https://caspercollege.cvlcollections.org/files/original/ef8c735c8a739ce3992e6fa2d426f4ae.pdf d04a5f289af1a45221ba736d011225dc PDF Text Text �N. Weis OREGON AREA T4x1s-Unlt GonXaiRg-' A^&p3M>xifflateiy^--3400--ifard^i At slwrt gl^ce, the old dredge resembled a monster. A monster in Its last frantic moment of life, its square-browed head reared high, vacant eyes staring blindly, with steel jaws poised for a last vengeful IQ Q thrust. Frozen in position by disuse, and trapped in a small pond of its own making, the gigantic dredge is as impressive as the destruction still evident in its -1- �N. Weis gravel--strewn wake. This dredge and two others like it ■> ) once ravaged the broad valley of the Powder River of pastern Oregon. Green with trees and lush with grass, the terrain was lifted, sifted, washed^and subtracted of Its wealth, then haphazardly replaced. The precious soil that once topped the baser rock now spread^ Its fertility thinly downstream. Gold was the master, and ten tons of it lay in the valley, demanding harvest. The giant dredges reaped that harvest, slowly tracing their broad erosionary swaths until the entire valley was consumed. Twelve million dollars’^worth of gold poured temporary life into the town of Sumpter. That life has since faded, and little is left of the original Sumpter, One of the three dredges was destroyed by fire, another was dismantled and shipped to richer gravel. The third dredge is largely intact, and is Sumpter's largest and most impressive surviving structure. It rests quietly in the small pond at the east edge of town. Slightly down at the bow and in gentle contact with the bottom, its endless bucket chain is raised high. Three levels of enclosed machinery topped with a control house, which in turn is capped by a cable housing, give the dredge a height fully sixty feet above wateiTilne. -2- �N. Weis As I was preparing to photograph the old relic, a man and two boys approached. Equipped with hammers, gold pans,and fishing tackle, they proceeded to unlock the sliding door on the lower deck. As part owners of the dredge, they were intent on enjoying the day aboard their private, although immobile craft. I quickly r accepted their invitation to tour\the monster's innards. An ancient electric motor once fed power to the chain of buckets by means of a drive belt eighty feet long, two feet wide, and nearly a half an inch thick. Great banks of shakers and sorters processed the gravel to a gold-bearing black sand concentrate. Next, sca­ venger Jigs separated the gold from the useless sand. One of the cogwheels that relayed power to the shakers was thirteen feet in diameter. Prom the broad-^windowed bridge, the operator controlled all functions with twelve large levers and a number of rheostats, A double-barrelled heater constructed from two fifty-gallon drums offered minimal comfort on cold days. A catwalk le^ directly from the control deck to the extreme end of the dredge boom. A serpentine stairway connected the bridge with the lower machine decks. The handballs were worn pleasantly smooth from countless use. -3- �N. Weis A small projection at water level, "amidships on the port side," made an ideal fishing platform for one of the boys. Although small, the trout were The boy’s brother and father were busy plentiful. pounding out rust and trace deposits left in the final shakers and scavenger jigs. It took an hour or so for them to glean a cup of rusty concentrate, but when panned, the gold realized was enough to pay wages, and to set them once again to pounding away at the old rusted machinery. Gold was located here in 1862 by a group of Confederate soldiers on their way to California, They called the place Sumter, after the ^ort of the same name Later the spelling was changed to the present Sumpter News of their discovery of placer gold spread rapidly. and soon hundijsds of men were washing gravel In the SGVGnuXOS late(70’s) the Chinese moved in to rework the same de- posits. Later, the prime deposits were found on the hillsides, and hard-.rock mining ensued. In I896 the railroad reached town, and the population grew to more than ^00^. Sumpter town reached its maximum in 19OO when the deep mines and the dredges were both operating full shifts. There were two brick banks, two hotels, an opera house, a lumber mill, and more than two dozen 0 ’h �N. Weis saloons in Sumpter, A two-story building on the hill served as a hospital, and was later converted to an Odd' '* /•ellows Hall, The fire of 1916 destroyed most of Sumpter. When the hoses burned through, dynamite was used to blow up buildings to create firebreaks. The desperate attempt to save the town ^:^argely failed, and only a few structures were saved. The O^d /ellows Hall, the school, a store, a few bams, and a number of residences were among the survivors. Many citizens moved out. Those ths-t stayed scavenged many of the deserted buildings to enhance their own homes, or to supply firewood for the winter. One of the surviving barns has been preserved by the care demanded by constant use, and the protection of a metal roof. Painted on the roof, in startling contrast, is an orange-lettered sign marking the location and distance to the nearest airport. It seems as incon­ gruous as an old man wearing a propeller beanie. Along*^ side is parked an old^solid-rubber-tired Union Oil trailer tank. An old brick vault marks the location of one of the town’s banks. Nearby is a small wooden shed with a bashed—in garage door at its front. fire department. This is Sumpter’s Inside is a brightly painted four*- wheeled trailer with a tongue adapted to either pulling -5- �by hand or attaching by pin and clevis to any handy vehicle equipped with trailer hitch. The deluxe hose /A cart is complete with several reels of stout hose, a number of axes and a tool chest containing extra nozzles. The bed of the narrow-gauge railroad that once connected Sumpter and nearby Baker is now the grade of the excellent blacktop road that serves the town and forest recreation areas beyond. Sumpter is six miles south of Baker on Highway 7, then twenty miles west on There are no topographic maps of the area Highway 220. near Sumpter, or Granite and Whitney to the west and south, but forest ^ervlce maps indicate most of the Important features, Today there are 11? people living in towaffbut only 80 spend the winter. operation, One place of business is in A cafe and general meeting place, it serves good coffee and great conversation. The ranking old^^ timer, whose father had lived in Sumpter since 1880, took great delight in telling me about the town. He had a storehouse of the finest quality lies I had heard in years. He fired them out so fast that laughter on the last interefered with the telling of the next. "When the town was goin* strong, there was fourteen saloons, five hundred rahR4?ah girls, and one tired sinner,* �N, Weis After several cups of coffe^ we were still undecided as to how we might best preserve the facts as to "what old Sumpter was really like," -7- �N. Weis KG^ITB, OREGON Once inhabited by five thousand lively souls, the town of Giranlte now is best known as the smallest incorporated town in the world. With a population of one, its smallness cannot be exceeded, only equaled, Ote Ford became the sole resident of Granite when the mayor hung himself, and "Cliff the Prospector" went looking for gold in Ten Gent Creek, Being his own mayor, council, treasurer and constituency, Ote was quick to state that Granite had a Republican adminis­ 64^issue of the ^Capitol In the August 26, tration. Journal,^ Ote is quoted — "There’s no such thing as isolation. Too many people want to share it with you," There are a number of reasons why people are drifting back to Granite, Easily accessible — Just fifteen miles west of Sumpter ~ and burled deep in the beautiful Blue Mountains, the setting alone is attraction enough. Taxes are nonexistent, water fees are one dollar a month, and the town treasury is in the black. At last report, the balance was more than one hundred dollars. Although the summer population has soared to nearly one dozen, the permanent year-round count of residents remains at the minimum — one I -8- �N. Weis A few years ago the "pride of Granite" — the three-story deluxe hotel — burned to the ground. Still standing are a number of old buildings dating from the 1800’s when Granite was in its prime. The