I have just finished the rough version of my new book. It is off to the publisher awaiting publication. Whew! It always feels like a long haul when you finish a book. Though I feel all of my books are worth a read, this one is special. If you are a fan of this website, then this book is for you.
In this book the romance is gone. It tries to show many of the true hardships and facets of trying to settle a frontier that was sandwiched between three Great Lakes. There are stories from across the Peninsula from first hand accounts to revelations from the news of the time. As always there are heroes and villains. There are feats of great good and dirty deeds of the worst kind. There are adventures of the most extraordinary men as they struggle for the riches of the U.P. well before gold was discovered in California. There are accomplishments of those that braved the wrath of the Great Lakes in leaking ships and frozen waters. The intensity of storms killed thousands on land and lakes. Over 200 died in one season just between Marquette and Whitefish Point. Often the Edmund Fitzgerald is memorialized, but few remember the hundreds of wrecks before it. You will find some here.
These pages are populated by Native Americans, miners, loggers and mariners that consisted of Germans, Italians, Finns, Swedes, French and English. People came from everywhere looking for their personal promised land. Some to raise families, some to avoid the law or to start a new life. Some to get rich no matter what it took. The Upper Peninsula frontier called to all.
This book is the first installment in what will be a larger work that chronicles the rare and forgotten stories that make the history of the U.P. what it is. Through research and investigation I hope to bring back many of the tales that time and historians forgot.
The U.P. of today was created by individuals that rose up to meet challenges that broke lesser folks. Their mental and physical stamina was that of finely honed athletes accomplishing feats unheard of in the modern world. They hacked homes out of a dense wilderness and raised families with danger at every turn. Many of these feats have gone unsung throughout history and through this book many come to light.
It is my hope that the stories contained within this book not only celebrates the struggles of the individuals that first braved this formidable and raw land , but honestly portrays their efforts to overcome the incredible obstacles that stood in the way of the beloved peninsula we now know. It was once a very different place.
Pictures courtesy of the Mikel Classen Collection of Historical Pictures
This is an early passenger steamer named “City of Traverse.” This view of the ship shows only ne lock and the river rapids can be seen beyond the ship.
Many old historical ship pictures were taken at the Soo Locks. The close-up vantage point for the bulky photo equipment made it a choice spot for ship photography in the early years.
Whalebacks in the Soo Locks with tugs.
Over the years there have been many kinds of ships that have sailed the Great Lakes. All of them served a valued purpose in their day, though some had some uniquely strange looks. Of course many of these at some point would wind up at the bottom of the lakes, casualties of unexpected storms.
This is a couple of schooners going through the Soo Locks.
From Sailing ships to coal fired steamers, a fascination remains of all of these different types of ships. To this day visitors flock to the Soo Locks for a glimpse of the great ships that still sail the lakes.
This early freighter is called the Zenith City. It would sink not long after this picture.
This is not a by-gone era but one that has evolved through the years. The lake ships of all kinds serve as vital a purpose now as they did in the past.
This picture is of an early wood fired side-wheeler. photos of these are few and far between.
While watching the ships of today, it is also fun to think about the ships of the past, smaller and more susceptible, battling the violent elements of the Great Lakes for their very survival. Some succeeded, many didn’t, ending in tragedy and a watery grave. Requiem for sailors of a different time and men with courage beyond most.
The old buildings at the Whitefish Point Harbor are remains of an era gone by and a village that once was.
Whitefish Point in Chippewa County, Michigan, is known for a lot of things, not the least of which is the shipwrecks like the Edmund Fitzgerald that made the point famous. The lighthouse, which was one of the first on Lake Superior, houses the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum (For more on that, check out my book Points North). Whitefish Point also is the eastern boundary of the legendary Shipwreck Coast. All else seems to have gotten lost.
This is one of the old homesteads from Whitefish Point. One of the few remaining buildings.
Whitefish Point is actually one of the very early fishing villages on Lake Superior. As early as 1840, a small trading post and fish packing operation was set up by Peter Barbeau of Sault Ste. Marie. Barbeau had a general store where he would outfit hardy souls to establish posts along the shoreline on Lake Superior. They traded for furs and barrels of salted whitefish. Barbeau would then ship them out to places like Chicago and the east coast. Barbeau’s trading posts went as far as Minnesota. Whitefish Point was one he paid close attention to.
This old fishing boat sits next to the harbor another relic of the point’s past.
When the lighthouse was established in 1849, fishing here was going hard and heavy. Tons of barrel packed salted fish were being sent to the Sault every year from Whitefish Point. It was a very profitable enterprise. Occassionally the fish wouldn’t be packed right and the fish would spoil leaving Barbeau to smooth out relations and make amends.
This old band saw blade and belt are in the woods near Whitefish Point.
Though many have Whitefish Point’s beginnings at 1879, documents at the Sault plainly show that there was lots of activity here long before 1879, including some logging enterprises. Whitefish Point was used as a resupply point for the logging companies. There was a small population of approx. 60 people. There was a school and hotel. Also a general store and a post office was established. The population grew to 200.
The former Whitefish Point post office as it is today. It its earlier days it had a different front on the building.
One of the local commodities was cranberries. They grow wild in the region and eventually were cultivated. There were more than a dozen growers registered at Whitefish Point. There was a daily stagecoach that ran from there, south to Eckerman. It was a thriving community by all standards. But as time went on, it all faded.
Th Whitefish Point Lighthouse brings thousands of visitors to Whitefish Point and the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum which is housed in the lighthouse buildings.
Because of the Whitefish Point lighthouse and the life saving station, the village’s decline was a slow one. Fishing dwindled to one commercial fishery, Brown’s, which still is in operation. Most of the small town’s remains have disappeared but much of the property associated with the village is in private hands and still occupied as residential. But if one looks carefully, on the east side of Whitefish Point Road, between the harbor and the former post office, hiding in the trees, a few of the remaining relics of Whitefish Point can be seen.
An old fishing boat has seen better days as it sits being buried by the sands of Superior.
A turn into the Whitefish Point Harbor can be very rewarding. The harbor is shared by the State of Michigan and Brown’s Fisheries. There is a fence that divides the public land from the private. Brown’s Fisheries has old boats and buildings that date back to the early days of Whitefish Point and some of it can be seen from the parking lot of the Harbor. A couple of old fishing boats are beached on the shore and old storage barns are there too. It is a snapshot of not only Whitefish Point’s past but commercial fishing on the Great Lakes in general.
For a vision of the past, take a walk out towards the breakwall on the marina walkway. Go out as far as the last dock and turn around and look back. With the old fishing boats and storage buildings, the old dock, an image of the village of Whitefish Point appears, or a small part of it anyway.
The view of Brown’s Fisheries from the marina walkway showing what Whitefish Point would have looked like as a fishing village.
When visiting the lighthouse, it is good to note what was around it. A trip into the shipwreck museum leaves one with the idea that Whitefish Point is all about death and tragedy. It is so much more. It was a tiny place that provided food and lumber for the country in the harshest of conditions. It took people with tenacity and guts to face Lake Superior at its worst and create one of the earliest settlements. The village of Whitefish Point should be remembered alongside of its legendary lighthouse. It has its place in history too.
Pictures of early settlers trying to tame the wild country of Upper Michigan is always interesting to me. I don’t have many of these early settler pictures but I thought I could put up a few of my favorites. Some have focus issues as with many old cameras, but they are still glimpses into that rough and rugged past.
This is an old homestead that was near Marquette.
Some of these old pictures show some form of home life. We are so used to modern conveniences and technology, seeing these old pictures shows just how rough life was. It is good that the days of mud, muck, and manure are past. Some things of the modern age are not over-rated, hot water, lawn mowers, garden tillers, all products of trying to ease this harsh life.
This was located near the Sault on the Michigan side. It is the home of an Ojibwa family.
Often we over-romanticize the past, casting aside the many realities of life on a homestead. Everyday was a chore laden struggle for survival.
This picture was from an old stereoview. This was another from somewhere near Marquette.
The brutal environment, the bugs, the dampness from the marshes, the endless preparation for the next winter, all made living from day to day, an amazing feat.
This is a picture from Manistique that shows an early family. Yes, that is a child sitting among the chickens.
I hope you enjoyed these little windows of settling the U.P.
I was armed with two antique maps and a full tank of gas. How was I to fail? I felt confident as I drove down H-40 which runs through Chippewa and Mackinac counties. It’s a back route that’s between U.S.-2 and M-28. Formerly, it was a railroad route which had a string of towns along its way. Most of them now are gone or shadows of what they once were. The railroad still runs along the highway. The place I was looking for was Wilwin.
The old railroad building that stands at the corner of Wilwin Road. Part of the loading platform is still seen.
