Superior
...an almost-ghost town with attitude

Arizona: May, 1997

It is Monday morning rush hour in Superior. The town's single set of traffic lights holds up a solitary pick up truck on its way up to the post office.

An old man sits in the shade of a tree. Most of the shops and businesses on Main Street have obviously been closed for some time. The cinema, the Magma Hotel, the supermarket, the barber shop, the laundromat, are all boarded up. The dress shop is having a closing down sale, much to the delight of Lenore and Erica, who now own Superior cotton dresses.

The copper mines that once fed the wealth of the town have been abandoned, or are merely extracting the last traces of ore from tailings, and the railways that ran to the mills twist from their sleepers or disappear under sand.

The sun is strong; the check-out girl at the discount store, faced with a line up of two, is flustered; cats sit in the shade; three young males cruising in a truck make whooping noises at my lycra cycling shorts, then, when Lenore arrives, make similar comments about her legs — at least they don't discriminate!

I've cycled to Superior from the camp site at Oak Flat. It was a four mile steep downhill ride, exhilarating and frightening, especially as I free-wheel through a tunnel with a semi-trailer roaring up behind me. The town is surrounded by mesas and canyons, and the red oxidized relics of its industrial past.

The decaying hardware store on Main Street has a fibreglass deer standing amongst the supports of its awning. Two arrows pierce its neck. Is this a relic of some Indian attack, or a passing yahoo hunter?

At least two residents want to be elected mayor of Superior, or so hand-painted placards declare. The town has made an effort, and a cupola shades one corner, and the empty main street has cacti in neat planters.

A couple of small, dusty parks are smaller then the rules and regulations signs that identify them. We cause panic at the supermarket check out by lengthening the queue toa total of four.

I take some photographs of peeling facades and the recently-abandoned Magma Superior Railroad, and head back to the camp site.

Today in Superior
(Living in a Superior World — the town's community web site)

CLICK ON IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION

ARIZONA

LENORE'S TRAVEL DIARY


Main Street Superior

A Ralph-type shot


The Magma Hotel...a wonderful name


Bench awaiting an occupant to dream away the day


Another Ralph-type view

A line to nowhere — the Magma Superior Railrod, closed 1997

| top of page |