Kennecott Utah Copper's Bingham Canyon Mine

Back in May (yep, I'm just a wee bit behind on posting some photos!), we took a trip to the Kennecott Utah Copper's Bingham Canyon Mine. We had seen it advertised on a flyer at the hotel, and it looked like something a little different to do. So we loaded up in the van and headed a bit south of Salt Lake City. After paying our $5 vehicle entrance fee, we proceeded up a windy road marked with numerous signs warning us to stay on the road.

We followed the signs for the visitor center, and upon arriving, found this amazing sight in front of us.

This copper mine has produced more copper than any other mine in history--more than 18.1 million tons. It's about 2 3/4 miles across at the top and 3/4 of a mile deep. Mining started in Bingham Canyon in 1863, with engineers soon after recommending a revolutionary way of mining the ore, using a process called open-pit mining and then refining the ore on an industrial scale.

The large scale processing proved necessary because this low-grade ore only contains 10.6 pounds of copper per ton of ore! About 200 holes, each 55-feet deep, are drilled each day and packed with 1,200 pounds of special blasting agents. Every day about 150,000 tons of ore and 330,000 tons of overburden are mined.

To move all this ore and overburden, the mine has 70 giant haulage trucks. You can see the size of them above compared to the crew-cab pickup that is also traveling on the road. Each haulage truck carries 255 to 320 tons of material in each trip at an average speed of 13 mph.

The visitor center had a nice movie and well-thought-out displays. The kids especially liked the models of the mining equipment. I really liked looking at the historic photos and how much things have changed. We also learned about different uses for copper, such as in plumbing, computers, and telephones. It turns out that each person in the U.S. uses about 30 pounds of copper a year. It was a thought-provoking trip, and I'm really glad we went and took a look.

Later, I got to see the mine from the Oquirrh Overlook, which you can take a peek at in this blog post.

To learn more about the mine and get directions for visiting, check out their website.

Desert Destination: Frisco, Utah: Ghost Town and Charcoal Ovens

Every Monday we visit a desert destination.

These are charcoal ovens, used in the late 1800s to produce charcoal to run smelters to process the ore found at nearby mines. These particular ovens are found at Frisco, Utah just off Highway 21. 

Okay, if you're trying to find Frisco on a map, you probably won't have much luck, because absolutely no one lives at Frisco anymore. But during its heydey, almost six thousand people lived here. Before I get into that history, let me tell you a little more about these charcoal ovens.

They have an arched entryway, big enough for a person to enter. They were filled up with about 35 cords of wood: pinyon pine, juniper, sagebrush, and whatever else was close by and available. Then fires were set and over the next few days this wood was reduced to about 1,000 bushels of charcoal, which was small and compact. It took approximately 13 days to go through the entire process of loading the oven, burning the wood, and moving the charcoal.

Each of the charcoal ovens has a window high in the wall opposite the door to improve ventilation. I've tried to find information about how this window might be closed, but I've found very little information about how these charcoal ovens operated. (If you know more, please let me know!)

The shape of the charcoal ovens is a beehive, or parabolic, which helped to concentrate the heat into the middle of the oven. Look closely to the right of the door, and you can see little holes in the rocks. These provided additional ventilation and could be plugged or opened as needed.

Desert Boy enters one of the charcoal ovens, giving you a sense of scale. To the right are some little light spots in the wall--those small ventilation holes. The more intact charcoal ovens are quite dark inside, the rocks stained with dark soot.

Five charcoal ovens were originally built in Frisco in 1877 by the Frisco Mining and Smelting Company. This company decided it would be profitable to invest in the area due to the high-producing silver mines in the San Francisco Mountains, particularly the Horn Silver Mine, discovered in 1875. 

The charcoal ovens are about two miles away from the major hub of mining. As more ore was found, a town sprang up. It included a post office, and in 1880 the Utah Southern Railroad extended into town from Milford, Utah, 15 miles to the east. It became much more profitable to ship the ore out. It also became much easier to get water in; very little water is found close to Frisco.

The town grew and gained a reputation for being the wildest mining town in the San Francisco district. It had over 20 saloons, gambling dens, and brothels lining the rocky streets, and a population of nearly 6,000. Murders became so frequent that city officials decided to hire a lawman from Pioche, Nevada and give him free rein. When he rode into town, he reportedly said he wasn't going to build a jail or make arrests. Criminals had two options: get out of town or get shot. Some didn't believe him, and the first night he apparently shot six outlaws. After that Frisco became a much calmer place.

This mill was built near the mines. Just ten years after the profitable mines were discovered, a momentous event occurred. It was the morning of February 12, 1885, and the day shift was preparing to enter the mine. Several tremors had been felt, and they were told to wait. The night shift came to the surface, and a few minutes later a massive cave-in collapsed most of the mine, including the most profitable areas. Amazingly, no one was killed.

Over $60 million worth of zinc, lead, silver, copper, and gold had been hauled away from Frisco in those 10 years. After the cave-in, mining eventually resumed, but never at the same scale, and slowly the town of Frisco faded away. By 1900 only about 500 people remained, and by the 1920's the town had been abandoned.

Few buildings remain, but this old stone wall hint at the town that once existed. 

A small cemetery is located between the charcoal ovens and the mines. I found it to be one of the most depressing mining cemeteries I have ever visited. Despite the reports of the outlaws and murders in Frisco, I'd estimate that nearly three-quarters of those buried there were infants or children. The cemetery is definitely a reminder that although we might look back at ghost towns with a hint of nostalgia, the life was hard and lacking most comforts that we take for granted today.

Frisco's days may not be totally over. In 2002 a mining company bought the rights for the mines and has begun reworking them. Although the mining areas are closed off, the charcoal ovens and cemetery are still open for visitors.

Visit to a Garnet Mine

As we drove up to Hampton Creek for our hike, we saw these mining remains near the trailhead. The old mill was used to process garnets.

Garnets are often dark red minerals (they also come in other colors) that are used as the January birthstone. In addition, they have several uses such as industrial abrasives. The word garnet comes from the Latin word granatus, which means “like a grain.” 

The Hampton Creek mines processed garnets and sold them for some years with test shipments made in the 1960s. A few mining remnants remain.

Here's one of the metal structures. I'm always surprised by how many mines are located so far away from civilization. We live in the middle of nowhere and we had to drive about an hour into even more nowhere to get to the mine.

This is a water tank that provided water for the operation. Apparently it wasn't worth it to move it to a new location.

The garnets found in Hampton Creek are the hardest and most common garnet type called Almandite with a chemical formula of Fe3Al2Si3O12. 

Not sure what you should be looking at in this photo? See those roundish little black specks? Those are the garnets! They weren't quite what I was expecting either. Under the right light conditions they sparkle, making them easy to find, but on this particular day I had to really look for them. Once you know what you're looking for, they are easy to find, albeit small. These were in the road cut at the parking area for the Hampton Creek trail. At some locations garnets are found within rock, but here they are in an alluvial deposit.

The garnets are fun to pick up and sort of pretty. These certainly wouldn't make valuable jewelry, but they do meet neat mementos.

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.