small school^ house -- later used as^city hall -- has developed a decided slant. Built on a strongly sloped hill, it leans to the high side in over^ompensation. Main street, in spite of fire and depredation, leaves the impression of being lined with stores. Prominent on a corner of the main intersection is the old Mercantile, which later became an entertainment hall and did final service as a gas station and general store. Across the street, the drugstore — now converted to a vacation home — displays a broad-palmed set of moose antlers on its porch roof. Next to it is the freight office with its stylish cater-cornered doorway, A block east are the remains of the fancy two—story dance hall. Only the front portion of the second floor is left. The windows have long been paneSis, but the fancy sill work and gussied shingles offer a suggestion of yesterdays grandeur, r One general store is now in business. Strictly a seasonal operation, it offers a warm welcome, cool refreshment^and enchanting history. -9- �N. Weis .WHITNEY, OREGON^Z ~ Surrounded, by booming gold camps, but unblessed by even token amounts of the precious metal, the town of Whitney could offer only a supporting role. The railroad that passed through town was kept busy hauling lumber to the camps and bringing gold out. Freighting and lumber­ ing promised the town only temporary life. Its longevity depended upon two expendables, gold and timer, A Whitney was the prime station of the famous eighty-jnile-long narrow-gauge Sumpter Valley Railroad, Centrally located between the two end terminals — Prairie City and Baker — it was the ideal spot for roundhouse and crews’ quarters. In spite of the fourteen rail crews quartered in Whitney, and the lumber mill that employed up to seventy-five men, the population of the town never climbed much beyond one hundred. When the sawmill burned in 1918, the town became nearly deserted, A brief five- year revival occurred in 1939 when the Oregon Lumber Company rebuilt the mill in order to harvest a newly purchased block of timer, Whitney may be reached by ten miles of passable dirt road extending south of Sumpter, or by sixteen miles of the same kind of road extending northeast from Highway 7 near Bates, Whitney occupies only a small part of a -10- �N. Weis large grassy flat, and the dirt road does not widen appreciably as it passes through town, "Town" is now a mere handful of buildings, perhaps twelve or fourteen, mostly on the north side of the street. The old round^^ house and depot are disappointingly absent. Even the rails have been torn up for scrap. But the old sawmill is there — its proud image faithfully reproduced in the quiet waters of the log pond. The mill rests in the center of its own broad flat, lush with flowers in full bloom, KneJljiigh purple blossoms stand uniformly a half foot higher than yellow blossoms, I bent down to inspect an old saw blade, and the broad field turned from purple to golden yellow, then returned as I regained my original perspective. The mill is gutted of machinery. There is no floor, and water seeping in from the log pond has turned the dirt to mud a foot deep. You can navigate through the building only by hopping from old board to rock to concrete pillar. Thousands of swallows have made the old structure their home. They resent any intrusion and take issue with each sudden movement. Assuredly, they are harmless, but in such great numbers they are distinctly unsettling, A simple wave of the arm, and a multitude of birds take*^wlng, A symphony of motion -11- �N, Weis flows, at first away, and then toward the offender. The noise rises to a peak, each bird encouraging the other, then settles down to a flutter of wings as a transitory calm again prevails. Surely great events have transpired in Whitney, but for now its primary claim to greatness is its magnificent birdhouse standing on its own reflection, centered in a field of purple and gold. �N. Weis ^GALENA, OREGON The roots of trees, downed by high winds, had levered up fantastic chunks of gold. they glowed dully, awaiting discovery. Cleansed by rain, In 1862, a group of miners made the find of their lives. They kept their secret for more than a year while they skimmed the richest deposits. By 1864 the word leaked out, big as your fist J" This time the wild rumors were trueI "Nuggets Gold was sprinkled along the Middle Pork of Day River and up Elk Creek, It ran from fine to five-pound chunks. Claims were filed and the rich deposits along the Elk and the Middle Day were soon taken. Some miners objected to claims laid out length­ wise along the stream, and forced a maximum width rule on the offenders. Each man could have a slice of stream as wide as he could reach with his pick, without moving his feet. Tall miners with long-handled picks had a distinct advantage. Later, at a meeting of five hundred miners, a standard width of fifty feet was set. Soon two communities sprang up. One near the junction of the two streams, another about two miles north up narrow Elk Creek Canyon, The lower camp was originally named Susanville, and had its own post office. Shortly after 1900, some miners from the upper Elk Creek camp slipped into town and stole the post office — boxes. -13- �N. Weis ink pad, oanceling stamp^and all. The Elk Creek camp then became Susanville, and "Old Susanville" petitioned for and received a new post office with the name of Galena, By that time much of the gold was gone, and the most likely future for the newly christened Galena seemed to be in the mining of galena, a shiny sulphide of lead. The town of Galena never was very large, since most miners preferred to camp on their claims. Its stores came near outnumbering its residences, Lee On Ralph Rider operated the livery ran a Chinese store, I and hotel. .. There was a dance hall and meat market, along with a number of saloons. Galena was a going town, but gold is soon gone and the miners leave with it, A new lease was given to the life of Galena when dredges designed originally to be used on the Panama Canal were refitted and shipped in during the A Reassembled, they processed much of the gravel along the Middle Pork of the John Day River, extracting gold that had eluded the miners of an earlier day. was lucrative but short-lived. The new effort The town became so quiet that in 19^3 the post office was closed by request of the postmaster. The road to Galena is long, yet pleasantly scenic. Prom the twin cities of John Day and Canyon City, -14- �N. Weis U. S. Highway 26 extends about twenty-two miles northeast to Bates Junction. A left turn at Bates puts you through town, across the "Middle Day" River, and past the sawmill. Twenty miles on down stream are the quiet remains of Galena. The gusanville, Oregon. 15 minute topographic map shows the locations of both Galena and Susanville, as well as many of the mines in the area. At Galena, several old residences and two stores line the south side of the road. Imbedded in tall weeds. The stores are deeply One place of business was con­ verted later to a combination garage and gas station. Its old pump, complete with long-handled lever, stands nearly vertical. The glass reservoir is gone, but the strip marking the level for each gallon is intact. Inside, the oli one-stall garage has been converted to a meat cooler with provisions for hanging freshly killed game, A single flower grows tall through a one-inch hole bored in the floor. A metal-roofed clapboard cabin once sported an outside stala?way to the attic. Recently the staircase has been dislodged by horses that graze on tall grass once worn short by frantic activity. One family lives in Galena now, and even they find it difficult to believe that at one time five thousand -15- �N. Weis miners visited town to cast their votes in a vain effort to beat out Canyon City in the contest for county seat. -16- �N. Weis \^USANVILLB, OREGON Two miles northeast of Galena, up the narrow canyon of Elk Creek, are the sparse remains of Susan­ ville, once called "Upper Camp." Established in 1864 as a gold camp, it received its present name in I90I when miners lifted the post office from the rival camp downstream. Placer deposits were rich along the two miles of canyon, and claims were narrow and lucrative. ran large, Nuggets Jane Erickson reported in the Sunday Oregonian Magazine that a nugget large as a flat iron and worth fourteen