Tuesday, June 28, 2022

Jerome

Layne and I took off for Jerome for lunch. The town is perched on a hillside four miles and fifteen minutes from Clarkdale. Like every other city and inhabited community around here Jerome owes it’s existence to mining. Nowadays its continued presence on the mountainside…

…is thanks to me. And the 90,000 other people who visit the town each year. Founded in 1876 it became the fourth largest city in Arizona in the twenties with a population of 15,000. 

You can forget all that statistical stuff from the past because nowadays what you’ll find are about 500 people living there and of services, other than a police department and a volunteer fire department there are no useful services in town for the casual visitor. 

There is no gas station, no grocery store, no pharmacy. If there is a mechanic’s shop or a towing company I saw no sign. They sell food and drink which must count as useful as the eateries are very popular. We had pasties for lunch, the traditional Cornish miner’s food of a pastry filled with meat. 

Which food seemed suitable in a former mining town. They had outdoor seating and Rusty, whose manners never cease to amaze passersby lured our server into giving him a piece of bacon. Good boy.

We had previously enjoyed the pasties at the Cornish Pasty Company place in Las Vegas a few years ago, and we were pleased to see they were in Jerome. 

Thus fortified we were ready to tramp the hillside streets of the former ghost town called Jerome. Except there weren’t that many streets. 

Eugene Jerome started the first mining company which went bust in 1885 and that was when William Clark got involved and with his fortune built a railroad and increased production to make the copper mine profitable at last. Happy times in the wicked city - drink and the devil had done for the rest! 

At 5,000 feet Jerome has some of the relative coolness of altitude and you have a spectacular view across the Verde Valley floor. But the town itself is a series of terraces perched on the side of the hill. That means you either walk long streets and hairpins or steep stairways. 



















On the weekends Jerome is a destination with parking unavailable and sidewalks crawling with people. Mondays are much better. A dude polishing his FJR Yamaha,

Historic gear and vehicles on display at random. 



Workers are needed everywhere but as usual housing is the issue. 

Public parking serves as a dog walk on a weekday: 



Ours wasn’t the only Promaster in town:



I couldn’t believe they imported coke from Wales to run the smelter. No wonder they couldn’t make a profit. 



I guess Jerome is worth a meal and a wander and the pleasure of a view. But I had other sensible plans. 
We went up the mountain to 7800 feet to enjoy the cool summit air on Mingus Mountain. 

Layne napped, Rusty observed and I played with my camera. 












Daring young people playing on the hang glider launch ramp: 






Deliberate over exposure for effect. 

Boring reality: 











And so home to Kathy’s rather comfortable place in Clarkdale. Tomorrow Flagstaff as we enjoy our wait for the new toilet to arrive. 

3 comments:

Unknown said...

In the early 1980's I worked for a company named The Jerome Instrument company HQ'd in Jerome. They have subsequently been bought out. It was a high tech (for the time) manufacturer that made a small box that analyzed mercury content. I sold them to tuna canning operations in the U.S. and worldwide. The results were quite concerning and many canners were not pleased with the disturbing levels of mercury in their product. I can only surmise that those mercury levels have not gone down in the years since. In moderation probably not harmful. Enjoyed the pictures as the town has cleaned up considerably since then.

Garythetourist said...

"...other than a police department and a volunteer fire department there are no useful services in town for the casual visitor"; so true! Barbara and I visited Jerome a few decades ago. We spent a week there one afternoon. I remember that we couldn't even find a restroom. I asked a guy in a shop if they had a restroom and he pointed me to a Port-A-Potty out on the street. I felt like the whole town was watching this desperate tourist to see if he would actually enter the crampted, conspicuous toilet/sauna that was perched on a precipitous hillside. It worked, it that scared the pee out of me.

Conchscooter said...

You lot prove here’s more to Jerome than meets the eye. Good stories!