The myth of Arcosanti: are there angry naked hippies living in the desert?

You can live in Phoenix and totally forget Arcosanti is there, just an hour outside the city. And then one day you’ll be driving north on I-17 to somewhere cooler, and you’ll see the sign for the turn off with these mysterious concrete structures in the distance.

Then you’ll start thinking about where to stop for lunch, and it will fade again into the fog of your memory.

On the rare occasions it came to mind, Phillip and I both had gotten this idea that it was some kind of New Age hippie commune with unspecified weird stuff going down. Growing up, seeing that I-17 exit sign was as close as I got to Arcosanti. I remember my mom making a vague comment once about people there not always being clothed.

So New Age hippie nudist colony.

And then one day just a few years ago, Phillip and I spotted an entry in our beloved Arizona Family Field Trips guidebook for Arcosanti, which it listed as “suitable for all ages” with visiting hours and a cafe. Not many New Age hippie nudist colonies can say the same.

A little online research confirmed the visiting hours – and left us with the impression that people there were pretty hardcore about their environmental ideals.

Despite this image of the New Age hippie nudist colony improbably populated by militant environmentalists, our curiosity got the better of us, and we planned to stop there on the way back from an upcoming trip.

But we got behind schedule. By the time we stopped for food one exit away, it was dark out and well past Arcosanti’s published visiting hours.

Phillip still wanted to go. I almost choked on my chicken sandwich. “Now?!”

This, of course, is typical of us – his “We’re here, why not?” attitude and my fear of militant nudist hippies.

He finally convinced me we should just drive out there and see what happened.

So instead of safely getting back on the freeway to head home, we passed underneath it and eventually got to an open gate with an Arcosanti sign. With McDonald’s and the freeway now well behind us and an unlit dirt road through the desert ahead, it was like the border between the familiar glitter of fast food capitalism and the murky counterculture beyond. We glanced at each other and then continued into the darkness.

“Do you think they have a lookout?” I felt exposed now that our headlights were the only thing not blending in to the blackness around us. “Will they come out and stop us?”

“Probably not.” Phillip drove on, unfazed.

Finally, we reached an open space near some walled concrete buildings. A dim, eerie light emanated from somewhere in the complex. We stepped out of the car. I tried to close my car door quietly, but it didn’t matter. It still seemed to echo through the night.

It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, since Phillip gave his door a carefree slam a moment later.

We peeked over a wall and to see the top of one of the arced structures.

As the breeze shifted, we could hear this ethereal flute music. It was startling and yet exactly what you’d expect to hear when you sneak up on a commune in the desert. We looked at each other like, “Are you hearing this too?” We listened for a few moments. I was wondered if it was an after-hours concert, spirit-summoning ritual, or just what a lone militant nudist hippie does with his downtime.

The wind must have shifted again, because then we could hear dishes clanking from what must’ve been the cafe. The sound brought us back to earth. Even militant nudist hippie colonies have dishes to do after dinner.

We considered sneaking around a little more, but we knew that people did live there. Whatever kind of weird angry naked hippie mystical flute-playing stuff they were into, they deserve to have their privacy respected. Plus, the setting was just plain creepy. So we got back in the car and drove back towards the freeway lights and then home.

Even if it meant that Phillip was right, I was glad we went. I was still unsure if the place was filled with lonely hippies or New Age nudists or militant flutists or what, but I was relieved that we hadn’t been confronted by anything more than the sound of an otherworldly flute over the silent desert.

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Note: I don’t have photos from this first trip to Arcosanti, since it was so dark. Post photos are from when we went back in the daytime – and got some answers!

I’ll be posting about what we found out soon! Keep an eye out here, on Twitter, or subscribe to make sure you don’t miss it!