hundred dollars was found there in 1913. It is now on display at the bank in Baker, Oregon. Placering paid off along the entire length of Elk Creek Canyon. One of the larger outfits was owned by a Mr, Haskell. His hydraulic operation netted #165,000 in one day, and reportedly resulted in a total yield of nearly two million in gold, in spite of the ever-present loss due to high-grading. High-grading was the quaa'- respectable practice of quietly pocketing the richest ore samples. Mine owners commonly paid low wages and tacitly permitted high-grading. There was outright thievery^ too, but most thieves found it difficult to leave town with the goods. -17- �N. Weis Early one morning, Haskell’s Chinese night watchman was observed walking down the road, suitcase In hand. The suitcase sagged heavily from Its handle, and the Chinaman stopped frequently to rest. During one pause, Haskell's men rushed up and demanded the suitcase be opened. Out rolled a number of golden nuggets, the largest worth twelve hundred dollars I Quartz prospecting began In Elk Canyon about 1869. Early samples were processed In the Cabel panamalgamatlon unit. Later a ten-stamp mill was built, primarily to process the ores from the nearby Badger Mine, A number of shafts found and exploited the mother lode. There wshb the Bull of the Woods, fhe Gem, The Present Need, and the Poor Man that made several men rich. Susanville had but one street. too narrow to provide a second. The canyon was More than a thousand miners were known to crowd Into town on Saturday night I White's Store was busy. So busy that to make change quickly, all prices were rounded to the nearest quarter. Anything that sold for less than fifteen cents was free. The remains of Susanville are strung out for nearly a mile, and are now mostly flat but empty home sites, and scattered piles of rotting timber. At the west end of town there is an old log cabin, its walls -18- �N. Weis leaning under a collapsed roof. Central in town is the old mill, erect and plumb, but nearly devoid of shingles. Its machinery is gone and the trees have grown close alongside. The tar-papered cabin just opposite the mill has eight rooms and three stoves. One of the last residents strung a long antenna to improve his radio reception. He used whatever wire was handy, and what was handy was barbed wire. At the upper end of town stands a small^ but Intact stamp mill. Of fairly recent vintage, it has a driveway leading to the upper end where ore can be dumped in. In operation, a reciprocating engine provided power, and a lever gave control over the flow of ore to the stamps, A stamp is merely an iron rod about two Inches in diameter and ten feet long. The lower section is broadened to a width of six inches. Each stamp weighs several hundred pounds and has, near its upper end, a projection that allows it to be lifted. When released, the stamp falls on the ore, crushing it fine, freeing the particles of gold. The stamp butt was^ef stout metal and high-sided to permit stamping in a bath of mercury. The mercury amalgamated with the gold, holding it in the bath while the worthless rock spilled over the sides. -19- �An occasional camper or sightseer may travel up the canyon, A few stubborn prospectors still cast about for some lost vestige of gold, Down below, a mechanized gold washing operation is reworking old gravel. narrow canyon is quiet, But the Skinners driving twelve-mule jerkliners no longer fight the rear teams over the trace to make a tight switchback. Welcome would be the sound of cuss words well chosen from a vocabulary of large experience and delivered with unwavering conviction. �N. Weis ■^^he closest tow was twenty miles away and not much when you got there. The farmers and ranchers were tired of losing so much time commuting for supplies, A meeting was called, ideas were set forth, and solutions were reached First they would build a school, then a store and finally a church. The homes and entertainment halls -1- �N. Weis would follow naturally. The plan was sound and the town had a guaranteed future. But unknown to the planners, the guarantee would last only until the advent of the automobile. Mlles would then be measured in minutes Instead of days, and the town’s reason for existence would be lost. Richmond, born in I890, grew in a few decades to respectability, then faded slowly again to nothing. Highway 20?, an all-weather road which is partially blacktopped, passes within a mile of Richmond. The Richmond. Oregon, 15 minute topographic map is a help in locating the town, but shows little that is not readily detected when on the site. The schoolhouse — first structure built, and probably one of the last in use — is equipped with the standard bell tower plus a covered porch on two sides. The large single classroom is still dominated by a large black heater bearing the name "The Smith System." A major engineering breakthrough for its time, it had a the large flue that drew cold air from^floor level and delivered it to the chimney. The open door of the Methodist Church invites the visitor. A fetching alcove empties into the sanctuary where two pews still face the empty platform. The bell tower was vented, and probably held a bell capable of sending its call throughout the town. -2- �The boarding house - store - resldenCt- saloon post office buildingiras a forerunner to the modem en­ closed shopping center. The "mall" was a covered porch that serviced the full length of the structure. Several large homes stand on the hill to the northwest of town. One home is occasionally occupied and has posed on its door a passionate plea by its owner stating in part* "This is not an abandoned home and is not locked — so don’t break the windows or kick in the V^.everything worth stealing has already door," I t been stolen," Then an addendum is addedj "Please^folks, if you gotta go — be brave — and use the convenient sagebrush — our water is turned off and the stool won't flush---- " Thoughtfully, owner Rod Donnelly adds a word of caution concerning rattlesnakes and exposed portions of the anatomy. Beyond Donnelly's house, and up the hill, stands a more pretentious structure. Vacant and open, to the elements, it exudes an aura of mystery. isn't haunted, it ought to be. If it Every room on the second floor is covered with old clothing. Several feet deep in most places, it offers delightful shelter to mice �N. Weis and other rodents. Their rustlings from under foot keep one on the alert. Occasionally an animal will scurry out on the roof and create a new sound not quickly Identified, Occasional screeching sounds are probably loose sheets of metal roofing scraping raw edges. stairs creak three steps ahead of your feet. The The house groans — but It Is old, and the wind has picked up. Weather Is making, and biscuit clouds are overhead. Precursors of tornadoes, their Ominous presence adds the final touch of ghostllness to the house on the hill. -4- �N. Weis LONEROCK, OREGON Never was a town more appropriately named! The huge lone rock Is the only dominant feature of an otherwise flat valley. Not only the town, but the stream and the valley derived their names from the Impressive landmark, A helpful gentleman In Spray, Oregon, had. de­ scribed the rock as "big as a house," and also fl-rmly declared the town had recently burned to the ground. was wrong on both counts. He The town was quite Intact, and the rock was not just "big as a house," It was "bigger than a church!" The Baptists were the first to build a church In Lonerock, Soon It proved too small for the community and In I898 a new church was planned. Times had changed. The majority of citizens were Methodist, and a Methodist Church could be built In only one place. Built stoutly and planted firmly by the rock, one must assume that Peter was quoted often, and that "Rock of Ages" echoed frequently within Its walls, Lonerock may be approached from Condon, Oregon, by proceeding east on Highway 206 for five miles, then branching to the right on an undesignated blacktop road, After about fifteen miles, the road becomes gravel, and -5- N �MH* promptly slants down the steep valley wall to Lonerock, There are no topographic maps available for this portion of Oregon, Luckily, many of the towns in this unit are shown on ordinary state highway maps. Sixteen people live in town, and the ranking resident is declared "mayor" by