Canyon Diablo – Meaner Than Tombstone
Canyon Diablo, Arizona, a name that evokes images of the Wild West, of lawlessness and grit, began its existence as a humble railroad town in 1880. Its birth was inextricably linked to the iron horse and the ambition to connect the nation by rail. The initial construction faced an immediate impediment: the formidable chasm that would eventually lend its ominous name to the settlement. Progress ground to a halt as engineers grappled with the challenge of spanning the deep gorge. Financial constraints further exacerbated the delay, pushing the completion of the crucial railroad bridge nearly a decade into the future, finally coming to fruition in 1890.
The canyon itself had earned its moniker long before the town materialized. In 1853, Lieutenant Amiel Whipple, leading his 35th parallel survey party, encountered the imposing geological feature. The canyon presented a significant obstacle, forcing the expedition to undertake a considerable detour, adding miles to their journey. Frustrated by the arduous detour, Whipple aptly named it Devil’s Canyon, a testament to the challenge it posed. When the town sprang up along its edge, it adopted the canyon’s name, a foreshadowing of the dark reputation it would soon acquire. It was a fitting title for a place destined to become synonymous with danger and depravity.
In the nascent days of Canyon Diablo, law enforcement was conspicuously absent. This void created a breeding ground for vice and violence. Drifters, gamblers, outlaws, and those seeking to escape the constraints of civilized society flocked to the settlement. With the nearest semblance of legal authority situated approximately 100 miles away, Canyon Diablo quickly devolved into a haven for illicit activities. The town’s reputation soared, exceeding even the notoriety of Tombstone and Dodge City, legendary centers of Wild West mayhem. Many of its temporary inhabitants met untimely ends, finding their final resting place in the unforgiving earth of the local cemetery.
The saloons, gambling dens, and brothels of Canyon Diablo operated around the clock, their doors never closed, their lights never dimmed. The town’s physical structure reflected its rough-and-tumble character. Simple shacks lined either side of a rugged, rocky thoroughfare north of the railroad tracks. This infamous "street," aptly christened Hell Street, became the epicenter of the town’s depravity. It boasted a staggering fourteen saloons, ten gambling houses, four brothels, and two dance halls, all vying for the attention and coin of the transient population. Interspersed among these dens of iniquity were a few rudimentary establishments catering to basic needs: a couple of meager eating counters, a general store offering limited provisions, and a dry goods shop struggling to compete with the allure of sin.
Despite its reputation for lawlessness, Canyon Diablo experienced a period of relative prosperity. Its population swelled to nearly 2,000 inhabitants. A regular stagecoach service connected Canyon Diablo to the larger town of Flagstaff, providing transportation for passengers and goods. However, this stagecoach became a frequent target for bandits, adding another layer of danger to life in the volatile settlement.
The attempt to establish law and order in Canyon Diablo proved to be a deadly undertaking. The first individual to accept the role of peace officer was sworn in at 3:00 p.m. and was buried by 8:00 p.m. of the same day. Five more individuals, either brave or foolish, attempted to tame the town, but none lasted more than a month before meeting a violent end. The position of marshal in Canyon Diablo became synonymous with a death sentence.
Boot Hill Cemetery, the town’s burial ground, filled rapidly. At one time, 35 graves were visible, each marked with a simple wooden cross and a mound of stones. Today, only one grave remains identifiable: that of Hermann Wolf, a trader who died peacefully in 1899. His is a stark contrast to the violent ends suffered by so many others who called Canyon Diablo home.
Once the railroad bridge was finally completed and trains began to traverse the canyon, the town’s raison d’etre began to fade. As the railroad workers moved on, so too did much of the transient population. Still plagued by lawlessness, the remaining residents pleaded with the U.S. Army to intervene and restore order. However, before the soldiers arrived, Canyon Diablo was already in decline. The outlaws and drifters, sensing the changing tide, had already moved on to new frontiers, leaving behind a shell of its former self.
Years later, the construction of Route 66 brought a brief resurgence of activity to the area. A new town, called Two Guns, sprung up just south of Canyon Diablo, catering to the needs of travelers along the "Mother Road." Two Guns consisted of a handful of buildings, including a gas station and a roadhouse. However, Two Guns, too, eventually succumbed to the forces of progress, becoming a ghost town when Interstate 40 bypassed the area.
Today, little remains of the once-infamous Canyon Diablo. Visitors can still see the foundations of some of the original buildings, along with the grave of Hermann Wolf, a silent testament to the town’s turbulent history. The original limestone footings for the railroad trestle are also visible, though the trestle itself has been replaced with a modern steel arch span.
Canyon Diablo is located north of Interstate 40, between Meteor City and Flagstaff, Arizona. To reach the site, take the Two Guns Exit (#230). The road to Canyon Diablo is three miles north of Two Guns. This is a rough road, and a four-wheel-drive vehicle is recommended. However, under favorable conditions and with careful driving, it can be traversed in a standard car. The road is very rocky, so caution is advised for vehicles with low ground clearance.
Beyond Canyon Diablo, Route 66 continues westward along Interstate 40 toward the old Twin Arrows Trading Post.