Globe is a copper town, and it wears that fact openly. It lies in a high desert basin in the mountains of eastern Arizona, between the Pinal Mountains and the open country of the Apache reservation, and for more than a century its fortune has depended on the metal in the hills. Mines still operate on the slopes around, and the town has the practical, unpolished look of a place that works for a living. Together with its neighbour Miami, it forms the Cobre Valley, and the name tells you what was found here.
The old downtown is worth a short walk. Broad Street has historic brick buildings with false fronts, antique shops and cafés, and it gives a sense of the mining boom that built it in the late nineteenth century. Just outside the centre, the ruins of Besh Ba Gowah, a pueblo built by the Salado people some seven hundred years ago, have been partly reconstructed, with rooms, walls and a small museum. It is a reminder that people lived and farmed here long before the miners.
For a rider, Globe is the sensible place to stop and refuel. After the rugged Apache Trail and the empty miles around the reservoirs, the town offers what you need: several fuel stations, supermarkets, motels and diners. At about seven thousand people, it is big enough to have services and small enough to feel friendly. Prices for fuel can be a bit higher than in Phoenix, but the convenience is worth it, and repairs are possible if something goes wrong.
The surrounding roads climb through pine and oak in the Pinal Mountains and lead eastward toward the San Carlos Apache lands. The heat in summer can be fierce, and afternoon thunderstorms are common in the monsoon season, from July to September. When storms arrive, they come quickly, with wind, lightning and a smell of wet creosote in the air.
Food in Globe tends to be hearty and Southwestern, with Mexican dishes, burgers and breakfasts that suit a hungry traveller. Many places close early, so aim for lunch rather than a late dinner. Take a moment to fill your water bottles and check your tyres before you leave, because the next stretch of road may be quiet and the sun unforgiving.