Just east of Phoenix, this copper mining railroad
runs through a desert environment of giant Saguaros and spectacular vistas.
by Peter
   Riding the Magma was inspired not so much with railbiking in mind, but as a trip to find sunshine and warm weather as a relief from a long, cold winter in Oregon. I had heard many folks talk about wintering-over in southern Arizona, so Sandy and I decided to drive the motorhome down and see what it was all about.
    Naturally I checked my maps to see if there were any abandoned rail lines in the area and it turned out there were several which looked like good railbiking opportunities.  The most promising was the Magma Arizona, a mining railroad that once served a large copper mine and smelter in Superior.  The mine was shut down in 1997 and the rails have been lying dormant ever since.  The railroad runs between Magma and Superior, just under 30 miles total.

    Mentioning my trip to Dick Smart, he decided to fly down and ride with me.  One of his sons is attending school in Phoenix and he was able to combine his visit.  We met in Apache Junction, and drove to Superior, leaving Sandy  with a day on her own.
The peaks in the background are part of the Superstition mountains, famous for the lore of the Lost Dutchman Mine.
    At Superior the mining company still patrols their property to prevent the liability of  trespasser injury.  When I asked a guard if the mine or smelter would ever reopen he chuckled, "Nope".  Asked if might be torn down and removed, he laughed again and replied, "Probably never".   It costs less to maintain
the security patrols indefinitely than to assume the astronomical cost of envionmental cleanup.  Thus, the operation will remain as a relic of history, and at the same time, a very ugly scar on the mountainside.  The older section of Superior is today a boarded-up ghost town, surrounded by dilapidated houses of the unemployed who remain. 

    To minimize public notice and avoid the mining company patrols,  we parked a few miles out of Superior and rode our bikes on the highway to a convenient set-on point.  Our direction was due
west, with the morning sun at our backs
and a slight tailwind.  From Superior to Florence Junction, where we planned
Crossing Silver King Wash over the only trestle on the line.
to make our turnaround, the line traverses the hillsides and runs along Silver King wash.  Expansive mountain and desert views were visible in all directions.  From Florence Junction to Magma the line is dead flat and laser straight, and we left that section for those of you who have longer than one day to ride.  Our round trip was about 28 miles, enough to feel like you've done something but allowing plenty of time for  enjoying "points of interest".
Only in the hillside cuts did we find any evidence of disuse, other than rusty rails.  The pipe at the right is supplies water to the town of Superior.
We stopped often to view the hillside covered with stands of Saguaro cactus, none of which are alike and all having a personality of their own.
    We were surprised to find the rail and roadbed in excellent condition after five years of neglect, but speculate they were preserved by the dry desert air.  Seldom did we encounter even the smallest growth along the right-of-way.  But then, not very much grows out there anyway.  The rails were 115 lbs almost all the way to Florence Junction and were laid in the 1970s when the mines were still booming.  A couple of miles before the junction the rails reverted to 60 lbs and were dated 1906, which we expect are original.  Rail joints were tight and smooth.  Paralleling the tracks for the entire length of our ride was a rusty old pipe which we later learned is the water supply for the town of Superior.

    Dick and I were both enchanted with the wide-open vistas, and especially the large Saguaro cactus that stand as silent sentinels across the desert.  Many of these giants are more than 150 years old and can weigh as much as eight tons.  This region is roughly the northern limit of these magnificent cacti, which inhabit the Sonoran Desert far south into Mexico.

    The outward ride was relatively fast.  My bike, with a front guide much less sophisticated than Dick's, forced me to get off often to cross dirt roads where the rails were all but covered.  There's a lot to be said for Dick's tried and true design which is beautifully crafted, for he seldom had a
similar problem.  I'm sure Dick was secretly laughing at me with my every dismount.  But luckly
for me his pack kept falling off his outrigger, giving me some small satisfaction.
    After the turnaround we stopped under the shade of some sparse Mesquite trees and grabbed a bite to  eat.  The temperature was a pleasent 75 degrees.  At last I had found what I had come looking for, warm weather and good railbiking.  Finishing lunch we faced both headwind and the ascent, but the trip was leisurely as we stopped often to admire the cactus and striking views.
    Toward the end of the ride we headed directly toward Picketpost Mountain, where once U.S. troops posted lookouts to watch for hostile Apaches.  It was at our last stop in view of this mountain that we met a most interesting and charming inhabitant.  His name was Bill Jefferies, and at 76 he was living alone on his property adjacent to the tracks.  When he saw us stopped he came out to see if we were really riding on the top of the rails and not alongside them.  He was captivated by our railbikes, and I was sure Dick was going to sell him one on the spot.  Dave is a native Arizonian, and loved to talk about the local history.  He just plain liked to talk, which is understandable when you don't see anyone for long stretches at a time. Dave had established trails as far as the eye could see and hiked them regularly.  We could have spent hours listening to his tales but we finally had to break away.  Dick went back to visit Dave the following day, and arranged for his son to spend a day or two with this friendly gentleman.
Fighting a slight headwind, we headed home with Picketpost Mountain looming before us.
   It was now late afternoon, and with the sun at our backs, the mountains ahead were bathed in a warm light and deep shadows providing a spectacular ending to a great day of riding.   Returning to the motorhome, Sandy had cold Coronas waiting for us and we enjoyed the sunset while reliving the days adventure.
The Magma Arizona Railroad
Vias Con Dios, Amigos