About five miles west of Trout Lake are a couple of old buildings marking the entrance to Wilwin Road. The old buildings are the first things to attest to the fact that Wilwin was once there. A railroad siding once ran where Wilwin Road is now bringing lumber to the main railroad trunk from the sawmills of Wilwin.
This old storage building is another of the relics at the corner of Wilwin Road.
I turned up Wilwin Road. The maps were showing the town’s location a couple of miles and then left for a mile or so. Seemed simple enough. I drove passing a couple of houses. The trees started getting thicker and the road began to wind through the woods. I love doing these kinds of drives, but it was beginning to seem like I had gone too far. I should have come across something by now, a clearing or old remnants, but the trail went on and there was no evidence of anything resembling a town site. Now the road was turning to soft sand.
I looked at the road ahead and concluded that I had gone too far and had completely missed the location or maybe a side road that I’d missed. I wasn’t sure, but I knew if I went further, getting stuck was likely. I turned around. Backtracking, I found a turn missed. I started down that road. not far in I came across a burned patch of ground and a small log with smoke coming out of it. (More on that here.) After dousing it with water I went further down the trail and there it was, the site of Wilwin!
The entrance to the Wilwin Lodge, fenced. A large portion of the towns former location is now a Graymont Quarry.
I turned my truck around at the entrance to the Wilwin Lodge, now apparently owned by Graymont, a Canadian cement company. To the south of the road was a large area where the town had one stood. There was nothing left. The old townsite had been cleaned up leaving next to no trace of Wilwin. I expect part of the old town is now Graymont property which is fenced in.
A small portion of Wilwin’s town site is visible along the trail near the gate.
The history of Wilwin is that of a logging town. Its history wasn’t long, but it was fast and furious. The beginning was around 1914 and was founded by a man named Frank Chesborough. The name Wilwin is a contraction of his two sons names William and Elwin. They raised a large sawmill and platted out a community. They bought a train and laid track intersecting with the main line. They built a boarding house along with a store. Single story homes were built to house the sawmill employees. A boardwalk connected it all. The town thrived, they were even selling the bark from the mill to a leather company.
The only signs left that part of a town was even here are the places where the ground is disrupted.
A huge lodge was built. It was reputed to be two storys with a balcony that stretched the length of the building, and full of leaded glass windows that contained nearly 2000 panes. It had a huge kitchen and a living room with fireplaces at both ends. Built by the Chesboroughs it was reputed to be the height of luxury at the time.
Then, in 1921, it was all over. Just seven years had gone by. The price of lumber fell and the costs at the Wilwin mill were too high. As quickly as it had begun, Wilwin was through. The houses were salvaged and removed. Some of them are still homes in Trout Lake and nearby Ozark. All of them and the boarding house were completely removed. The machinery for the sawmill was resold to a company in Dollar Bay in the Keweenaw. The mill itself was burned and then the debris removed. The lodge, as far as I know, still stands somewhere behind the fence put up by Graymont.
The black and white in this picture makes it easier to pick out the outline of where a building once stood.
It was time to head home. I had almost got lost and stuck, put out a potential forest fire and found what I was looking for. I was pleased with that. My day had been successful and eventful. That is always a good day.
This is a picture of some men camping out at a place that is still popular for camping to this day, Chapel Beach. Chapel Rock in Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore can be seen in the background.
Going camping back in the late 1800s was a lot different than it is today. There was no Coleman Company, no L.L. Bean, no ergonomic backpacks. And hiking shoes, not a chance. The equipment was heavy and bulky while the wilderness was formidable. The wooden equipment chest in the picture above attests to that.
This group camp was taken north of Marquette at Partridge Island.
The hunting camp shown above was a major project to set up showing that group camping has always been popular. There are both men and women pictured here representing several couples on this particular foray into the woods. It doesn’t appear they are moving on anytime soon.
Individual tent setup along a stream. This was the simple basic way to go. With the stream in the background this looks like a fishing trip.
Even in the early days, the U.P. was recognized for its value as a recreation paradise and fishing and hunting became the staple of the region. People of note began particpating in the sport like Henry Ford and William Coleman. Innovations followed and equipment made specifically for the purpose of portable camping became available. These early campers were the pioneers of an entire industry that today is worth billions.
This is an unidentified camp near Lake Superior. The woodstove pipe coming out of the tent flap is classic.
One thing that is still true, an adventure into the woods is like no other. The wilderness calls many of us and in response we are rewarded with experiences of a lifetime. Whether it is a lake, a stream, a mountain or the deep woods, these places fill a place in our souls that can be filled no other way.
Native Americans fishing the St. Mary’s River near Sault Ste. Marie.
Fishing has always been a part of basic human survival. Plain and simple, fish are great to eat. Around the world people use fish as a major source of their diet, but, the squirmy things are an awful lot of fun to catch. Fishing here in the U.P., like many places, is ingrained into the culture and as fishing moved from a necessity to a sport, it became even more so.
Fishermen line the Soo Locks as a ship locks through.
Fishing is one of those things that has never changed over the years. You can add all the technology you want to it, but when it comes down to basics, it’s still a stick, a string, and a worm.
When the smelt ran, everybody came out. Dip your net in and it was full of fish.
Of course there are different kinds of fishing, as the picture above illustrates. Smelt dipping was a spring rite of passage for many here in north country. The rivers would be lined with campfires, waiting for the smelt to run. When they finally did, the streams would be full.
Brook Trout fishing on a beaver pond on the backwaters of the Hurricane River. This guy is pretty dapper for being back here.
I’ve always been a fan of Brook Trout fishing. If you are doing it right, it is incredible excersize, but I have to admit that there is nothing as good as pan fried fresh caught Brook Trout.
Fishing the rapids at the St. Mary’s River has been a long tradition. These two are having a great time.
Fishing is a connection to our past. It is something we have in common with our ancestors going back to prehistoric times. It strikes a chord within us that gives a feeling of peace and when the day has success we feel excited and elated. Our fishing experiences stay with us forever. What can be better than that?
Mackinac Island view from the fort during the National Park era.
Every year Mackinac Island is inundated with tourists. The island in St. Ignace Bay has always been a focus of attention. After being the hub of the fur trade, the island saw a decline as fortunes dissipated in the early 1800s. Being on the shipping path of the Great Lakes kept it alive and cruise ships began hitting destinations throughout the lakes and one was Mackinac Island. People started coming just to see it. The natural beauty, the history, it all beaconed visitors to the region.
This is an engraving that shows a very early Mackinac Island.
Not long after the Civil War, a U.S. Senator from Mackinac Island, Thomas Ferry, realized how much potential Mackinac Island had and introduced a bill in 1874 to designate the island as a National Park! It passed. In 1875, Ulysses S. Grant signed the bill into law and Mackinac Island became the nation’s second National Park after Yellowstone.
What Mackinac Island is truly known for, relaxing and enjoying a day.
One of the interesting things about the bill is that it designated the fort an active facility, so, the Federal government retained the fort with full funding in case it was needed for war. Active-duty military at the time would run drills on the fort grounds. Mackinac Island was now a bonafide destination for travelers. In 1895 the fort was decommissioned, and the Federal Government was going to pull out. Then, Michigan Governor, John T. Rich, petitioned the Feds to turn over the fort and park to the State of Michigan which they did, making Mackinac Island our first Michigan State Park which is what it is now.
Another “View of the National Park” from the road looking back towards the fort.
Many of the photos used in this come from a series called “Views of the National Park.” They came in both cabinet cards and stereoviews. These are examples of the few I was able to find over the years. The engraving came from a History of Mackinac Island published by the National Park. They merchandised the place quite a bit for the time.
This is the view of Mission Point during the National Park era. It still looks the same.
The State Lock after construction in 1855. It shows how the Native Village was isolated along the St. Mary’s River.
The Soo Locks began in 1855. They were dug so that ships would no longer have to either shoot the St. Mary’s River Rapids, of have the ship portaged through the town of Sault Ste. Marie rolled on logs down what is now Portage Avenue.
This is taken from an interpretive sign down on Water Street in Sault Ste. Marie. This is the only picture I’ve found that depicts the ship portaging through the city.
The St. Mary’s Rapids, sometimes called Falls because there was a drop of 21 feet from the Lake Superior level to Lake Huron level, was the greatest obstacle to shipping in the upper Great Lakes.
This was taken in 1854 as the State Lock is nearing completion. I believe this to be the earliest picture of the Soo Locks being dug.