acclamation. Edith Perry, holds the office at present, and is highly re­ spected by the citizenry. The mayor pointed out some of the sites in town, occasionally throwing in a little Chamber of Commerce ^itch, "Yes, that old flat thing there is the dance floor — had a building over it but we had to tear it down cause it was aleanin*,,The building next to it was a pastime," I asked about the name of "No name — just a pastime — sold soft drinks the store, and candy and nuts. Had a confectionery over there," Mayor Edith pointed to a small building nearly overgrown with trees, "The school is being torn down. in Portland own it now. Some people Was built in 1903 and we even had a highschool on the second floor — had fifteen students," I asked about local taxes and learned that five dollars a month was adequate to run the town, "And we make Improvements^too. water system. We have a new Ran a pipe from the spring up on the hill and the water comes down just a flyin*. No, we don’t have a fire chief, but we are all members of the Fire Department, Saloons? — sure we had some. ’em with a spoon they was so thickI Could stir We graveled the -6- I anerac �N. Weis streets last year and still have money left — only town in the ^tate that’s out of debt." I left town via the gravel road to the north. The local two-wire telephone line parallels the road for a number of miles. Never had I seen a telephone system with such personally. /Mayor Edith had termed it a "private line that works sometimes." Most poles were nothing but small saplings. Some were bent nearly double by the weight of the wires. At times the Insulators were nailed to fence posts, or the wires merely tied with twine to a handy tree. Here and there the lines crossed and touched one another. What appeared to be an old rake handle was tied to a metal fence post, thereby gaining the rigidity needed to support the wires. At intervals, rocks as big as cabbages were hung on the line to prevent wind whipping. The eas3<^ing attitude that prevailed in Lonerock seemed to stretch out along the pleasantly haphazard strands. Occasional creosoted poles appeared, then became frequent. Disgustingly upright and too perfectly aligned, they pinched to nothing the last quiet memory of Lonerock. �N. Weis ASHWOOD, OREGON The little weathered building with its comer-'' mounted double doors and fancy half-circle entrance porch gives little indication of its rowdy history. Called "McCallum’s Saloon," it was established in 1897, two years before the town was platted. Thirty years later it suffered the Insult of being placed penmangnf.iy on the wagon when the Baptists converted it to a church. Many of Ashwood’s buildings have been put to new uses. Others have drifted into decay or met destruction by fire. The countrjy store-gas station was once the hotel, with attached saloon. A house deeply buried among lofty trees was the town’s favorite eating house. The Ash Butte Grange Hall is unchanged and unused. Cows graze on the lawns and wander about the streets. An old deserted store has wire mesh fenc­ ing nailed to its porch posts to prevent damage by cattle. The road to Ashwood leads east from U. S. Highway 97 about two miles south of Willowdale. After fifteen miles of unmarked hairpin turns, the road enters the j^alley of Trout Creek, makes a left turn at the Baptist Church, and promptly becomes the main street of Ashwood. I was in town less than ten minutes when I was informed^"Mrs. Allison want^ to see you." -8- The invitation �N. Weis was Issued rather firmly by a soft-spoken but stoutly constructed man In miner’s clothes. With little delay, we adjourned to the two—story deeply shaded home of Mrs. Allison. The welcome was warm, and yet strange^4i^-\ "How are you? I saw you enter town two days ago." I expressed my puzzlement and she explained, "I see things — visions If you wish. I saw a tall man with dark—rimmed glasses entering town." The miner offered corroboration. Shortly, two other miners — the Mosley frothers — Joined us and formed a larger chorus of agreement. My comment that I put little faith In fortune-telling, was accepted calmly and I was treated to a recounting of past forecasts proven true, each accompanied by much head bobbing. The three miners and the clairvoyant had been hired to look Into an old mine In the area, and search out Its hidden deposits. It was to be a cinch. With the added power of vision. I asked why they hadn’t already located the vein, and was told that success would come soon. Word had come down from the other world to be patient. They were very Interesting and helpful people, and their coffee was great. One of the ^^^ley frothers suggested that I visit Horse Heaven, and^gave me a -9- �N. Weis description of the extensive remains there. This was great news, because it appeared to be a little-known site, and so far my efforts in Oregon had turned up only well“’documented ghost towns. rOn the heels of the suggestion that I visit Horse Heaven came the forecast "that’s where you are going early tomorrow morning." I asked the seer if she would trace my future route — It would save me a lot of map study. It seemed "the old people" hadn’t informed her of my plans more than one day in advance. My im­ pulse was to (immediately Mrive'|to Horse Heaven and prove her forecast wrong, but the light was right for pictures in Ashwood, and there was a local old-Xlmer I Wanted to visit. Eighty-five-year-old Aaron Hale lives in a long trailer pulled close 1'^ to one of Ashwood’s old stores. Besides Aaron and his wife, the trailer holds three cats and a Chihuahua. the lot. The dog is the smallest of He thinks he is a cat and gets along fine. All six evidenced a warm welcome, and soon Aaron was telling about old Ashwood. He remembered best the humorous events like the time the men at King Mine quit. "There were seventy men working shifts, living in a big boardIng'^ouse up there. -10- L �N. Weis Had a gal hired to run it and cook — she did for quite Tired of being unappreciated. a while — then quit. They hired two men to take over. oyster stew and crackers. For supper they served The next mornln’ they dished up hot cakes and syrup, and you could roll up the cakes like a cigarette, then throw ’ em — they’d open up and fly like a pigeon. The boys threw 'em all, then threw out the table — and then the chairs — and all walked to Ashwood to the cafe," Aaron pointed to a delapidated old building a few lots away, "The superintendent returned and found the mine shut down and the men in town. They would go back to work if he got a new cook — he did — two women. Really turned out the ore for a while I" Aaron had a friend named Tom Brown, who had his own claim, but had to work to earn dynamite money. "His claim lapsed as he was cornin’ close, and old Hubbard filed on it — Tom took him to court and got it back — turned out a good mine^too. ‘’Ashwood had its heydey," says Aaron. "There were three hundred people here in the nineties — and now there’s just four." He didn’t count the folks doing temporary exploratory work. "The Hamilton Hotel had ten rooms — and the town had its own paper, ^he Ashwood Prospector." He dug out an old copy dated”^^^ -11- �N. Weis May 4, 1901. Half of the front page was an ad asking people to come live in Ashwood. A Justice of the Peace announced in a box ad, "Careful attention given collections." Much of the paper was filled with ads from the nearby and larger town of Antelope. [Tn fact, the Ashwood Prospector was ’ printed in Antelop^ , IV O \ .& From the beginning. Ashwood had been over^ shadowed by Antelope. When mining activity began to slow down, shortly after I9OO, it was logical for those out of Soon stores were work to seek employment in Antelope. closing down for lack of business. A small flurry of mining raised hopes momentarily in 1925. During the thirties and forties, the town revived somewhat in response to mercury mining at Horse Heaven, twenty miles or so to the east. Things are quiet these days in Ashwood, are more cows in town than people. There It is a relaxing place to visit, and a restful place to camp. I overnighted by the old grange building in the center of town, and was awakened early by cattle rubbing vigorously against the tailgate of my truck. Soon I had breakfasted, and in accordance with the seer’s forecast, was on my way to Horse Heaven. -12- �N. Weis HORSE HEAVEN, OREGON Two old prospectors, Champion and Kenton, first located the fine particles of red cinnabar on the divide between Cherry Greek and Muddy Greek, The find developed into a major producer of mercury. That is the way one historical account dis­ posed of the story behind Horse Heaven, But the real story is fantastic, and perhaps never before told in its entirety. It was related to me by a tall, somewhat Z- .. -■ graying gentleman now prospecting at Horse Heaven, His name is Ray R, Whiting, Jr,, and he, more than any other man, knows -the total story — because he lived it, '?