Chloride AZ Ghost Town

Chloride used to be a silver mining camp in the state of Arizona. It is said to be the oldest continuously inhabited mining town in the state. Valuable minerals were first discovered here in the early 1840's. The town was founded in 1863, but mining did not really take off until they found a way to cheat the local Hualapai Indians out of their land. The town then prospered and became the county seat. By the mid 1940's it was considered a ghost town (or close to it). Today, there are still a couple hundred people living in the area. 

Allegedly, some of these buildings date back to the early days of Chloride and some were moved here from somewhere else. To me, it looks like most were built on this site from old wood. 
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Allow me to rant for a bit...
Don't get me wrong now, I love history and I certainly love ghost towns. However, I'm not terribly fond of mining camps and/or ghost towns that are created, or allowed to exist primarily for tourists. An example: This little western "cul-de-sac" is not here for historical significance, it's here for theater. During the tourist season, mock gun fights are staged every Saturday at noon. That is so darn cheesy! Most of the folks who are interested in this, don't even see the back streets of the town. Many of the buildings on the actual main street of town, although newer, are much more historical and real, than this "contrived" history side show. The best parts of Chloride are either outside of town, or on the back streets. 

 Can you imagine two gunslingers pacing towards each other ready to shoot it out? Yuck!

Below are two photos from the early 1900's (thanks to Wikipedia)

 Some of those same buildings today

 Another (there are plenty more)

The next few don't really have any historical significance, but the scenes really appealed to me and I snapped them.

The next post will be about the part of Chloride that I loved...


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Alive, Well and Redacted

Some folks have contacted me about my absence here. This isn't a "real" post, but I do want everyone to know that I am alive and doing very well. Very busy also.

I could just post some of the stuff I have in draft form, but I realized a long while ago, that what I like best about blogging is the interaction between myself and those who comment on what I post. The same thing is also true about looking at and commenting on the blogs of others. So not having the time to "blog" isn't really about posting, It's about the human side of it all. I promise, that I will be back at it very soon.

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As long as I have you here, may I burden you with a personal rant? 

Okay, don't mind if I do! This may sound odd, but I think I love the research side of what I do, almost love it as much as visiting the places related to the research. I've REALLY been immersed in something lately (a big part of me being so busy). It's related to something that nobody else seems to have given much thought to. The obsessive part of it, I don't mind. The part I do mind though, is that I'm trying to find information that other people have gone to great lengths, to make sure that people like me, can never find. I really do understand, but I don't have to like it.

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My frustrations revolve around a single word. Imagine yourself having the pleasure of minutely examining a hundred pages or so, of an official document, only to turn to the pages (that should contain the meat of the issue), but instead, only contains one word, on an otherwise unblinking, glaring, mockingly censored, blank document.  That one word is REDACTED...

re-dact

• verb
• past tense: redacted
• past participle: redacted
• to edit (text) for publication
• censor or obscure (part of a text) for legal or security purposes

There are people out there with intentions that are far less than admirable, legal, or ethical. These people are Pot-Hunters, Grave-Diggers, Vandals, etc. I clearly understand why much of it needs to be kept hush hush. However, I am NOT one of those people! My intentions are noble and my spirit is pure. I find a lot of these places based on instinct alone (not to mention all the fine training my granny gave me). It just isn't enough though.

I typed a lot more about this subject, but that information has been...

REDACTED!

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What Price Progress?

I'm about a third of the way through my "Route 66 Ghost Towns" posts. It's time for me to start mixing in some written stuff and photos from other places we've been visiting.  My post today includes a few things relating to Route 66, but without photos.  Just about the time this post is up, we'll be on our way to our favorite mountain ridge for a couple of weeks. There is a fire in the area though and I hope we can get through. They gave it a name (The Chariot Fire), so it must be sizable.

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Route 66

The story was the same for many towns in the south west 

The railroads needed water stops across the desert and built them

Route 66 and the National Trails Highway breathed life into them

John Steinbeck's Joad family memorialized them

Interstate 40 ripped the hearts out of them

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What Price Progress?

It's one thing to see

An old mining town

Fall into decay

After giving up

Her treasure

It's quite another

To see a place die

For no other reason

Than progress

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Vapor Lock

I remember sitting in the back seat

of various old cars

the only air conditioning

was four windows down

at sixty mph

burlap desert bags

full of water

hanging in front of the radiator

hood slightly open for air

blistering heat 

threatening us

with vapor lock

and overheating

cactus, yucca, Joshua trees and rocks

mostly nothing though

except for the silence and solitude

of the desert

one arm out the window

flying my hand

like a plane in the hot wind

the only real relief

to be had

resided in the little towns 

and even smaller places

like Amboy

Cadiz

Chambless

Danby

Essex

Fenner

Goffs

and Needles

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