The digging of the Locks was an arduous task. There was an attempt in 1839 to build a canal, but it failed miserably, and the project was given up. In 1852, another attempt was made, this time sanctioned by the Federal Government and fully funded. Charles T. Harvey was chosen to head the project, and he began work with around 400 men. Eventually it would increase to 1700, doubling the population of the Sault. A pump system had to be set up to keep the bottom dry enough to keep working. The route took them through the local Native burial ground! Not an auspicious start for the canal. It was completed in two years. It was a mammoth project.
The gates of the old State Lock. The windlass which opens and closes the gates can be seen in the foreground.
The building of the State Lock was an achievement of engineering that still functions in essentially the same way it did when it was originally built. Though no longer controlled by a hand cranked windlass, the system of rising and lowering the water remains the same. The brilliance and the perseverance of the construction cannot be overstated. Battling water, disease, (cholera outbreak) and weather, the men had to work at sunrise to sunset no matter the weather and when cholera hit, many died where they stood. The completed lock opened in 1855. Suddenly, all of the construction workers and those employed to portage ships through town, were now unemployed creating a local depression. Out of work men were everywhere.
This is taken from an old Stereoview card from 1856. The three mast schooner is locking up on its way to brave Lake Superior.
In 1881, an additional new lock was built named the Weitzel. Traffic was increasing and a new lock was imperative. The State lock would be rebuilt in 1896 as the 1st Poe Lock.
The Toonerville Trolley waiting at the dock for the Riverboat Hiawatha.
UPDATE: Unfortunately, it appears that this piece has gone from a place to see, to a historical article. The trolley and riverboat are no longer running and are for sale. There have been no takers and this age-old attraction looks to be on the forever lost list. This was something that was always worth the effort to experience and I for one will dearly miss it.
As long as I can remember, the Toonerville Trolley and the Tahquamenon Falls Riverboat Tours has been at Soo Junction 15 miles east of Newberry. There is a reason for that. The business is much older than I am. Since 1927, there has been a train and riverboat tour running from Soo Junction to the picturesque Tahquamenon Falls. This perennial U.P. attraction is nearly 100 years old!
Sailing on the Tahquamenon River is full of wonderful views of the river and the thick wilderness that surrounds it.
The train and riverboat tour has been a staple of tourists and locals over these many years and is continuing into the future. As a kid and an adult, I have enjoyed every minute of this excursion. The staying power of this method of getting to the Tahquamenon Falls, proves that I am not the only one.
One of the views of Tahquamenon Falls from the Riverboat Tours destination.
First, the Toonerville Trolley, a short track train that takes a rider through the Tahquamenon wilderness to the famed river. It is a 1/2 hour ride back to the Tahquamenon River and the waiting steamboat. The train ride is leisurely and fun. As the cars are pulled through the woods, there is a very good chance of seeing a bear. They throw food off the back of the train bringing them in, though both times I’ve taken the train in last few years, I haven’t seen one. I know many who have.
Early days of Toonerville Trolley around 1940. It looks much the same today.
This little train started as a spur around the turn of the century and was used for hauling lumber from the Tahquamenon River which was a major thoroughfare for logging. There was a sawmill set up on the shore in the spot where the train meets the riverboat. The mill ran until about 1925 when it was permanently shut down. A man by the name of Joe Beach, who was a conservation officer, used to run daily river patrols of the Tahquamenon River from Newberry. It was a 14 hour trip to the Falls and back. Since the only way to access the Falls was by river, the State Park that most use today didn’t exist, Beach was often asked to take people with him so they could see this wonder of nature. An idea was born. He would start a tour business, but he would need to shorten the time on the water.
The train in the early 1960’s
He remembered the short line at Soo Junction and was able to lease the line which was not being used any more. He created a contraption that would run the rails out of an old Ford Model T. It ran the rails back into old sawmill location where now a small boat was waiting to take passengers to the Falls. As business flourished and the number of passengers increased, they decided to install a narrow gauge railroad which were quite common for logging and mining. In 1933, they laid the narrow tracks inside the wide tracks and the Toonerville Trolley was born. The name Toonerville trolley came from a popular cartoon strip called Toonerville Folks, many of the passengers referred to it as a Toonerville Trolley and the name stuck.
The Riverboat “Tahquamenon.” This was the flagship of the Tahquamenon River Tours – 1940
Riding the riverboat is an awesome experience. Not only does it take you to the falls and a view you can’t get from Tahquamenon Falls State Park, but the ride is pleasant and comfortable. The trip is narrated by the Captain pointing out not only points of historical interest, but tales from the past wild days of the Tahquamenon and even points out any wildlife that is being encountered by the boat. The Tahquamenon River abounds with wildlife, especially water birds.
The Paul Bunyan, the smaller of the two ships, the pair would pass on the river running two tours in a day.
The riverboat ride continues a tradition that began with Joe Beach, but continues on in the same tradition. At first, the riverboat was only a barge and a tug, but they could take nearly 100 passengers. In 1937, they had a large boat built that would be dubbed the Tahquamenon. It had a capacity of 400 people and included a dance floor and a jukebox. The trip had been shortened by 5 hours and was still a 9 hour trip. In 1940 another boat, the Paul Bunyan, was built and could carry 200 passengers. They were able to run two tours a day with as many as 700 people. It was quite an operation and it ran that way until 1963. The ships were wearing thin, literally, their hulls had worn out. It was time for something new and it came in the form of the Hiawatha. A newer faster ship that could cut the trip to 6 ½ hours. The Hiawatha is still running today.
The Riverboat Hiawatha, the ship that is currently in use on the Tahquamenon River.
It is a comfortable and fun ship. My ride up and down the Tahquamenon was enjoyable. On board there is bathrooms and refreshments. A small grill provides food and munchies for a reasonable price along with beer and wine coolers. The cheeseburgers off this grill are great. (You can bring a pack lunch with you if you want, but why, when the food is great.) There are times I think about taking this just for that reason, but there is so much more. When you arrive at the riverboat dock at Tahquamenon Falls, there is a 5/8 mile hike to where the falls are. (It is NOT handicap accessible.) It is through the woods, up and down a couple of stairwells and you are at the falls. You are on the opposite side of the river from the State Park so the view is very different. You stand there next to the roaring falls feeling the mist and hearing the wild rushing of the water. It is easy to understand why Tahquamenon is called the Niagara Falls of the U.P.
The 5/8 mile hiking trail back to Tahquamenon Falls. Incredible scenery walking this and the woods smell is overwhelming.
This is a worthwhile adventure for the entire family. Currently you can just take the train trip and take advantage of the picnic area on the banks of the Tahquamenon River and then ride the train back. Personally, I like to do the whole thing, the train and the riverboat, but since the boat trip is 21 miles and takes 6 ½ hours, it should be considered an all-day affair. The train ride is 35 minutes one way. The prices are reasonable, and this is the only way, other than personal craft, to see the Tahquamenon River upstream from the falls.
The hike back to the Falls is worth it. This is the view of Tahquamenon Falls as seen on the tour.
There is a reason this trip has lasted this many years, the Tahquamenon is a beautiful river and most of this trip has the appearance of Tahquamenon 100 years ago. It is easy to imagine the Native Americans paddling the river before logging took place. It was a main travel route for them. Taking this boat on an upriver cruise is a tradition that has spanned generations, a tradition that is still carried on. I highly recommend this most wonderful of U.P. attractions.
The docking site at Tahquamenon Falls. The Hiawatha waits after the walk to the Falls. I was grateful they served cold beer, the perfect after hike refreshment.
One of the many examples of wildlife on the Tahquamenon River. I shot this from the deck of the Hiawatha Riverboat.
Whalebacks were used to haul cargo across the Great Lakes. Pictured is the Colgate Hoyt, the first self-powered (steam) whaleback in the fleet. Circa 1890.
Whaleback ships were a unique design that was adopted to ship ore across the Great Lakes and particularly Lake Superior. Their shape was designed to lessen the impact of turbulent surf. When fully loaded they looked more like a submarine than a surface ship. They were used mostly as a tow barge replacing schooners which had been used before this.
Whalebacks at the Soo Locks towing each other a common practice in ore shipping.
Whalebacks were fairly common throughout the early 20th century. 44 of them were built between 1887 and 1898. Twenty-five of the whalebacks built were tow barges, the other 19 were steam powered. Most of them were built in Duluth, MN or Superior, WI as freighters for the iron range. None of them are left except one that is a museum ship in Superior, WI, the SS Meteor. (here is a link to the Whaleback Museum: https://superiorpublicmuseums.org/ss-meteor/)
Whalebacks taking on ore in Escanaba.
When loaded whalebacks were hard to see and were often run into by ships that couldn’t see them. Their hatches tended to leak and bend during stress which made them a hazard. The Whaleback is the forefather to the modern ore freighter that we commonly see now, like the neanderthal to the modern man.