•. "Old Champ5ejFjira®: great- jst©specter could find it as if he could^^mell it. Always scratching though — like he had seven-year itchy and no bath. He used to take some of us kids along with him. One summer my buddy, Harry Hoy, and myself were out here camping and prospecting with our dads. Old Champion was along, and he was showing Harry and me the float of cinnabar that he had found earlier," We walked a few steps over to the scant shade of a juniper tree, Ray bent down and picked up a handful of whitish granules that covered the area. fhrfe. �N. Weis "This is the stuff. In fact it was right here that Champion panned some out to show us." Rather than Just talk about it, Ray got a pan and a plastic jug filled with water and proceeded to pan the sample. Quicklyy- the coarse chunks went over the rim of the pan. More water, and the finer granules were slopped over the edge. In moments| Ray had the original handful down to a small residue of deep red powder and black sand. "There — you see the red — that’s cinnabar — mercury sulfide — and it's mostly mercury. Champion had found the stuff earlier the same year — Well^old that was 1933 — but had given up on it because it was just float — stuff that washed in. Being on top of a divide, he figured it couldn’t be much and told us it was worthless. Like any other kids, we figured a big lode was nearby, so we got to looking around. Pound some outcrops that looked good, so we started digging." Ray pointed out the spot a few yards up the slope, "Spent most of the summer. and made a project out of it. sixty days. Brought supplies in Harry and I tunneled for That's sticking pretty good for a couple of higPischool kids, but we were beginning to lose our confidence. Eating lunch one day, we were sitting by -14- | > �N, Weis the tunnel, and I got to kicking at a rock — just messing around. That rock just flipped over. It was wet on the bottom and bright red I” We looked at some samples that Ray had nearby pink tracings went everywhere throughout the pale whitish rock. "Here — look see how it comes to life when you wet it." Ray poured some water on the rock, and each pink line became flaming red. "We started a new tunnel, and in a couple of days we were really in it — solid cinnabar, and slimy with beaded mercury. Our dads had us sit on the claim and we formed a company. Us kids got a third interest for maklng^t^e find. Later when ‘... ' K we sold out, Harry and I got eleven percent, and we were both rich." In a few years the new Crystal Syndicate had the mine in production. Heaven Mines, Inc. Later it was named the Horse In 1936 the Sun Oil Company bought the mine and operated it until 194-4. One hundred thousand tons of ore were removed from deep within the hill, leaving tunnels fourteen hundred feet long on ten different levels, the deepest over three hundred feet down. Four huge stopes, or caverns, were left where massive pockets of ore were removed. -15- �N. Weis A twenty-ton mill and reduction furnace turned out 15,000 flasks of mercury, each weighing seventy-six pounds, and valued at a total of seven million dollars at the old prices. The mill burned In 1946, and excent x for a spurt ln^ft^^ty-f©ury the [mining was finished. At Its peak the town had a population somewhat over a hundred. It had a post office, dozens of cabins, a few bunkjhouses, one cookhouse, a few office buildings, a schoolhouse with fifteen students, and uncounted numbers of rattlesnakes. The rattlesnakes are still there. Ray killed three the day before I arrived. No topographic maps are available for towns In the area, but Horse Heaven Is easily reached by driving the fifteen miles of good gravel road extending east of Ashwood. ■& I asked Ray what would a rich hlghjschool kid do with his money and his life back In 1933. ’’Well — I built a fancy restaurant In California It was a dandy — and lots of famous people used to come there. Made money^too. But somehow I let It all slip through my fingers. "Rags to riches to rags again," I volunteered. "No, more like tatters now. here to locate some new deposits. I'm on a project The government Is helping out, since the need for mercury Is critical." There was more to the story, and Ray led the way to a spot where we could look at a skyllned outcrop. "See that rock up there'? man’s head, doesn't It? Looks Just like a See the open mouth? That looks �N. Weis just like a dear old friend of mine, I was with him when he died, and he looked just like that rock. He had the same nose and chin." I agreed that the rock certainly looked like an old man’s final profile, "He told me before he died that he and a pal of his — way back in ’35 — had been kicking around just west of the old cook*^house. are standing now. That’s about where we They uncovered an outcrop of cinnabar that looked redder than the one I had found. They agreed to keep it a secret, maybe try and file on it later. They never did, and he wanted me to know about it. That’s why I am out here now. I intend to find, that outcrop," It has been over a year since I visited with Ray Whiting, Jr. By now he has either found the new lode or ended his search and turned Horse Heaven over to the rattlesnakes. -17- �ANTELOPE, OREGON Supplies were needed at Canyon City. been discovered. Gold had The nearest supply point was The Dalles, and a route between the two points was quickly established. In 1862 the Wheelers built a way station at a point sixty miles out of The Dalles. it VAntelope.X They named Soon Nathan Wallace built a store, then a smithy and stockade were added. Competitors built on a better site two miles north, and all of Antelope soon moved to "New Antelope." Immediately the Union House Hotel was con­ structed, Soon a large livery and dance hall named "Tamany" was built. There was no stockade at the new town, even though Indian threats continued, P, W. Sllvertooth, openrator of a saloon bearing his name, is said to have "saved the day" when the regular stage driver refused the run because of Indian danger. The stage operators were so happy to have Sllvertooth volunteer^ that they offered him generous payment. "Just name your price." "Well," answered Sllvertooth, "just give me some Saw Log and some Battle Axe," Armed with these two most popular brands of plug tobacco, the intrepid Sllvertooth whipped the teams up and dusted the stage out of town. -18- His plan was simple. �N. Weis Each time Indians were sighted, he stopped the stage, waved them in, and handed out presents. In spite of Indian problems, the town grew rapidly, and in 188?, according to H. C. Roper, "It was visible to the naked eye." By I896 there were one hundred seventy folk, three saloons, a bowling alley, and several churches. Two years later the town burned. Many residences and all but one building on ^nain street But Antelope was an important place, went up in smoke. and it quickly rebuilt, even larger than before. John Silvertooth, son of the one-time stage driver, is presently living in a shaded bungalow at the north edge of Antelope. John and his wife^ Laur^ remember what Antelope was like at the turn of the century. Laura began, "Why^yes, it was the main stop •tween The Dalles and Canyon City, and a big sheep shipping point. at one time. The population reached two thousand There were three hotels, three stores, a rooming house —" Then John chimed in. "Three, no,four saloons — Doyles, Macbeths, and Silvertooths, place. That was my father's Then there was one more — two smithies and a couple of red-light places. girls at the one place —* -19- There was a madam and two �N. Weis Laura helped out on the names, "Pearl and Flossy — Flossy was the fat one." John volunteered, "Pearl got sick — appendix. The doc operated in the drugstore. That Pearl, she was good-looking — red hair — real nice looking," Laura added, "They buried one of them in our