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Phoenix’s original citrus neighborhood, laid out as orchards a century ago at the foot of Camelback Mountain. The groves became yards, the yards kept the trees, and the water still arrives the way it did in 1924.
The first citrus grove went in at the foot of Camelback Mountain in 1899, and it thrived. The soil there is deep and well drained, the mountain shields the ground from the worst of the winter cold, and the Arizona Canal, finished in the 1880s, ran right along the southern edge. Everything a citrus tree wants.
In December 1919, the Jordan, Grace and Phelps Land Company platted the Arcadia subdivision on that promise. These were not house lots. They were orchards of five to ten acres each, sold with a requirement that any home built on them cost at least $5,000, a serious sum at the time. The same developers formed the Arcadia Water Company that year, and by 1924 their crews had buried fifteen miles of concrete irrigation pipe under the groves.
For the next three decades, Arcadia was oranges, grapefruit, and lemons, with a scattering of grand homes and winter resorts among the trees. Then, starting in the mid-1950s, the groves were subdivided for houses. The ranch homes went in among the citrus rather than in place of it, and the irrigation pipes that had watered orchards kept right on watering yards.
That is the thing to understand about Arcadia. It is not a neighborhood that happens to have nice trees. It is an orchard that people moved into.
Drive 56th Street on a delivery morning and you can watch it happen: a yard filling like a shallow lake under sixty-year-old citrus and ash trees, then draining into the ground over the next few hours. That deep soak is why Arcadia’s canopy looks the way it does. Sprinklers wet the top few inches. Flood irrigation reaches the roots.
Water comes from the Arizona Canal, which has defined Arcadia’s southern boundary since before the subdivision existed. Deliveries run on a schedule, more often in summer, and many properties share a turnout with neighbors and take turns opening gates. In the older core of the neighborhood, a surprising amount of the 1924 Arcadia Water Company infrastructure is still doing its job underground.
Now the honest part, because this is where Arcadia buyers get burned. The water is what made Arcadia desirable in the first place, but a century of subdividing, remodeling, and rebuilding means it no longer reaches every lot, and the number of irrigated lots is shrinking as new construction removes the infrastructure. Some blocks still run on it. Some have a single active account left. Some have the pipes in the ground and nobody has opened a gate in twenty years. Irrigated lots carry a real premium, the MLS gets this wrong more often than you would expect, and finding them takes a keen eye. Verifying the water is the first thing I do on any Arcadia property, before we talk about anything else.
How Flood Irrigation Works
Ask three people where Arcadia ends and you will get three answers, but the important thing to remember is that this remarkable area of Phoenix was built on flood irrigated agriculture. The name Arcadia is such a vibe that every nearby neighborhood wants to claim some association with it. And although the exact boundaries of the area are endlessly debated, below are some generally-accepted guidelines.
Schematic, not to scale. Boundaries are informal and debated; irrigation status varies lot by lot and must be verified for any specific property.
The original 1919 grove land between Camelback and Indian School. The largest lots, the oldest trees, and the highest prices in the corridor. This is where flood irrigation has the deepest roots in Arcadia, and the 1950s ranches that survive here sit on ground that has been deep-watered for a hundred years. Whether a given lot still gets water is another question.
Same Arcadia High School attendance area, same mountain views, same zip code. Smaller lots and later construction, which is why it costs less. Flood irrigation is less common here, though it exists. A great neighborhood, but a different product from Arcadia Proper, and worth knowing which one you are buying.
The classic Arcadia house is a single-story 1950s ranch with a citrus tree or three out back. Over the last twenty years many have been expanded or replaced with large custom homes (and I’m on a personal quest to convince developers to stop ripping out flood irrigation infrastructure in the process, but they’ll only listen to YOU, the buyers). Either way, Arcadia remains a highly sought-after area of Phoenix/Scottsdale. Why? Lot sizes, trees, and water.
Camelback Mountain is the backdrop to nearly every street, and the Arizona Canal path along the southern edge is where the neighborhood walks its dogs, rides its bikes, and runs into itself. Between them is a grid of wide, quiet streets under a canopy that most of Phoenix cannot grow no matter how much it spends on water.
The tradeoff is price. Arcadia is one of the most expensive neighborhoods in the Valley, and the irrigated core is the most expensive part of it. For a buyer who wants a real orchard lot in the middle of the city, it is also one of the very few places that lot exists at all.
If you are looking here, the question is never just “which house.” It is which lot, which water, and which trees. And if you already own here and are thinking about selling, the story of your property, from the 1924 pipe under the lawn to the grapefruit tree that predates the house, is exactly what the right buyer is paying for. It deserves to be told properly.
Historic details on this page are drawn from the Arcadia Camelback Mountain Neighborhood Association’s published history and other public records. This page is an independent neighborhood guide; it is not affiliated with or endorsed by the City of Phoenix, City of Scottsdale, any water provider, or any neighborhood association. Neighborhood boundaries are informal and property-specific irrigation status should always be verified individually.