Whaleback in the Soo Locks. A heavily loaded one can be seen behind it.
One whaleback was unique from all the rest. That is the Christopher Columbus, the only passenger whaleback ever made. It was painted white and 362 feet long, the longest ship on the Great Lakes at the time and the longest whaleback ever built. The Christopher Columbus was built to ferry passengers to the Columbian Exposition in Chicago. Thousands of passengers would ride on her and it was said she could hold 4000 at capacity.
The picture below is rare as I think it is the only one in existence. It shows the Christopher Columbus sailing up the Portage Canal at Houghton /Hancock. I believe this is its maiden voyage. It was built in Superior, WI and spent most of its time shuttling passengers in the southern end of Lake Michigan. Once it reached the lower lakes, it seems to have stayed there.
The whaleback, Christopher Columbus sails up the Portage Canal on what appears to be its maiden voyage.
Garnet Lake Campground – Finding a Lost Past in Mackinac County
A Point North
Sunset over Garnet Lake on my first night. It was a fantastic evening. I saw it as a good omen.
I came here on a whim. I didn’t know what to expect. The sign, “Garnet Lake State Forest Campground” had an arrow pointing down a sideroad. Those are the kinds of things that arouse my curiosity when I am cruising the U.P. I had never heard of the place which added more incentive. What I found was a little known secret place revealed.
It was remote yet there were a few residences I passed on the way in. When I drove into the campground, there was only one other camper. I spotted a shoreline site which drew me in. Surrounded by pines and hardwoods, the campsite was comfortable and spacious.
The campsite at Garnet Lake as twilight sets in and the beginning of a glorious sunset.
What I saw before me was a beautiful little lake. Flat and serene, cattails along the edges, it was the quiet place I had been looking for. I pitched my tent near the shore and unloaded my kayak. The small lake was an ideal place to paddle. That would be tomorrow’s fun. In the meantime I set up my camera on a tripod. I was on the east end of the lake and had an ideal view of the upcoming sunset. Already the sky was beginning to tint. It was the beginning of what would be a spectacular sunset.
Morning mist on Garnet Lake rises and moves to the quiet breeze.
The campground here is nice, but basically primitive. Though you can camp here with camper or trailer, there are no hookups, so it needs to be self sufficient and functional off-grid. The entire time I was here, there were only two other campers.
When I arrived, I knew nothing about Garnet Lake and the immediately surrounding area. I thought it was just a remote campground, but I was about to find out exactly how wrong I was.
Kayaking Garnet Lake is not only fun but chances of seeing some wildlife is good. This is a beaver lodge I paddled past.
It all began with my Kayak. It was a beautiful day and I couldn’t wait to get out on the water. There was a light breeze which kept the bugs away on the water. I began to paddle and the water was very clear and the bottom could be seen easily. I paddled near the reeds where I had seen flashes of red moving through them. They were dragonflies, thousands of them, bright red and flying everywhere. They moved so quickly it was nearly impossible to get a picture of them. It made me wonder if these were the reason for the name “Garnet” lake.
The garnets of Garnet Lake. These red dragonflys flit and fly everywhere around the water.
I paddled out towards the deeper part of the lake. I kept looking at the bottom. It was so clear that everything was visible. As I paddled towards the west end, I started seeing trees on the bottom, large trees. Then I saw they’d been cut. The trees were saw logs. Garnet Lake had been at one time a sawmill pond. There could be no other conclusion. That meant that this had been a stream at one time and had been dammed to hold logs for a mill. I paddled to where it looked like there might be a stream outlet. I found it, but it was brushy, grown over and small, so I couldn’t take the kayak further. It was just too much of a mess, so I turned around and headed back to camp, but now I was really thinking about what my paddle on the lake had revealed.
Somewhere down that creek should be the ruins of an old sawmill, maybe even more, like a ghost town or logging camp. Being a historian, the more I thought about this more intrigued I became. It was time to take a hike.
The ruins of the old sawmill at Garnet ghost town.
I grabbed my camera, some water and snacks and headed around the lake. The first thing I came to was the railroad which was still being used, though I hadn’t seen or heard a train since my arrival. The tracks shined with little rust. I turned west towards where I knew the sawmill creek exited the lake. It wasn’t long before I saw how right I was. First was the ruins of the old mill, then the remains of the old town of Garnet, Michigan. I realized the railroad was paralleling a black-top highway which I hadn’t realized was there either. It was H-40 which runs between US-2 and M-28. Garnet is between Rexton another ghost town and Engadine. To get to the lake I had taken a backroad from US-2 and had completely missed Garnet, the ghost town. There were remnants of the old town still standing while a few of the houses were still occupied, though Garnet today has little resemblance to Garnet of the past.
Old homestead near the sawmill. This is another remnant of the days of the ghost town.
Originally called “Welch,” The town of Garnet at one time had around 500 residents. There was a sawmill which produced mostly shingles. A general store and hotel was there along with a harness maker. There was a saloon, a boarding house, school, and a doctor. They even had their own Justice of the Peace.
This is a historical photo pf the old post office of Garnet.
1897 is the first year Garnet appears on a census showing 500 residents. The population would decline beginning in 1910. In 1915 there was only 150 people left. By World War II, there were just a few houses and a sawmill operating there now making handles for axes, shovels and hammers. The sawmill operated until at least the late 1970’s but now is a crumbling ruin.
Hubie’s Place, not sure what that was, but it sounds like it was a good time.
The layout of the town is still visible and a couple of the old original buildings can be seen, some empty, a few still being lived in. As I walked, I was pleased with myself for having deduced the old town had been here from the clues from my paddling. If I had come in from the north, M-28, I would have seen the remains of the town first and knew it was there from the beginning. But I hadn’t and I felt I had solved a mystery, added an extra layer to my stay at Garnet Lake.
The crossing at the railroad and H-40 where the heart of Garnet was. A couple of homes still occupied can be seen.
Back at my campsite I was treated to another nice sunset. I would have to leave in the morning, but it had been an adventure of discovery. I would go back now and learn more about the little place named Garnet.
This is an old deserted mansion at the ghost town of Garnet.
Grand Portal facing west. Before there was a boat tour, a small craft was the only way to view them up close.
It seems that Pictured Rocks has always been an attraction throughout recorded history. The magnificent rock formations drew comment and admiration from the earliest explorers. People ventured into them braving Lake Superior for a just a look. Recently I found a few old stereoview pictures that were privately made. Many photographers at the time created stereoview prints for commercial reproduction. Those are most of what are found today. Occasionally, the wealthier travelers would get personal stereoviews done as a vacation record. In other words early vacation photos.
Grand Portal facing east. This is a companion photo to the one above, both taken inside the Portal.
All of these pictures came dated 1892. Unfortunately, I do not have the names of who these originally belonged to. Looking at the picture it can be seen that they had an exceptionally calm day for their sight-seeing. Unusual water for Lake Superior.
Chapel Rock and River, 1892. This is one of the major destinations of early sight-seers. It sill is to this day.
In the early days travelers would set out from William’s Landing on Grand Island for their Pictured Rocks expeditions. Often these were multi-day affairs with traditional campsites at Chapel Beach. There are campsites still there for modern-day hikers. Now it only takes a couple of hours to see the rocks. Back in 1892 it was much more of an adventure and took serious commitment to arrive at the legendary Pictured Rocks.
Spray Falls in Pictured Rocks, 1892. This picture could be taken today. Very little has changed with Spray Falls over the years.
Weekly historical photographs – Au Train Lake – U.P. camping in 1889
Camp setup at Autrain Lake 1889.
I recently purchased a small lot of old U.P. photos from the Marquette area. In it were these cabinet cards. Unlike most old photos I find, these were labeled and dated. The caption on the back reads: “The Palmer Camp, Au Train Lake, Michigan 1889.” I found a second picture which also read the same as above. I have now reunited them since they belong together. This last picture shows that very little has changed at Au Train Lake in 130 years. Still a destination for fun on the water, this same scene can be seen still today in Au Train reenacted by dozens of visitors every year.
The Lake Superior Transit Company – Luxury Cruising the Great Lakes
S.S. India. One of the cruise ships of the Lake Superior Transit Company, one of several.
