 stretches northeast along the mesa and drops off into the woodland biome surrounding Camp Verde and Rimrock. On a clear day, the decline allows for views of Sedona and the San Francisco Peaks, a reminder of the final destination.
Rock Formations in Black Canyon City enchant the view on Coldwater Road off Interstate 17, Oct. 20.
On the I-17 going from Flagstaff to Phoenix, there is a wide-open view near
Drivers may notice traffic lighten up around Highway 179, with many pulling off to visit Sedona. Those continuing up I-17 can still enjoy the vibrant red rocks from the edge of the Mogollon Rim.
The Mogollon Rim is a geological feature that extends over 200 miles across northeastern Arizona and marks the distinct transition into the forest of the Colorado Plateau. The biosphere is home to the San Francisco Peaks to the north and the White Mountains to the east.
The rim formed after years of erosion and displacement created two level areas with distinctly different elevations. Landmarks, such as Fossil Creek Canyon, Tonto Natural Bridge and the world-famous Sedona red rocks, were carved in the layers of sandstone and limestone.
While the climb up the rim can prove a challenge for a car’s cruise control, it provides one-of-a-kind views of the land below. Spots along forest roads double as camping spots and photo opportunities. The Edge of the World, one of the most popular among NAU students, showcases the views of the rim from the trees above.
Although there are no Sasquatch rumors in the forests of northern Arizona, the Mogollon Rim is home to similar local folklore: the Mogollon Monster. Multiple people have reported sightings of a 7-foot ape-like creature that emits a pungent smell and a high-pitched whistling sound. The lore creates bone-chilling campfire stories for visitors of the rim.
After ascending the edge of the Mogollon Rim, I-17 enters the ponderosa pines of Coconino National Forest. The 7,000 feet of elevation makes this the perfect spot to roll down a window and compare the cool temperatures to the dry heat of the desert.
As the distance to Flagstaff shrinks, the San Francisco Peaks grow larger through the front windshield. The top of Humphreys Peak marks the highest point in Arizona at 12,637 feet.
Over 200,000 years ago, the mountain range existed as one volcano, standing at around 16,000 feet. A landslide eruption caused the collapse of the mountain, which formed the six peaks visible today.
The top of the peaks house the alpine tundra biome, which can be seen for miles across the state, even into the warm summer months of May and June.
The peaks hold cultural significance to the 14 Native American tribes who call the area home. Each community has different names for the sacred peaks. In Diné, the name is Dook’o’oosłííd and roughly translates to “the summit which never melts.”
Visitors and locals alike attempt to summit the mountain, the tallest hike in the state. When the trail is covered in snow, many people hop on skis or a snowboard and head up the lift at Arizona Snowbowl
The elevation in combination with clear skies can allow spectators to catch a glimpse of the Grand Canyon 50 miles to the north.
Within two hours and 145 miles, Arizona showcases varying biomes that highlight the different ends of the state’s biological spectrum. The drive provides a defense against anyone who says Arizona is just a barren desert.
Cleaning
Framing
Glazing
Mat