cemetery. At first they were against it, but finally they decided to put her in a lonely corner, where she couldn’t do any harm," In 1900 the railroad,reached Shaniko, a small town eight miles north of Antelope, It became an im­ portant ralinhead and lured away most of Antelope’s major businesses and professional men. The population shrank, and most of the stores on mln street became vacant. Numerous fires ravaged the unoccupied buildings, A pitifully small portion of Antelope remains standing today. The old Methodist Church, a fraternal hall, Sllvertooth’s Saloon, and scattered residences offer evidence of Antelope’s more active moment in history. Just as Antelope had drawn heavily on Ashwood, so Shaniko subtracted the life from Antelope, But Shaniko was to prosper only briefly, then suffer in turn a similar fate. �N. Weis SHANIKO, OREGON Bankers in The Dalles decided that the riches from the large wool-growing area to the south could best be tapped by railroad. Galled the Columbia Southern Railroad, it branched off the main line at Biggs on the Columbia River, and in I9OO reached the site of the old Cross Hollows Stage Station and Post Office. The station had been operated from 1874 to 1877 by a German immigrant named August Scherneckau. The Indians trusted Herr Scherneckau in spite of the wide difference in backgrounds and the resulting communications problem. Neither could twist his tongue around the sounds favored by the other. August used the rolling r-r-r-r and broad gutt^al vowels of his homelandi The Indians returned each word with lighter vowels and evenly valued syllables. Thus Scherneckau became Shaniko, and Shaniko was the name chosen for the new post office established at the railhead. Quickly a "town of permanence" was built. larg<^ brick two-story hotel was raised. with heat available in every room. of the roof at close intervals’. A It was plush, Chimneys stand out The corner porch is broad, fully balustraded^ and supported by white-painted columns. -21- �N. Weis Across from the hotel a row of stores catered to the mixed trade, supplying the wants of sheepherders and ralH^oad men alike, A fancy two-story firehouse served also as^meeting place for the town council. A school was erected from funds donated, and taxes pa^d for an elaborate water system. Shaniko had grown up to be a fancy town, but it possessed some earthy problems. Somewhere in history, ’’'shepherd" became "sheepherder,’’ and much of the attendant respect fell away, Cow^men hated them, and mothers feared them. In defense of their daughters, the women of Shaniko tol­ erated an elaborsrte red-light district. Shaniko had thirteen establishments, mostly^^ndly^^ferred t^as "sporting houses," Less than a dozen yea3*is ago, the town was just a small deserted shipping point. Then a few news­ papers carried stories about the "quaint and quiet place." Tourists arrived in large numbers and left with amazing quantities of "artifacts." At first the people of Shaniko objected to such Invasion and were insulted to have their town classified as a ghost. But there was a new future for Shaniko now, a showplace for the local history, and a watering place for a new kind of sheep. The new variety was similar to the original. -22- �N. Weis varying mostly in eating habits, consuming much in the way of pop, hot dogs and Kodak film. Tattered but comfortable lounging sofas, and hard-backed benches line the side of the hotel where the porch offers shade and view. Old-timers, mostly retired sheepherders, make frequent use of these comforts. Each seems to have a favored spot from which he can eye passing tourists from under lowered brim, A notably ugly wooden Indian stands guanrd at the hotel door, viewing visitors with a like reserve. The schoolhouse at the north edge of town displays a unique architecture. Built in 1902, it is fronted by a tall ventilated octagonal tower, A flag^ pole ..extends from its upper portion at an angle a bit up from horizontal. The building is large and square, its roof slanting from all sides to a flat top. Traces of boardwalk still front the school 'and skirt the dusty street. The few children in Shaniko now travel by bus to the schools at Maupin, thirty-three blacktopped miles away, A few blocks west of the old school, a large rectangular structure dominates the sky. Resembling the base of some giant windmill, it woixld place in awe the bravest Don Quixote, Inspection shows it to be a deluxe large-capacity water tower. Water tanks occupy the upper levels, and pipes extend downward. -23- �N, Weis Below frostYine they branch in multiple directions. The school and the hotel both Indicate that Shaniko was once a much larger town than is evident today. But to justify the large water tower, one must mentally fill in the empty lots that extend for blocks in all directions, and replace the absent stores on the intersecting main streets. With a little imagination, one can hear the old eight wheeler whistling at the mile marker, and see the flock of sheep top the rise above town. -24- �N. Weis BOYD,. OREGON Fifteen Mile Greek carried water enough to power a mill, and wheat fields extended for miles in every direction. It was a proper place to build a grist-mill and granary, A little store half a mile north of the creek crossing had been built in I870, When the mill was constructed some thirty years later, the store suddenly found itself the center of a booming community. Homes were built, the store was enlarged, and a blacksmith moved in to set up shop. Stories vary as to the existence of a hotel in Boyd, Some claim there was just a boarding'~liouse, which has since burned down. Others claim the old house at the south edge of town was used as a hotel for a time. Half a nineteenth dozen fancy homes of the 19^ century have lasted well, A Under the shade of broad—branched trees they stand, badly in need of paint, yet proudly displaying sunburst—' patterned gablesy and stained-glass windows. Part of the original store remains^ and is presently in use as a storage shed, but the outstanding remains of Boyd are at the mill site, about a half mile to the south. The town and the mill are both easily reached via a good gravel road branching east about three and a half miles north of Du'fur, on U. S, Highway 197, -25- �N, Weis Boyd Is about one-half mile from the highway, and the mill is immediately south of town. The Dufur East minute topograph map shows the location of both sites. h At the mill site, waters of Fifteen Mlle Creek were diverted to a holding pond. Located above the mill, with a vertical drop of sixty feet, the water rushed downward through an eighteen-inch-diameter flume to make powerful contact with a large waterwheel, Cog-«i wheels increased the force by sacrificing speed, then delivered the power to a slowly revolving stone roller. As a boy might crush leaves by riding a bicycle in tight circles, the broad roller crushed grain against a stationary stone base. If some ground up rock was found in the flour, it merely lent a little bod^and character, say those who lament the present scarcity of stone-ground flour. Against the mill lean the remains of old farm implements, wagons^and cars. One ancient truck chassis is bodyless, but its wooden-spoked, solid-rubber-tired wheels still cap the front axle. ♦ Above the mill is an impressive three-story rock home. Occupied originally by the mill'~owner, it served a second important purpose. Customers were entertained while their wheat was ground. -26- Overnight �N. Weis stays were oommon. The home is occupied at present, and water that once powered the mill now sprays generously on lawn and garden. The reason the mill shut down and Boyd became deserted can only be speculated, -aMMr. Cer­ tainly a water^wheel-powered roller mill was technically behind the times shortly after the mill was constructed. Electricity was soon available andIn most mills, steel rollers replaced those of stone. Other mills could process grain for less, and consequently offer a better purchase price. And besides, with a gas-driven truck, what farmer would pass up a chance to haul his harvest to the big city, especially If the added return more than paid for a night on the town. �N. Weis OREGON AREA 3 3) •Thio Unit -Containo approximatoly-2700 wordsv PLACER, OREGON ^eo^le are intrigued by maps, especially large maps. My map of Oregon was about four by five feet, and