These are a couple of old pictures I received for my historical pictures collection. Unfortunately, I have been able to find out very little about this company or these ships. In 1878, they were already in heavy operation across all of the Great Lakes as this lineup of ships from a travel brochure shows. “Lake Superior Transit Company Line of Steamers: India, China, Winslow, Atlantic, Idaho, Nyack, St. Louis, Arctic, Pacific, Japan. (those are ship names, not destinations.) From the Ports of Buffalo, Erie, Cleveland, Detroit, Port Huron, Sault St. Marie, Marquette, Houghton & Hancock (Portage Lake), Duluth.” They were part of a fleet of luxury cruise liners for “high society.” They sailed from the late 1800’s through to the early 1900’s. They consisted of fine dining, formal staff, and exquisite drinks. The picture below illustrates one of the luxury dining rooms on board of one of their ships. A passenger could sail from Detroit to Duluth for $25 or $40 round trip. The fare was good for three months for round trip. This was the way to see the Great Lakes in the height of fashion.
Lake Superior Transit Company Postcard from one of the ships.
Sunset over Lac La Belle after a long evening of paddling. The air is still, the water is glass.
Lac La Belle/ Bete Grise – Keweenaw County – Michigan
A Point North
By Mikel B. Classen
The Keweenaw Peninsula in Michigan is a rough and rugged place. It is full of ghost towns, abandoned mines, lighthouses, waterfalls, and remarkable beauty. The discovery of copper there, turned it into a thriving region that made millionaires and then paupers of the same men. Communities were carved out of the Lake Superior wilderness and then died as quickly as they rose. Like many places in Copper Country, Lac La Belle rose as a community during the days of the copper rush.
But, long before the copper rush, the mineral had been mined and sought after. For thousands of years the natives had mined the soft metal, pulling it from the ground with their bare hands and then pounding it into ornaments and weapons. This early “copper culture” mined millions of tons throughout the Keweenaw Peninsula and Isle Royale. Near Lac La Belle, one of the largest archaeological finds of “copper culture” artifacts was discovered. Like those that came later, the copper of the Keweenaw was a commodity for the natives that gave them wealth and stature.
Lac, La Belle Marina. It is a public access for Lac La Belle and Lake Superior for the area.
Lac La Belle was dubbed “beautiful lake” by the early French trappers and lies south east of Copper Harbor on the Keweenaw Bay side of the peninsula. It is as far north as one can go on the east side of the Keweenaw Peninsula. The name “beautiful lake” still fits. Lac La Belle was probably long ago a part of Lake Superior because it sits so close the Beta Grise bay shoreline. It is overlooked by Mount Bohemia, one of the tallest of the Keweenaw mountains. Today the mountain supports a ski resort but over a century ago it supported much more.
A very grey Bete Grise bay on a very grey Lake Superior Day.
Bete Grise means “Grey Beast” and was supposedly given because of sightings of a strange unidentifiable grey creature that roamed the area. Another explanation for the name is that the Natives burned the blueberry bogs and the smoke hung over the lake and looked like a grey beast. My personal feelings are that it was given the name because on some days, Lake Superior can take on a dark grey look that can be frightening. I suspect that the “beast” is Lake Superior. Another legend of Bete Grise is that the sand at the beach here, “sings.” It is from a legend of a Native woman that lost her husband to Lake Superior and the noise from the sand is her calling to him. It is a kind of squeaking sound that the sand makes when you hit it hard with your hands or feet. I have noticed this phenomena along other parts of Lake Superior including Grand Sable Dunes and always thought it was pretty cool that you could make the sand squeak.
Lac La Belle is located on the east or “lee” side of the Keweenaw Peninsula. The west side, which includes Copper Harbor and Eagle Harbor, could see rough weather on a regular basis. It made it hard to ship copper from these ports due to Lake Superior’s unpredictability. Lac La Belle was connected to Lake Superior and Bete Grise bay by the Siby River, which no longer exists. A canal was dug and what used to be the river is now the Mendota Canal. It was an ideal port for shipping the riches of the Keweenaw.
Loading copper in the Keweenaw. This gives some idea of the amount that was being removed from the Peninsula. Though this wasn’t taken in Lac La Belle, it IS from Copper Country and Illustrates what Lac La Belle looked like at the time.
As early as the 1860’s Lac La Belle was looked at as an alternative harbor by the Mendota Mining Company which was mining copper and silver a few miles to the north. When it was dug, the lake became a hub of activity as a railroad was built connecting the area to mining throughout the Keweenaw. A smelting and stamp mill was built at the base of Mt. Bohemia and Lac La Belle soon filled with ships waiting to pick up loads of copper and lumber. Traffic was heavy enough that by 1870 a lighthouse had been established at the Canal mouth on Lake Superior marking the entrance to the harbor of refuge. The Mendota/ Bete Grise Lighthouse, it’s known by both names, still stands today. By the 1880s the region was thriving.
This is how the Mendota Lighthouse and and canal looked in its heyday. It still stands today with with a very different view.
Though mines were working in the surrounding hills, Lac La Belle was quietly being discovered for another reason. Fishing. The lake was teeming with perch, bass, pike, and walleye. Around the turn of the century, sportsmen became regular visitors to the area and as the mines played out and slowly died, Lac La Belle transformed. It became a place for sportsmen and tourists. Resorts grew up at the base of Mount Bohemia along the lake shore. It remains so today.
The tiny hidden community of Lac La Belle, is located in one of the most picturesque places in the Keweenaw peninsula. Nestled in the valleys of Mt. Bohemia and Mt. Houghton, the lake reaches towards Lake Superior. A channel allows the lake to flow out past the iconic Mendota Lighthouse located at Bete Grise harbor. Because there is no campground at Lac La Belle, few of the countless visitors to Copper Harbor venture down to this windswept point and see the eastern shore of the Keweenaw and of Lake Superior.
Outdoor Recreation Level: Expert. This pulled into the Gas pump at the Bear Belly Inn at Lac La Belle. I was impressed.
The small resorts surrounding the lake, some over a century old, are amazing places to stay. With private cabins and boat rentals, these places can provide a vacation that is comfortable and pleasant. I’ve found from experience, staying in these small resorts can be much less expensive than staying in a motel and in some cases less than a campground. Their comforts, most of them are fully functional cabins with baths, showers and dinettes, are those of a small home.
This is the cabin I stayin while in Lac La Belle. It’s a great place to come back to after a long day.
Haven Falls runs through the heart of the small community and is surrounded by a small but beautiful park. This little stop should be a part of any trip to the Keweenaw Peninsula. If nothing else, a picnic next to a waterfall and a lake is something you don’t get everywhere.
Haven Falls has a nice little park surrounding it that is an ideal place for a picnic.
Many of the resorts rent kayaks and boats. Lac La Belle is an incredible place to paddle. With both Mt. Bohemia and Mt. Houghton overlooking the lake, it is a sight only found in the Keweenaw. Through the canal and past the Mendota Lighthouse into Lake Superior is a memorable paddle. (Caution: the convergence into Lake Superior can be treacherous.) When I paddled it, there was little breeze and a calm sunny day. It was idyllic. I found myself periodically just floating, taking it all in.
Paddling Lac La Belle with Mt. Bohemia in the background.
When I got back into shore, I went to the Bear Belly Inn, next to where I was staying and had a cheeseburger and a beer. While I was in the area, I ate here a lot. An excellent place to eat and relax, it also sports a store and has gas. You can rent a boat or kayak here.
This is the interior to the Bear Belly Inn. Great food and beer here, especially their egg rolls.
The old railroad grades of the mining days are now ATV trails that crisscross through the peninsula taking riders into the depths of the Keweenaw wilderness through ghost towns and old mining ruins.
Instead of mining, Mt. Bohemia now supports a ski hill, resort, and an excellent restaurant. There is also a public beach along the Lake Superior shoreline. A drive to the end of the road, there is only one, will take you to the canal and face to face with the Mendota lighthouse on the other side.
The Mendota / Bete Grise Lighthouse as it appears today. Nearly enshrouded by pines it is now private property.
Lac La Belle has always been a favorite place of mine in the Keweenaw. The drive on the eastern shore of the Keweenaw, known as the Gay/Lac La Belle Road, is rarely traveled and reveals some of the nicest Lake Superior scenery of any drive. This tiny hidden place in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula is one of the overlooked gems of Lake Superior.
It’s always Christmas in Christmas.A true tale of the U.P.
The old Christmas sign. It was removed a couple of years ago.
Christmas belongs to the Upper Peninsula. It’s all ours. Not the holiday.. the town… Christmas, Michigan. It’s been ours for eighty years and it always will be. Christmas (the town) is where Christmas (the holiday) is on display all year ’round and all the trappings of the season are never all taken down, because, in Christmas (the town), Christmas (the holiday), brings visitors there all year to investigate the place that is named for the most celebrated holiday in the world.
If one were setting out to name a town after this particular holiday, there is no better location for it. Christmas looks the part… not only from a man-made aspect, but from a geographical standpoint as well.
