Tonto National Forest, Arizona

Tonto National Forest - Roosevelt Lake, Arizona

March 11, 2026

I have never been a driver. My role on any adventure is navigation and logistics. These make much better use of my refined map reading skills and nearly obsessive attention to detail. I got a heavy dose of the GenX thirty-second attention span. With the privilege of being copilot comes the loss of some control of which route the driver may choose and when. In this case, this isn’t a bad thing. Mike is a great driver and I trust his judgement in this case.

It’s our first proper day trip since we got the van. Our first few trips were glorified errand-running. Our errands happen to take us far. Over the river and through the woods, so to speak. Today’s trip marked the beginning of real-life maneuvers. This is not a drill.

We started out about 9am and pointed the van toward Beeline Highway. The original plan was to switch back onto Globe-Roosevelt Highway to Tonto National Forest and Lake Roosevelt. Then head home via the Gila-Pinal Scenic Route. The reason that route was chosen was because Mike had some apprehension about traveling Apache Trail Historic Road. He said he couldn’t remember a single time when there wasn’t a car at the bottom of the mountain. Parts of the road are dangerously unpaved and narrow down to a couple of aging single lane bridges on billy goat narrow gravel. Not only a challenge in the van, but we had both dogs along. Tilly has a tendency to get car sick.

We enjoyed the majestic views of the Superstition Mountains and speculated about a certain misguided prospector. We came across the town of Tonto Basin. Intrigued by a sign that pointed to the town's business district, I became curious. What would a business district look like in a small town like this? It wasn’t much but certainly qualified as a business district I suppose. The several businesses of the down were clustered in one central and convenient place. After a quick cruise through town end-to-end, we continued on the remaining fifteen minutes down the road to our destination.

When we arrived at Roosevelt Lake, we began to explore the campsites to see where we might want to camp on a future overnight trip. After we explored a couple of the larger campgrounds, it was decided Cholla could be ideal for our needs. The factor that tipped the decision was the fact that they appeared to have the nicest shower house. The other advantage was the idea of a little more space between the campsites. Better for Wally who has a tendency to bark at other creatures and small humans. It’s not a malicious bark. It’s something he just can’t help.

The first stop we made was the highlight of the trip for me, Roosevelt Dam and Bridge. There are many many pictures of Roosevelt Bridge and of course I had to get mine. When we got there we got the dogs out for a fresh air break. They had a great time sniffing the different smells. I found a good spot and used the horizon level for guidance. A beautiful picture was the result. I got the impression that this was the way the bridge was designed to be photographed. 

I then turned and walked around to the other side of the parking lot to get a picture of Roosevelt Dam. I didn’t find the dam to be as photogenic as the bridge. 

This is when we switched gears and started up the Apache Trail which runs along the Salt River and flows through Roosevelt, Apache, and Canyon Lakes. After a snap of the other side of the dam at the interpretive overlook, I braced myself for a twisty turning and tippy mountain road. 

Mike was apprehensive at first. The last time he traveled that road it had all been loose gravel. As we started crawling, I was relieved somewhat to find it paved. Apparently kids like to race on the road. Even teenage me would think this would be an incredibly bad idea. It’s too bad people had to die to get the road paved. Now if they could do something about the ancient guardrails that appear to be made of cardboard. The road uphill was narrow and curvy. There would be no attempts to even go as fast as the posted speed limit in the van. When we arrived at Burnt Corral day use area, it was a prime opportunity to decompress some of the anxiety that started to build up to that point. 

The plan was to run around with the dogs and have a picnic lunch before we headed back home. In reality we snacked on the picnic lunch all morning and weren’t particularly hungry. There were already a couple of dogs in the area and Wally began to bark immediately. His excessive vocalization is the result of surviving getting into a chocolate bar infused with a high level of THC. Despite this we are very lucky he is still with us. It can only be managed, it cannot be cured. After. We sat rather awkwardly for a few minutes, and we continued on.  

It got to the point in the trip when I began to look for some sort of shop to pick up the mementos I’ve chosen this year, stickers and post cards. We stopped at the lodge at Apache Lake Marina. A simple camp store but I got my sticker. Sadly no postcards. The sticker will have a prime location as the first sticker on the van. At some point after the marina, Apache Trail turned to gravel for about fifteen miles. 

Our slow relaxed roll got a little slower and a bit less relaxed. However the drive is absolutely beautiful. This more than made up for the thoughts of having to navigate this on horseback, by stagecoach, Model T, and mid-century land yacht with matching travel trailer that have traveled along that road for centuries. After about an hour and seven miles, Fish Creek Hill appeared. Located at the halfway point of the unpaved section of road, the overlook was perfectly placed to again calm the nerves of the weary and mildly alarmed traveler. The beautiful vista impressed me so much I wanted to stitch it onto fine linen and frame it. A panoramic shot was attempted but I am still unfamiliar with the setting on my fairly new phone. 

Sometime after we left Fish Creek, I breathed a small sigh of relief when the asphalt reappeared. The road was still nauseatingly curvy and I trusted Mike to continue to take things slow and easy. Suddenly we came down a steep hill and into the town of Tortilla Flat. One of the many tiny towns in Arizona where I instantly hit full-on tourist mode.

Tortilla Flat is the oldest continuously occupied stagecoach stop along the route. It’s among the top ten rides for motorcycle enthusiasts in the country. Despite all the modern traffic and noise that comes with that, the history runs deep. The town apparently saw no reason to change as it has not changed visually from the typical style of small western towns that sprouted in the desert in the middle of the nineteenth century. The interiors are fully modernized to suit the demands of the modern American tourist. In the Mercantile is where I found the postcards I sought. One will be carefully glued to the top of one of the cigar boxes I am currently upscaling. I also got a lead for the business which put the cherry on that Sundae. After this last stop we pointed the van toward home to recover for a couple of days.

I think we may be ready for the first overnight in the van. We figured out how much time we can spend on the road without much discomfort. This will help immensely in future planning. The next adventure will hopefully be the Grand Canyon, but not quite sure what the next few months will hold. I’ve never been and I just might go into full-on tourist mode again.