EDITOR'S LETTER

I can't remember where we got our pumpkins. That's not something we grew on the farm. Most likely, they came from a roadside stand somewhere. They were everywhere. Self-serve card tables heaped with produce. Hand-painted signs. Capitalism based on the honor system. I'm guessing we paid about a buck apiece — it was the '60s and early '70s — and drove away feeling like philanthropists. "Highway robbery!" That's what my grandfather would have called it. But it was money well spent, because Halloween was an adolescent bender. Mardi Gras for kids too young to drive.

Whether or not it's possible to warp the fabric of existence, I can go back in time whenever i want. I just close my eyes and i'm back in the backyard of my boyhood home. Carving pumpkins with my brothers, dive-bombing mounds of maple leaves, pretending to be bart starr. or roman gabriel. the october air was crisp — it would frost the pumpkins overnight. and it smelled like fall. some combination of wood smoke, corn shocks and the ironic redolence of decomposition.

So many of my best memories are linked to autumn. winter in wisconsin was cold. spring was wet. summer was buggy. but fall was picture-perfect. the valedictorian of the class. it's the same in arizona, even though our state is often disparaged as a place with no seasonal personality. it's true that the change in the desert is more subtle, but there's a definite transition that marks the end of summer and the beginning of fall. in the high country, it's easier to see, but it's everywhere, and that's what makes arizona so unique. and maybe better than anywhere else.

A few years ago, we caused a stir after teasing that theory on our cover. Turns out, some folks in Vermont — all 623,657 of them — weren't crazy about the cover line: "Autumn in arizona & why it's better here than it is in vermont." Among the many calls i took was one from the governor's office in montpelier. I think that's what got the attention of the associated press. after that, the story went viral. even time magazine weighed in: "It's a leaf-peeping smackdown. a magazine promoting tourism in Arizona (yes, Arizona) is boasting that its foliage season is better than Vermont's."

The best response, though, came from our former colleagues at Vermont Life, which was one of the great regional travel magazines in the country — sadly, they shut down in May after 72 years of preeminence. To their credit, they counterpunched with a mocked-up cover about one of their state's scenic wonders. The cover line read: "Gorges in Vermont & Why Quechee Gorge is Grander than the Grand Canyon." It was a brilliant tongue-in-cheek comeback to a feud that never really was.

Our theory was never about quality, but rather quantity. If you do the math, the peak season for fall color in Vermont runs for about three weeks. In Arizona, it goes on for more than four months, beginning on the north rim in September and ending as late as january in some of the desert's riparian areas. sprint. marathon. take your pick. we'll admit that vermont is the crown jewel, but as joyce rockwood muench wrote in our October 1957 issue, arizona's palette is pretty impressive, too.

"Paved highways and their less sophisticated relatives take you unerringly into these frontiers of color," she explained with her own burst of color. "You can scarcely travel east or west, north or south, without being caught in the rolling tide of prismatic changes. whether it's along the winding blacktop over the Kaibab: a fifty-mile cavalcade of green and gold in northern Arizona; down the escalator-drop of 7,000 feet in fifty miles through the movie-backdrop of oak creek canyon; or whisking up to the alpine resort in the Hualapais ... vistas of foliage can be caught in the very act of changing costume. navajo mountain, deep in the Indian country; the rolling ups and downs of the White Mountains; the unforgettable San Francisco Peaks; the blues; Sierra Anchas; Santa Catalinas crowd the roster. You can include the ajos, the Grahams and the Chiricahuas, and still be leaving out invitations to keep you moving along the trails to autumn tints."

Athough our issue this month is focused on ghost towns, every one of which is well suited to a visit in October, we do offer some guidance on where to see fall color. Our Hike of the Month features two trails in the red rock-secret mountain wilderness near sedona. There's a lot of color in there. Mostly red. And our scenic drive, which ultimately leads to mount hopkins, also winds along montosa canyon, where, at the end of the month, the cottonwoods will be draped in gold, like Louis XI at Plessis-les-tours. In addition, our Fall Color Guide gives specifics on some of the places ms. Muench mentioned in 1957, along with a few others. There are 17 in all, and we think they're all worth a look.

Of course, we also thought it was a good idea to start a war of words with the state of Vermont. Five years later, we'll tip our hat to the Green Mountain State and wish you well as you make a plan to explore autumn in Arizona. it's going to take some time. Meanwhile, happy Halloween. Here's hoping you find pumpkins for a buck apiece. There has to be a roadside stand out there somewhere.