Upon entering Christmas, especially during the winter, it looks like a vision of the North Pole. Christmas is three miles west of Munising in the middle of a snow belt. Since it is also on the Lake Superior shoreline, winter weather conditions can get very severe. Although it isn’t really the North Pole, it certainly could be an outpost.
In the center of town there are reproductions of Santa and Mrs. Claus with a large north pole post beside them. Businesses reflect the spirit of the communities name and follow along with the theme- such as Mrs.. Klaus’ cabins and Foggy’s Bar that features the “Reindeer Room”.
Christmas is a quiet place but there is still plenty to do. There is a Cross-country ski trail and snowmobile trail for winter activities as well as two nightspots and a casino. There are several motels and resorts that offer cabins for visitors. In the warmer seasons, there is everything to do that can be found in a lakeshore town including a nice park and Bay Furnace campgrounds. A newer business is the Paddler’s Village, a camping/ yurt experience on Lake Superior for paddler’s. Tourism is a staple income for the area and Christmas is no exception. It is an excellent destination point with a novel theme.
Before Christmas was Christmas, it was known as the Bay Furnace and designated the town of Onota. Beginning in 1869, there were immense furnace structures along the shore of Lake Superior where they would smelt iron from the Ishpeming iron range. There was a1400 foot dock for the ships to moor to as the came and went with the smelted iron. Over 50 kilns would be in operation at Bay Furnace’s peak. Thousands of tons of Pig iron were smelted in these furnaces.
Bay Furnace today restored in the Bay Furnace campground
In 1870 the town received a post office, designated “Onota.” The town would see a population of 500 by the time it peaked in 1877. It was during that summer, when a dry spell made the surrounding woods volatile. A fire began that burned for several days and at one point it swept down on Onota destroying it and all of the kilns. It was the end of Onota, or so it seemed, the name was moved 15 miles to the west to Onota township. Bay Furnace remained all but forgotten. The Bay Furnace company had been going bankrupt before the fire and the demise of the Bay Furnace operations seems to be a blessing in disquise.
Christmas (the town) came into being a little over eighty years ago in 1939 when a local individual decided to start a Christmas product oriented factory and call it “Christmas Industries.” Julius Thorson, a retired state conservation officer, bought the land and had the property registered under his business name of Christmas at the Alger County Records Office. The section always appeared in the plat books under the name of “Christmas” so the area simply retained the name.
The industry was short lived and burned down the next year and was never rebuilt, but the name stayed on the plat maps. From there the name stuck with the small community. Thorson had originally planned to establish an elaborate tourist complex on the land he had purchased, but the factory was the only part of the plan that materialized.
At the same time, a beaver farmer named Walter Giedrojc had a profitable farming venture going on. During prohibition, he augmented his furry occupation by bootlegging bathtub booze on the side, selling it out of the back door of his home. When prohibition ended, he went legitimate and converted his home into a tavern and named it “Beaver Park.” the building still functions as a tavern (and restaurant) now known as Foggy’s.
Development of Christmas (the town) as a resort area was brought about by a John Borbot and his sister Evelyn when they dismantled a nightclub in Dollarville in 1939 and reconstructed it at Christmas (the town). and called it the Knotty Klub. It was officially the first business in town and was followed by motels, gift shops, two grocery stores, restaurant, and another bar.
For tourists, the town of Christmas became another destination point just down the road from Pictured Rocks. The Christmas (the holiday) name and theme has drawn people to it time and time again, to enjoy the ambiance the little town offered that reminded visitors that every day could be Christmas (the holiday). The idea has worked well throughout the past 80 years, although it had its ups and downs.
In July of 1966, Christmas (the town) received a postal substation which officially designated it as a town. When the substation opened on July 8, there was a rush from stamp collectors from all over the world to get first-day cancellations on stamps from Christmas. That November, when the postal service issued its five-cent Christmas (the holiday) stamp, there was a big ceremony with local politicians attending and an official dedication of the post office was held. The Christmas (the holiday) stamp with the Christmas (the town) cancellation was quite a collectors item.
When it was determined that Christmas would actually become a town, a controversy arose over who had actually named the area. Was it actually Julius Thorson, or was it George Mitchell, the man who was also behind Christmas Industries? George Mitchell was involved with Thorson in the ill-fated project. His actual role in the business has been obscured by time, but it has been determined that he was either the money behind the project or the man Thorson hired to run it. Different accounts state different opinions.
When the Christmas stamp was issued with the first Christmas cancellation, Mitchell, who was a stamp collector and dealer in Homestead, Florida, perpetuated the rumor by claiming, in Florida, that he had named the town “Christmas.” He told his story to one of the Florida newspapers and word filtered north of his claims. It started a debate between local Alger county individuals and historians over who actually registered the name to the Christmas plat.
Finally, in a letter sent by Mitchell, he conceded that the name had been registered by Thorson and the controversy died down. To this day, though, the first stamp issued in Christmas is quite a collectors item and the publicity that Mitchell received and his dealership surely didn’t hurt his sales in Florida.
Getting a letter or card cancelled in the town of Christmas at this time of year has become a big tradition and every year, thousands of people receive mail containing one of these stamps. Even local businesses offer personalized letters from Santa with, of course, the now famous Christmas seal of authenticity
The people who live in Christmas (the town) celebrate the holiday Christmas, just like anyone else-with their family and friends, but the holiday is never far from their thoughts. It is a tradition that is capitalized on all year, and that isn’t at all bad. Many people try to keep the spirit of Christmas alive all year long and the people of Christmas certainly have a head start.
With their statues, businesses, street names (like Santa Claus Lane etc.), and their sense of fun, it’s always Christmas in Christmas and it’s right here in the U.P. It is a small charismatic little place that, even if you don’t stop, leaves you with a smile and some thoughts about this special holiday, no matter what time of year you visit or pass through there. In Christmas the town, it’s Christmas the holiday, all year long.
Charlotte Kawbawgam who is pictured above is a U.P. Woman in History. This Marquette area Native American changed the rights of Native Americans in a profound way and has become nearly lost in time. I expect few have heard this story.
Marji-Gesick, a Chippewa chief, was hired in 1845 by Philo Everett to locate valuable iron ore deposits near Ishpeming, Michigan. The ore was found exposed under an uprooted tree and the Jackson Mining Company was born. He was paid with a certificate of interest entitling him to stock in the company.
After Marji-Gesick’s death, his daughter, Charlotte Kawbawgam, who was married to Charlie Kawbawgam, the new Chippewa Chief, found the certificate. Charlie and her met in Sault Ste. Marie and were married by the Catholic church. When the Jackson Iron Company refused to recognize her ownership interest, she took the company to court.
The Michigan Supreme Court considered the company’s claim that Charlotte Kawbawgam should not be recognized as Marji-Gesick’s lawful heir because she had been born to one of the three women to whom her father had been married simultaneously. Polygamy was prohibited under Michigan law, but permitted under tribal laws and customs.
The Court decided that since the marriage was valid under Chippewa law, it must be recognized by Michigan’s courts. Charlotte Kawbawgam was declared Marji-Gesick’s lawful heir, inheriting his ownership interest in the Jackson Iron Company. This was a landmark Michigan Supreme Court decision acknowledging that tribal laws and customs govern the legal affairs of Native American families.
Charlotte, who eventually went blind, remained married to Charlie for over 50 years and they lived in a house on Presque Isle in Marquette. The pair are buried in Presque Isle Park and their gravesite is still marked there.
The story of Marji-Gesick, Charlotte Kawbawgam, and the Jackson Iron Company is immortalized in “Laughing Whitefish,” a book authored by former Michigan Supreme Court Justice John Voelker under his pen name, Robert Traver.
To learn more about Charlie and Charlotte Kawbawgam, the recently released “Kawbawgam,” by Tyler Tichler explores their life much more in depth. It is a U.P. Notable Book.
Just north of Las Cruces off of highway 185, is a place where dinosaurs walked. Well, actually most of New Mexico is where dinosaurs walked, but Prehistoric Trackways National Monument is one of the few places that the evidence of their existence can be plainly seen. Best of all, it costs nothing more than effort to see them.
Administered by the Bureau of Land Management, Prehistoric Trackways is about 5,000 acres and is a relatively new monument, only recieving the designation in 2009. About 10 miles north of Las Cruces on 185, a sign shows the turnoff to the Trackways. You will go down the road, over a bridge crossing the Rio Grande River. The next road to the right leads to the Trackways. There is no sign! The first time I drove past and missed the turn. The second time I googled the location and GPSed my way in. There is a small parking area where there is a kiosk showing some of the trails. There will be a trail running from the parking lot called the ridge trail. It lives up to its name running along the ridgetop of a deep wash. The picture above is taken from that trail and shows how deep the wash is.