when spread out on a cafe counter, it became an open invitation to comment. Before I could com­ pletely unfold the map, someone would generally Inquire as to where I had been and where I was going next. Hopefully, they would point out some little—" -1- p/a.ce^ �N. Weis known site that would turn out to be a ghost town worth visiting. That is just what happened at a small coffee shop In the central Oregon town of Prineville. The waitress asked, after lifting the corner of the map to find a place for my coffee, ’’Have you been to Golden? I was born there, and the last time I visited the town It still had a church, some stores, and a few homes. The whole place was deserted. Used to be a mining town.” pWe located the town on the map to find that it was just one of a number of towns, all of which had the earmarks of long desertion. Strung out in a line, north of Grants Pass in southwest Oregon, were Granite Hill, Forest Queen, Winona, Lucky Queen, Placer, Greenback, Golden, and Speaker. It developed that three of these towns had remnants worth observing and stories worth telling, but to find the three, I had to search out all eight. The Metsker map of Josephine County, and the U.S.G.S. 15 minute Glendale, Oregon, topographic iiiapZ^> are both of value| but of little help in finding a way off the new Interstate. Turn’'‘bffs, signs, new roads — nothing agrees with the old maps until you get a few miles away from the Interstate. -2- �N. Weis A dozen miles up Louse Creek, a triangular Intersection located the site of Forest Queen. a cabin or two remained. Only One cabin was occupied, and its owner was quick to agree that the town was essentially non/exlst^nt, and volunteered that nearby Granite Hill was the same. He was right. Granite Hill was but a flat spot occupied by a piece of road— building equipment. At Winona, a few miles north, the town'^lte had become the Shady Greek subfdlvision. Lucky Queen was merely a mine site, and little was left. The dirt road leading north toward Placer deteriorated quickly to mud_Jioles, then abruptly worsened. Boulders replaced the mud, and the grade became steep. In places, a four-mlle-per-hour crawl was too fast. An hour laterthe road leveled and broke into the open. about. A few deserted cabins were sprinkled The sun had set and it was rapidly darkening. A lighted window guided me to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Howard Coome. They were surprised at the circuitous route I had used to reach Placer, and I was surprised to learn that I was in Placer, The Goomes explained that the little town of Placer was across the creek that flowed along side their home, and that it was not -3- i^rrytn �N, Weis a "remote" community, but located on a blacktop highway, just four miles from the Sunny Valley Junction of Interstate 5. In answer to a multitude of questions, the Coomes informed me that the town was largely deserted, but that it was at one time a rather large community. They further stated that the town was now reduced to a half-dozen or so structures, but did have two out­ standing features: an old school and an old-timer. They thoroughly recommended a visit to both. The next morning I toured Placer, observing the few remaining structures along its two parallel streets, then drove a few miles west to talk with the old'-timer, George Arlington Klonus is elghty-flve years old, of German extraction, and sharper of mind and eye than most youngsters half his age, "Sure it was a big town — biggest in the county for s^hlle. Had three stores, them from *32 to *35. Not sure Just when the town started, but it wasway before 1900, up ’til *24, I ran one of Had a post office For a while it was mostly a place for Blind Pigs," I asked for an explanation, and George Arlington Klonus patiently explained, -4- "Speakeasies — �N, Weis you know — where the back door was always open — a few glrls^too. Sure sold a lot of home’^made whiskey. More than twenty stills were spread out along the creek. One old fellow used to put glycerine in his moonshine to make it smoother. Pound him one day — dead — sittin* in his rocking chalrl" Mr. Klonus was Clerk of the School District for a while — "up 'til the last family with kids moved out of town. That was three months after school started so the teacher just sat on the steps and collected pay," The lack of buildings in town puzzled me until George explained. "Most of them burned. afire, we thought, by just one guy. Set He was always stealing firewood — never cut his own, and always had plenty. Had a habit of knocking his pipe out — didn't even realize he was doing it. We know he burned down hisr own cabin and three others, maybe more." —----- There is an old covered bridge a mile west of George's home. The date of construction is somewhat vague, but it was one of the early bridges on the Applegate Trail. Rebuilt in 1925. It looks brand new. George recommended the bridge and the town of Golden ————--as being worthy of a visit, and espoially endorsed the old community of Greenback, just up the hill a ways. -5- �N. Weis "That Greenback was a fine place. The mine always had plenty of fellows wanting work there — good high-gradin’ — twenty-five dollars a day easy no trick at all to pocket a few of the best chunks —some of ’em near pure gold. No saloons there so they all came to Placer to spend It." Speaker, the last of the string of eight towns, was quickly evaluated by George Arlington Klonus as "underwhelming." I crossed It off my list. �N, Weis GRESMBAGK, OREGON The mineralized stretch of ground connecting Placer, Greenback, and Golden is thickly shot with mines. The Star, Gold Cup, Yellowhom, Jim Blaine, Martha, and even the Shot Mine, have punched deep holes in search of gold. Ed Hanham and his partner discovered one of the richest. Called the Greenback Mine, it proved rich enough to require its own mill. The heavy metal parts for a twenty-stamp mill were hauled three miles up the steep^winding road^ extending north from Placer. into twenty-fouh-hour When completed, it immediately went^itebft^^feiwjimoperation and required a crew of twenty men. Cabins were built to make work at the mill and mine more attractive Soon a company store was added. In 1902, Greenback became officially a town when a post office was authorized. It lasted only six years, but during that time many fortunes were made. "Everyone that worked there went away rich," stated one former resident. The owners finally stopped all but the most Ingen^tous hlgh'-graders by requiring miners to change clothes at the end of each shift. No liquor was permitted in the company town of Greenback, The road to Placer was well worn. �N. Weis Miners made frequent trips to relieve the Itch of money. Their horses knew the way and often returned to stand at the hitching rail In Greenback while drivers and passengers, unaware their destination had been reached, continued to sleep off the effects of their celebration. The road to Greenback Is In poor shape now. It Is best to walk the last mlley^ as there Is deep mud along the final stretch. Heavy grout foundations, an old log skid, and a few stamp lifters are at the burned over mill site. The stamp lifters, heavy double cams of cast metal, show the reason for their abandonment. Rectangular recesses, where locking keys once held them firmly to the driving axle, are worn to Ineffectual smoothness. The shrinking evolution of the mining effort since the rich veins petered out In the early 1900’s •^ilnotoon hundrodc can be pieced together by observing the age and size of the ore buckets scattered about the premises. A small ball mill has been erected next to the remains of the old mill. operations. It has also ceased Beside the mlllpa number of ore cars stand on rusty wheels. One car carries a comparatively fresh sign stating "Jos. Sourdoughs Co.," a name undeniably appropriate. -8- �N. Weis Adjacent to the newer mill are a few of the original mine shacks of Greenback. They are presently used for equipment storage and are securely locked. A lonely out3iouse stands a short distance from the storage sheds. A continuous stream, from an artesian well, is directed under considerable pressure against the out-^ house door, effectively prohibiting its use. The water then flows down the road from Greenback, transforming a dirt road to a tree~lined lane of mudj|L — two feet deep. Far-reaching, and better than a locked gate, it prevents easy access and precludes any possibility of heavy equipment being stolen. -9- �N. Weis GOLDEN, OREGON There was gold to be found in the gravel of Coyote Creek, but It was finely divided and thinly scattered. hand. A man could hardly make wages panning by The few miners sticking It out on Coyote Creek were- quick to Join the 1850 rush to the new find on the Salmon River. As the white man left, Chinese moved in to take over the deserted claims. Soon there were more than (5^ spread out along the length of Coyote Greek. It took only a few years to skim the cream of rich deposits at the Salmon find. Soon the thin deposits at Coyote Creek began to look good by compari­ son, especially in the light of new placering techniques. The Chinese were quickly run off and old claims were reoccupied. Hydraulic placering was soon tried and found profitable. The word spread and more miners came to stake claims. The community slowly grew as Coyote Greek continued to release its treasure. 