ADVENTURES WITH ROCKS (TM): Mine Shafts and Piles of Talc

We were standing on the edge of an old mine shaft, looking down into it. “I wonder how far down that goes?” I said. Al shrugged. “Don’t know”, he answered as he picked up a large rock. “Let’s see.” He heaved it over the edge and we listened. It seemed like it just fell into a black hole. We heard it bounce off the side of the shaft a couple of times with a deep thud, and then just keep going. We thought we heard a dull “plunk” somewhere in the far depths underground as it landed. “Wow,” I said. “That was a REALLY long way down.” “Uh-huh”, he said, as we both took one step back further away from the edge.

There were lots of old mines like this all throughout the desert near Beatty. We had driven past several while hunting for fossils, but we were determined to see bighorn sheep. Heading out to the spring where the sheep congregated, we passed several more mines and promised to explore them on the way back or tomorrow, depending on how much time we had left that day. When we got to the spring we spotted a herd of bighorns, so that was the deciding factor. The rest of the evening before sunset was spent watching and photographing the bighorn sheep. Soon the sun was dipping behind the peaks, and the mines would have to wait.

So today we closed early, and headed out to investigate some of the mines. The map was full of mining symbols all along the 4-wheel drive roads we were exploring. It wasn’t a matter of finding them, it was a matter of deciding which ones to stop at. One we had passed on the way to Mud Mound had a little abandoned cabin at it. It had an open pit that looked like a gypsum mine, and over further was a deep shaft. Its opening was covered with steel reinforced concrete beams. An old mine car track came up out of it and then just ended at the surface. What had been mined there, we wondered. Gold? Silver? Nevada isn’t called the Silver State for nothing.

The Bullfrog Hills around Beatty are full of gold and silver- or at least they used to be during the Nevada Gold Rush in the early1900’s. Many of the mines and ghost towns are from this time period- but some are more modern. There is a flourospar mine that is more recent, and a marble mine that is still active, just south of Beatty. But many of the abandoned mines in this part of the Nevada desert were also mines for minerals like Diatomite, Dolomite, Limestone, Talc, Gypsum, and Silica. Considering all the fossilized sea creatures we had just found that wasn’t surprising. And so, half the fun of exploring these old mines was looking at the rocks and trying to figure out what had been mined there. Some of them were easier to figure out than others. Some had old tracks and structural elements, like this cabin and old mine car track. Others were just holes in the ground, or tunnels, or big pits. A few were complex systems of tunnels, shafts, tracks, roads, tailings piles, and more.

I used to hate old mines. I like pristine wilderness settings and beautiful natural areas. The debris and destruction typically associated with old mines angered me and made me sad. But people can change and grow. Increased knowledge brings increased understanding. I have learned a lot about mining and minerals recently, and have a new found appreciation for the industry and the time, effort, skill, and investment it takes to get minerals we need for our lives out of the ground. As both a recreational miner and a wilderness enthusiast, I walk both sides of the line mentally and emotionally- and sometimes it is a delicate balancing act. Still I am saddened by old mines and ghost towns. Occasionally a twinge of anger arises at the ugliness of them compared to the beauty of the land they are on. But now I am also fascinated and curious.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Al asked. We had been driving through the desert, and I was staring out the window lost in my thoughts about mines and pristine wilderness. “Just that mental tug-of-war that I have about mines…that’s all. And looking at how beautiful the desert is.” I knew he would understand what I meant. We’d had this discussion before, anyway. And he’d heard me have the conversation with countless customers at the store, too. He knew how I felt and why, and I didn’t have to defend myself to him. He just smiled. “Yeah the desert is beautiful”, he said. The sun was casting a golden glow on the desert plants. It was almost magical. And then he pointed up ahead. “Look…look!” A huge jackrabbit bounded across the road ahead of us. We could see its ears sticking up above the shrubs. It was funny, seeing that jackrabbit hide behind a bush, while its ears stuck up like an old TV antenna. “Silly thing…look how obvious he is with his ears sticking up!” We laughed.

A little further up the road, a huge white mound stuck up. “What’s that?” I looked on the map, but it was hard to tell exactly where we were. “I don’t know. Let’s go see.” Around the other side of the big white mound was a big white pit. “Hey, cool!” We parked next to the big pit. “Look, it’s talc! A talc mine! How cool is this?” We climbed to the top of the mound- our feet covered in white talc powder. Clouds of dust swirled around us.

I picked up a few of chunks. Some was white, some pink, and some had a purplish tinge. Interesting how many different colors of talc there were right in this same mine. Were it not for this big pit and mound I would never have known that talc comes in pink and lavender as well as white. I would not have been able to hold chunks of it in my hand or have my feet covered in natural talc powder. I looked down at my toes. Minerals from the earth covered my bare feet and my sandals, along with the dirt and dust from the desert. It felt cool and smooth and natural. And my new-found appreciation for mining had struck once again. Excited, I looked at Al. “Look at my toes,” I giggled. “Usually you put talc on after a shower- I put it on before!” He laughed, and said, “Yeah, now you’re gonna get it all over the car, too!”

There were many more spots on the map to explore. Mines, ghost towns, cool rock formations. So much to see, so little time. Daylight was fading. In a few more days we would close up, leave Beatty, and head further north. “Let’s go”, Al said, as we left the big pile of talc and headed out on the little jeep trail toward the section on the map that was covered with little pick-and-shovel icons.