After the trail winds over what appears to be a small extinct volcano, it drops down into the wash the trail has been following. The length is roughly two miles. Take some water. At the bottom you quickly realize that the occassional streambed is a sheet of hard rock and yes, it is full of dinosaur tracks.
When you start looking there are prints everywhere and it seems endless. This is considered the largest volume of paleozoic tracks anywhere in the world. The site was discovered by a Las Cruces resident named Jerry MacDonald in 1987. He had overheard tales from locals that they had seen places where these were visible and collecting the stories together he went hunting for them, eventually finding the location we all get to enjoy today. He also hauled out on his back 2500 pieces of the trackways which are now housed at the New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Science. If one is unable to hike out and see the trackways in their natural state, a visit to the museum might be a worthwhile aternative.
There are over 14 miles of trackways through out the Monument. This one is the easiest to access and I have to admit, there was a fair amount of work involved with the ridge hike. The others are scattered in various locations and are more difficult to get to. I recommend this one because the trail is marked and it only takes a few hours to do.
In some of these there are distinct claw marks showing their reptilian lineage. This area was also covered with what was known as the Permian Sea. Prehistoric crocodiles roamed these shores called Eryops.
While I was hiking, another hiker caught up with me and we walked through the trackway together. He’s pointing out the toemarks of what had to have been a huge beast. Not sure what it was. At the trackways you can get up close and really study these 280 million year old fossils.
There were also Dimetrodons, dinosaurs that had large fins on their backs. During the paleaozioc era this area would have been the edge of a large sea surrounded by volcanoes and thick foliage. These dinosaurs would have been hunting and avoiding being eaten. It would have been a thick humid place, not like the desert and mountains we see now.
The evidence of the long ago seas are here as well. These fossilized wave ripples from the bottom of the sea makes the conclusion obvious.
Fossilized sealife lays all around intermingled with the dinosaur tracks. Look closely, it’s everywhere.
Once you are back there and experience this amazing place, the hike is well worth it. One just has to keep in mind that there are no facilities of any kind here. No bathrooms, no water, no food trucks, though the latter might not be a bad idea.
As I followed the Trackway I realized that the wash we were following led back to the parking lot. I saw the wash when I first got there but decided it made more sense to follow the trail. If I had known that that was the same one I would have saved myself the climbing up the ridge. It would have been shorter and easier. Now I admit I really enjoyed the view from the ridge trail and it was a nice hike.
The picture above shows the Rio Grande River as it appears from the ridge trail. I’m looking forward to seeing how the Bureau of Land Management does improvements on the site. Marking the road with a couple of signs would be a good start. Finding Prehistoric Trackways National Monument is worth the effort, especially if you are a dinosaur nut like me. This is a chance to actually walk in the footsteps of dinosaurs. It’s an outing that is hard to beat.
Writing and photography by Mikel B. Classen. Copyright by Mikel B. Classen 2020
For more information on Mikel B. Classen, his writing or photography visit his website at http://www.mikelclassen.com
Those of you that know me, know I love a good ghost town. This is one of the best I’ve seen. In 1880, Silver was discovered in the north of the Black Range Mountains. The ore was discovered by a Brit by the name of Henry Pye. A few months after he filed his claim, he was killed by Apaches. But Pye’s discovery had gotten out. The town of Chloride was born and eventually swelled to nearly 3000 people.
Heny Pye’s cabin is pictured above. There were 12 producing mines and nearly 500 holes that had been dug by prospectors throughout the surrounding hills.
Chloride had 9 saloons, 3 general stores, restaurants, butcher shops, candy store, lawyers, doctors, Chinese laundry, 2 hotels, livery stable, smelter and sawmills.
Chloride began as a tent city. Hard Rock miners came from all around to try their hand at finding a motherlode in the mountains and canyons to the west of the town. The town grew as fast as it could be built.
Much of the town still remains and the words “Ghost Town can be applied loosely here. There are still a few hardy souls living here. They take care of the town and recognize it for the historical treasure that it is. A few locals keep it open for those of us that like to visit these kinds of places. There is no shortage of visitors to Chloride.
Main street in Chloride goes through the one tree that makes up the Chloride National Forest. It’s a 200-year-old oak that was there when the town began. I believe this tree was Chloride’s “Hangin’ Tree.” Though I haven’t found out how many men met their end here. For it to be named as it is, there had to be a few.
There is a museum at Chloride which is kept open most of the time. It is run by volunteers and is inside one of the old General Stores. The Pioneer Museum is housed in one of the original 1880 buildings and the interior is full of era correct artifacts. The building was originally built by a James Dagliesh who had the old timbers logged out of the nearby mountains. Eventually it became the local post office, pharmacy, and the local newspaper, The Black Range, was printed in the top floor beginning in 1882. Eventually, when the town began to die, so did the store.
When the store finally closed up for the last time, the owners boarded it up and covered it with metal roofing leaving the inside just as it was in 1923. They left everything including all of the stock, newspaper equipment, postal records, town records, original records of some of the early businesses, and even some of old copies of “The Black Range” newspaper. The building was sold in 1989 and after 4 years of restoration and cleaning, bats and rats had been living quite happily inside, the old store was turned into the Pioneer Museum. The items inside were a treasure trove. The end result is a great step back into time. I was also able to pick up a great map of New Mexico ghost towns for 10 bucks.
One of the things I really like about Chloride, is that the look and feel of the old silver mining town is still here. When the silver panic struck in 1893, Chloride began to die. The miners and settlers basically packed up and left everything as it was. A few stayed for a few years hoping that silver would recover but it never did enough to make it as profitable as it once was. An entire town was left behind. The dozen people that still live here, keep the town going for ghost town buffs and visitors. There is a small picnic and rest area in the heart of town next to the museum, visitation is encouraged. I recommend it.
The drive to Chloride is well worth it. Located between Socorro and Truth or Consequences just off New Mexico 52. The road goes through Cuchillo and Winston which are both ghost towns as well and worth checking out. A sign at Winston points left and Chloride is two miles down the road.
I don’t know why ghost towns hold such a fascination for me, but when I go to places like Chloride where people are working hard to preserve a quickly vanishing past, I always get a sense of wonderment, and my imagination shifts into overtime. I can picture the town of old, people filling the streets in their search for riches and prosperity. I can almost hear the racket from the saloons and smell the manure and mud that made up the streets. I have to admit the horses in a nearby corral didn’t hurt that effect. It was a different world then, though seemingly romantic, it was also hardship and often, death. The Apaches didn’t want settlers digging up their land and they retaliated. The mud and the manure created typhiod and scarlet fever. Tuberculosis was rampant. It was a harsh life. Only the hardy made it. Looking around Chloride, it is easy to see.
Writing and photography by Mikel B. Classen. Copyright by Mikel B. Classen 2020.
For more information on Mikel B. Classen, his writing or his photography, visit his website at www.mikelbclassen.com
When I drove into Fort Bayard, I didn’t know what to expect. There are so many sites where old west forts used to be that nothing actually remains of them other than a couple of interpetive signs. Fort Bayard is different. A large portion of this historical site stands for all to see. Located east of Silver City just off New Mexico 180, the fort is in the town of Bayard.
Founded in 1866, Fort Bayard was commissioned to protect settlers from Apache raids. The fort was garrisoned with a company of “Buffalo” soldiers, a troop comprised of African Americans, the 25th United States Colored Infantry Regiment. The name of the fort is in honor of Brigadeer General George Dashiell Bayard who was killed at the battle of Fredricksburg. In 1877, Corporal Clinton Greaves, commander of the fort and the buffalo soldiers, received the medal of honor for his campaign against the Apaches. A monument was erected to the Buffalo Soldiers.
In the 1880’s General George Crook, a soldier that had distinguished himself against Native American uprisings and it was his mission to put an end to the “Apache Problem.” General Philip Sheridan, who was coordinating the campaign to capture Geronimo, placed New Mexico Territory in the Pacific division which tied it to Arizona creating a jurisdiction among the western territories. In 1889, a former army scout known as the “Apache Kid” escaped from a prison stage headed for yuma and hid out in New Mexico. Lt. Colonel Zenas Bliss, Fort Bayard’s longest serving commander, was given the order to bring in the Apache Kid. The “Kid” would never be captured.
It was during this time that a young “Blackjack” Pershing was assigned here. Once Geronimo surrendered, it seemed Fort Bayard’s purpose was done. But, Fort Bayard had built a highly reputable hospital. It was decided to establish the Army’s first tuberculosis sanitarium and research center. Back then a sanitarium wasn’t for the insane, it was a place of rest and recovery. The reputation of the hospital and its staff prompted the decision.