150 There were more than one-jmndred fi#ty-people living along the creek in 1892. The time had come to organize. A "Campbellite" ^hurch was built that year. Soon a carriage house was opened for business. .''and a general ^tore In I896 the town was formally -10- �N. Weis recognized, and a post office opened under the name of "Golden. '* By all reason, they should have named the town "Ruble City," The first minister was William Ruble later replaced by his son, W. N. Ruble. Schuyler Ruble was the first postmaster, and S. C. Ruble was active in the local mining effort. He was the inventor of the Ruble elevator, a device designed to remove unwanted gravel from stream beds. general ^tore. S. C. Ruble also ran the S. C. Ruble and Schuyler Ruble may have been the same person. If so, he was obviously talented and busy. It must have been a red-letter day when stored keeper Ruble turned his duties over to a man named something other than Ruble, Columbus Bennett, The new storekeeper was Ruble was Bennett's uncle. Later, Harold McIntosh ran the store, but of course Bennett was McIntosh's uncle. Coyote Smith was appointed Justice of the Peace, and apparently was unrelated to the Rubles, Justice must remain aloof and untainted. The schoolhouse was in operation about a half mile down the creek to the west. On Sundays it served as a church, with the Reverend Mark David offi­ ciating. Sinners had little chance in Golden, -11- Two �N. Weis churches and no saloons. Perhaps that Is why neps lived strung out down the valley. Golden today consists of a church, carriage house, the old store, several old homes, and numerous shacks scattered along the stream bed. It is easily reached, just four miles east of Wolf Creek on the Coyote Creek Road. Mr. and Mrs. Orville Cornwell own much of the ghost town now, and are living in one old residence while they properly recondition another. Their future home is a handsome one and nicely intact where it was protected by a metal roof. an open-air motif, Elsewhere it has more of I stepped through a large opening in the rear porch and was immediately met by two squirrels moving at high speed and headed for the nearest tree, I stepped through a doorway into the old living room. There, to the right, was an old stove resting on a metal floor protector. Standing upon the broad metal sheet was a third squirrel. He reacted quickly, his hind legs moving faster than the smooth surfaces could accommodate. His speed built up slowly, and he headed toward the door, making a smooth turn to miss my feet. As he approached, his rear legs were beginning to slide toward the outside of his turn, but he continued without deceleration, and passed me going �N. Weis broadside, his rear "wheels" still spinning, his head turned sharply in the direction of the skid. His rear end was slightly ahead as he passed through the door. Then with a wobble of over-«correction, he reached top speed and lined away for the nearest tree. The Golden Community Church is a classic, ranking with those in Richmond, Oregon, and Atlantic City, Wyoming. shape. Rebuilt in 1950, it is in excellent The bell is still in its tower, but only because of a watchful neighbor. Not long ago, when the town appeared deserted, a man drove quietly into town, parked his pickup close beside the churchj.and unloaded an extension ladder. The Interloper proceeded to climb to the belfry, carrying a block and tackle slung across his shoulder. Unaware that he was observed, he loosened the ventilating boards, BONGI The bell rang. It rang so loud that the sound of shot and ricochet was hardly detectable. But the would-be thief knew he was in trouble. Either the hand of God was poised to strike again, or someone was shooting in his direction. He left town with little dignity and much alacrity. Eighty—year-old Harold McIntosh, one-time operator of the general s/tore,*^and long-time resident -13- �N. Weis of Golden, lives a quarter mile northeast of town In Rohlnson s Gulch, alongside one of the finest strawberry patches In Oregon, He Is a willful, honest man. He may fracture a word here and there, but the meaning Is always clear, I Introduced myself, and asked, "Harold McIntosh, I believe?" With just the faintest twinkle In his eye, he replied, "Well ,,,,mostly," We talked strawberries and weather for a while, then got down to serious history, Harold McIntosh mined Robinson Gulch with his own Giants (hydraulic gunspouring out a mighty stream. "We Three men helped him with the operation, got some gold — but It wasn’t so good. Not as good as Coyote Creek — they took out millions there. Used to get seventeen dollars an ounce — In 1933 It went up to thirty-five dollars. The gold was nine hundred fine," I asked If It was true that Golden had no saloon, "Never had a saloon, but they all dralnk sort of ’no whiskey - no mining,’ Never saw anyone drunk, though," Business was good when Harold ran the store, "Had to build on a lean—to — needed more room. That was about the time they were tearing down some of the houses to get the gold beneath them," -14- He paused, then �N, Weis grinned and went on. store. "Used to hold dances at the Church wouldn’t allow it. I finally gave up and built a dance hall down at Wolf Creek. Had real good times there, but church folk still gave me trouble. Used to parade around the dance hall prayin’ away the devil — was fanatakism — pure fanataklsm." � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Norman Weis Manuscripts Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC/1.0/">http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC/1.0/</a> Date Created Date of creation of the resource. 1971-1987 Description An account of the resource A collection of manuscripts by Casper College professor Norman Weis. <br /><br />This collection includes manuscripts of:<br /><em>Ghost Towns of the Northwest: Known and Unknown<br />The Starduster<br />Two-Story Outhouse<br />Helldorados<br /></em><br />Each manuscript contains written in edits by Norman Weis Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Norman Weis Language A language of the resource ENG Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Norm Weiss Manuscripts and Photographs, CCA 10.2003.01 WyCaC US. Casper College Archives and Special Collections. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource Searchable PDF Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context CCA 10.2003.01_Weis_Manuscripts Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Manuscript Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>Ghost Towns of the Northwest: Known and </em><em>Unknown </em>Oregon&nbsp;Draft Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <div class="element-text five columns omega"> <p><a href="http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC/1.0/">http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC/1.0/</a></p> </div> Date Created Date of creation of the resource. 1971 Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Norman Weis Language A language of the resource ENG Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Norm Weiss Manuscripts and Photographs, CCA 10.2003.01 WyCaC US. Casper College Archives and Special Collections. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context CCA 10.2003.01_Weis_GhostTowns_DraftManuscript_Oregon Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource Searchable PDF