Desert Destination: A Ghost Town

The desert often seems to be a vast wasteland, with little pockets of people separated by miles and miles of desert scrub. Sometimes the little pockets of people have disappeared, leaving ghost towns in their wake, making the desert feel even more desolate.

I love visiting ghost towns and imagining what happened there. What did the people do? What were they dreaming when they arrived? How did they feel when they left? 

I also like to try to picture day-to-day life. Many of these ghost towns were the result of mining, and minerals were not always close to water. How did they get their drinking water? Where did they get food? How many bars and other entertainment activities were available? Did the town get big enough to attract families, and if so, did the kids go to school?

Enough questions, let's get to one of these ghost towns, Gold Hill, Utah, located about three hours west of Salt Lake City. Gold Hill has had three big mining booms, giving it a longer history than most ghost towns.

The town of Gold Hill was established in 1892 and a creative miner named it for a gold-bearing hill just east of the town. As it turned out, gold wasn't the only ore mined. Miners also found silver, lead, arsenic, copper, and tungsten. The mining boom only lasted a few years, producing several hundred thousand dollars worth of ore.  Then the miners took down their tents and headed to the next new town to get rich quick.  

The town wasn't done, though. During World War I the need for more minerals arose, especially for tungsten, used as a strengthening agent in steel and in electric filaments, and for arsenic, used to control insects on the fields in the South. Arsenic had previously been imported from Europe, but this wasn't possible during the war. 

Some of the ore was shipped out via the U.S. Post Office in parcel post--in fact tons of tungsten were sent this way. Stagecoaches and wagons were also used, but in 1917, a 50-mile long spur off the Western Pacific Railroad line, called the Deep Creek railroad, allowed Gold Hill to be connected to the rest of the world. 

About 3,000 people lived in Gold Hill during this time, and a town was planned with a school, dance hall, and other public amenities. Stores popped up, like the Goodwin Mercantile Co. Nevertheless, many residents lived in simple shacks or tent shelters. Outhouses were located over old mining shafts to avoid digging, but sometimes these old mining shafts happened to be in the middle of the street.

An interesting book about this time period was written by a doctor, called What Next, Doctor Peck? Eventually the ore faded out, the electric lights dimmed, and the population dropped to next to nothing.

 
Gold Hill wasn't finished; during World War II it rose like a phoenix to help supply tungsten and arsenic for the war effort. Businesses and the school reopened and a bowling alley was built. The boom was short-lived, with the school closing in 1946 and the post office in 1949.

Today there's not much left in Gold Hill. The area that produced about ten million dollars worth of ore has left only a few reminders of its life. The old Goodwin Mercantile Co. building is in pretty good shape.

Building foundations and tailings can be seen all around the shrub-covered hills. Many of the old mines are still open, which is scary because they could collapse at any moment. If you're ever around old mines, remember the saying "Stay Out and Stay Alive."

A few people still live in Gold Hill, and one mine is still in operation. Prospectors explore the area and its interesting array of minerals to add to their collections. It's just a matter of time before Gold Hill booms again.