CAVE CREEK: WHERE THE WEIRD MEETS THE WEST.

Byline: Susanne Hopkins Daily News Travel Editor

It was a case of going from the sublime to the ridiculous.

One minute I was in Scottsdale, one of Arizona's ritziest cities, and the next (or so it seemed) I was at the Town Dump in a place called Cave Creek.

It's an odd little burg, this town of 2,500 at the foot of Black Mountain about 20 miles north of Scottsdale - kind of like the Wild West gone weird.

But numerous people I talked with in Arizona recommended a visit. So here I was, trying to figure out the attraction of the hamlet. Didn't take long. This is one fun and funky place.

My first stop was the Town Dump (no, not the town's dump, but a store). It's the first place you come to after turning off Scottsdale Road onto Cave Creek Road. The broad storefront with the bright yellow sign calls itself ``one of the world's most unusual stores.''

I second that.

You can buy everything here - provided you can get by the American Indian figure sitting at the door with a sign in his lap that reads: ``Town Dump Security.'' Take your pick of a full-size suit of armor (in gold or silver), a 1960s Zenith tabletop radio, a red-chili wreath, some dusty antique china or a fish-shaped terra cotta planter.

``We've sold everything from wooden legs ... Years ago, we sold false teeth,'' said Madelyn Hines, who opened the store in 1977 and confesses to scouting out oddball items for the store on her buying trips. ``We'd sell 'em today if we could get them.''

The store reflects the individualistic nature of the town, Hines said.

``Cave Creek is a highly intelligent community. We have artists and writers,'' she noted. But they have their own ideas about things, she added. ``They've got a bumper sticker out now: `Cave Creek: the town too tough to govern.' We just keep recalling our mayors.''

Even now, she said, there's a move afoot to recall the mayor ``and the opposite side is trying to recall the City Council. I stay away from City Hall because it's knock-down-drag-out. It's chaotic, but that's our town.

``You know what we need? We need a common enemy,'' she continued. ``Now it's the horse people against the environmentalists.''

Well, as long as they're not against tourists.

Leaving the Town Dump, I rumbled along the main street - Cave Creek Road - past the Cave Creek Tumbleweed Motel to Basin Road. Down a washboard road I went, my destination the Cave Creek Museum.

The museum turned out to be a handsome structure housing some interesting relics of the past. While there is little written narrative accompanying the exhibits, the displays of American Indian artifacts, mining tools, ranching paraphernalia, and household and school items do spin a historical tale about the area.

Originally the home of the Tonto Apache Indians, Cave Creek grew out of the desert about 1870 when soldiers came to mark a trail between Fort McDowell on the Verde River and Fort Whipple at Prescott to the north. For some years, it was largely the home of prospectors. Then, in the 1880s, ranching - mostly in sheep - took over. But by the 1920s, Cave Creek was teetering on the brink of extinction; it perked up only in the 1930s, when workers on the Horseshoe and Bartlett dams established it as a supply base.

By the 1960s, guest ranches had begun to spring up; Cave Creek, with its rustic exteriors and laid-back western ambience, became a tourist destination.

I wandered about the museum, then Bob McBreen, who was minding the place, took me outside to another piece of Cave Creek history, the tubercular cabin. In the 1920s, tiny, white cabins such as these were built along Cave Creek Road. Sent to Arizona to rest in the dry climate, patients with tuberculosis lived in the cabins and took their meals in a communal hall, McBreen said.

I asked McBreen what makes Cave Creek tick nowadays.

His answer was swift. ``It is the food capital of this area,'' he said. ``We have more restaurants per capita than any place in the country, I think.''

``How many?'' I asked.

``Oh, about seven or eight.''

His wife Jessie had another thought.

``There's a lot of scenic beauty here,'' she said. ``I think that's really the main thing people come for. We have lots of artsy, craftsy people.

``Cave Creek is very individualistic in its approach to life,'' she added. ``They're more the horseman type and there are two or three saloons that you can ride over and hitch your horse up to a hitching post and go in and have a drink.''

Ah, yes, the Wild West.

I bade farewell to the McBreens and moseyed off to the Satisfied Frog. It was either that or the Horny Toad. Both are the restaurant creations of a guy who calls himself Crazy Ed and both are supposed to have tasty food. The Frog is in a little movie-set-like complex called Frontier Town, which stretches along the main street and brims with trinket and souvenir shops. I wasn't sure I could get into the place after reading the rules posted over the entry: ``No grouches; loose kids will be shot; don't steal the Mason jars.''

But I made it inside - only to be nearly overcome by a pungent aroma.

``That's from our microbrewery next door,'' the hostess said, noting that the Cave Creek Microbrewery produces four brews, including a chili beer. She handed me a crazy-looking menu that promised ``free beer tomorrow''; I settled for sitting out on the covered patio and dining on a tasty taco salad.

On my way out of town, I noted that Cave Creek had indeed arrived. A new French restaurant, Le Sans Souci, had recently opened and nearby, there was the Bunkhouse Boutique. Could a Target be far behind?

The road back to Scottsdale took me by Cave Creek's fraternal twin, Carefree. ``A lot of people come here and look down their noses at Cave Creek because Carefree is the fancy place,'' Bob McBreen had told me.

To be sure, Carefree, with a population of about 1,500, has a brighter, more upscale ambience (it also claims to have the largest, most accurate sundial in the Western Hemisphere). There are opulent homes clinging to the mountains and nestled among the saguaro cactuses. And, where Ho and Hum roads meet, there is Spanish Village.

The latter is a chic complex of attractive gift and clothing shops. Cave Creek, I thought, could grow up to be like this. But I'm not so sure that's a good idea. Maybe we need a few Cave Creeks in the world.

On Location

One of the Cave Creek area's best-kept secrets is Hopi House, a private museum open to the public and run by Grace Voss Frederick, Cave Creek resident since 1974. Frederick, a New York transplant and former photographer, has assembled a vast array of antique dresses, automobiles, music boxes, player pianos, and movie and television memorabilia, among other treasures. Some of the displays are even animated.The museum, on Fleming Springs Road about a mile north of Cave Creek, is on Frederick's property (with a spectacular view of the desert) and is open from 10:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Wednesdays or by appointment. Call [phone] for directions and appointments. Donation is $5.

The Town Dump is at 6820 Cave Creek Road, Cave Creek; phone [phone]. You'll find the Satisfied Frog Saloon & Restaurant in Frontier Town on Cave Creek Road; phone: [phone]. The Cave Creek Museum, open from 1 to 4:30 p.m. Wednesday through Sunday October through May, is at the corner of Basin and Skyline streets, Cave Creek; phone [phone]. Admission is free.

For information about Cave Creek and Carefree, contact the Cafefree/Cave Creek Chamber of Commerce, [phone].

CAPTION(S):

2 Photos, Box

Photo: (1--Color) The eclectic Town Dump is one ofCave Crek's main tourist attractions.

(2) Frontier Town houses funky souvenir shops and restaurants.

Susanne Hopkins/Daily News

Box: On Location (See text)