Housing here was comfortable. Above is the nurses quarters which was roomy with common rooms and private quarters. The fort remained busy and fully garrisoned.
The officers also had comfortable surroundings. Above is one of the duplexes that were officers quarters. They were efficient and private, though they didn’t have any central heating. They didn’t have basements so they had to rely on the fireplace.
The quarters for the enlisted men were much smaller, though again not uncomfortable. Fort Bayard was made as comfortable as possible. The world of the fort can still be pictured. The soldiers can still almost be seen drilling on the parade grounds.
The picture above is an old theater. It held live performances as well as movies when they came into being. When I first looked at it I thought it was a church, but I spoke with one of the folks working there and they set me straight.
This is one of the Doctor’s quarters. Another duplex, these two story buildings we quite spacious and had plenty of room to raise a family. There was also a school at the fort. It was established to teach the “3 Rs” to the children of former slaves. In 1888 there were 118 students. This was the brainchild of Chaplin Captain Allen Allensworth who also established a library at the same time.
During World War II Fort Bayard was converted to a German prison camp. About 100 POWs were sent there and employed as maintenance staff because they were short due to the U.S. war effort. The POWs were paid army wages at the level of a private. The fort was abandoned after World War II.
Pulling in and learning a bit about Fort Bayard is well worth the time spent here. Driving or walking around can give a good picture of what life was like at this outpost. Fort Bayard was designated a National Historic Landmark in 2004.
Writing and photography by Mikel B. Classen. Copyright by Mikel B. Classen 2020.
For more information about Mikel B. Classen or his writing and photography visit his website at www.mikelclassen.com
Author’s Note: Many of these pictographs are subtle and faded. The more you study the pictures, more will appear in the stone. Spend a little time looking for the buried images in the rock.
While visiting the Cliff Dwellings at Gila Cliff Dwellings National Monument, there is another site that is also worth visiting. The “Trail to the Past” is located at the Lower Scorpion Campground and it is right along the road where most visitors drive by and never see. The site explores a Mimbres artist and his home.
There is a parking lot at the Lower Scorpion and towards the east end of the lot a hiking trail labeled “Trail to the Past,” leads to a rock wall that has prehistoric pictographs painted on it.
Only a few feet down the trail and it splits. To the left is a trail to a cliff house, more on that later. To the right is the rock wall where the pictographs are painted. There are quite a few here and many of them have faded though they are still visible. These have been painted over the last thousand years. There were several generations of rock artists living here.
Figures and designs adorn the rocks, most whose meanings have been lost to time. These messages from the past have yet to be understood. Their beauty and symetry are ever apparent.
When I stood here looking at these, I saw more and more images as I looked more intently. These are worth more than a glance and the more I looked, the more I saw. There was something painted on nearly every flat surface, some faded while others could have been created yesterday.
Many of the pictures baffle me as to what they were intended by the artist, while others stand out and are easily identified. The one above is one of those that is difficult to figure out. It appears as if it were several images upon each other.
This is one of those pictograph clusters that the more you look at it, the more you see. There are several different paintings in this picture. See how many you can find.
As I mentioned earlier in this post, the “Trail to the Past” splits in two directions. To the right is the pictographs, to the left is a cliff dwelling and was undoubtably the home of the artist.
This shows a bit of the interior of the dwelling, but it also shows a large red patch in the rocks above. This was likely where the painters of the pictographs got their color pigment for the pictographs. The red shade is the same as that of the rock art.
The trail to both the pictographs and the cliff house is quite short. The trail to the pictographs is handicapped accessible and is only about 50 yards from the parking lot. The trail to the cliff house is not handicapped accessible but is only about 100 yards. This place in the lower Scorpion Campground is overlooked by most visitors, and it takes very little effort to spend a little time here. I was the only visitor at the time. This is well worth the minimal effort it takes to explore this ancient artist’s home and his art from prehistoric America.
Writing and photography by Mikel B. Classen.
Copyright by Mikel B. Classen 2020
For more information about Mikel B. Classen and his writing and photography visit his website at www.mikelbclassen.com
This was sort a bucket list kind of thing for me. I’ve always wanted to see these and I finally got there. Of course it was raining the entire time, though I suppose it could be worse. It could have been snowing. I will admit that it didn’t diminish the impact of this ancient city in the mountains.
The drive there is a sometimes windy and treacherous roadway. It goes up across the Continental Divide and reaches nearly 9000 feet at one point. The scenery is breathtaking and one has to be careful to concentrate on the drive and not gawk at the scenery. Admittedly it is easier said than done. It takes approximately two hours to drive 45 miles. There are two roads that will take you there, New Mexico 15 out of Silver City which is the more difficult drive, it is paved all the way, but it has steep grades and very hairpin curves. The other way is by taking New Mexico 35 out of San Lorenzo and Mimbres. Though this is a longer route it is the easier to drive of the two.
When you arrive at the National Monument, established by Theodore Roosevelt in 1907, there is a visitors’ center where you can learn all the secrets of the cliff dwellings. A short mile later and you are at the parking lot for the trail into the cliffs. The hike isn’t long, round trip is about a mile, and the path follows a small stream that appears to have been cutting through the rocks for millennia. Then the climb begins.
There is about a 200 foot climb up to get on the level of the cliff dwellings. It is well worth the effort. The dwellings can be seen peeking out of the cliffs above on the left. Since it was raining, it was easy to come to the realization that these rocks are very slippery when wet. The pathway follows closely to the cliff edge and watching your step can save your life or serious injury.
One of the best things about visiting here is the fact that the Cliff Dwellings are not roped off. Visitors can walk in and through the interiors of this ancient village.
One can only marvel at the effort it must have taken to build these magnificent buildings so high in the air inside these caves. It is a feat of engineering that is almost hard to comprehend.
Because of the unrestricted access, the buildings can be seen with every perspective. Inside these caves would have been fairly cozy living for these ancient times. They are well sheltered and it wouldn’t have been often that wind or weather would have penetrated these caves.
There is beauty and aestetics here. Primitive yet elegant. Walking in the footsteps of these long lost people brings a feeling of timelessness that reaches deep into the soul. There is a memory there, one from the ancestors, powerful and almost familiar. Is there an ancestral memory here? Probably or at least something close to it.
Above is the gorge the small stream had cut that the path followed on the way in. This is what they saw from their homes. This rugged wild region has likely not changed since the Cliff Dwellers occupied this place. This would have been what their world looked like.
Some of the buildings could still be lived in. They are well preserved enough that the Mogollon could come back and start over without much difficulty.
This village dates back to 1200 – 1400 AD. It was continously occupied through those years and it is believed they left because of environmental changes. In the early 1900s some mummified bodies were found and were lost by looters and collectors. There was a child mummy found and that is the only mummy to make it to the Smithsonian.
Archaeologists have Idenfied nearly 50 rooms inside of the dwellings where they believed there were 10-15 families living. They even had bathrooms.
There are five caves all filled with rooms like these. Most of them consist of three rooms and though the are quite close together, each dwelling was definitively destinct as its own seperate structure.
This was one of those things that I have done in my life that I felt was quite profound. Realizing how old this village was, and how we overlook these pre-European civilizations with our education and history, it is a moving experience to stand amongst the remnants of this overlooked culture. The Mogollon achieved much in their two centuries on these cliffs. Though they didn’t leave much of a record, what they did leave behind tells a story of art, engineering and tenacity. They were able to carve out homes in the most formidable of environments, live their lives where most would have perished, and raise generations of family in harmony with their surroundings.
Writing and photography by Mikel B. Classen. Copyright by Mikel B. Classen 2020.
This local museum is packed with artifacts and exhibits that date back to times when dinosaurs walked the earth. Representing thousands of years of the history of Sierra County, the Geronimo Springs Museum has a surprise around every corner.
When walking in the door, one of the first displays is a pair of prehistoric skulls, one of a Mastadon and another from a Woolly Mammoth. As I’ve travelled through New Mexico it has become apparent that if you want to find evidence of dinosaurs, this is the state to do it. This room is full of fossils and gem stones that all came from Sierra County.
There is a wonderful collection of Mimbre pottery which includes ancient tribes of humans including the Mogollon and the Anasazi. These tribes flourished approximately 1000 years ago.
The color of the clay pottery helps determine what era they were made. These are from the Black and White phase. The patterns and imagery show a very sophisticated work of art that is difficult to achieve even today.
The Anasazi are probably the best known of the prehistoric tribes. Flourishing over a thousand years ago, they were proficient in astronomy, agriculture and trade. Like all of these early North American tribes, they abandoned their villages and disappeared into the shadows of the past.
Pictured above is an amazing display of prehistoric arrowheads and points that was displayed by a true artist. Not only is it fun to check out the countless heads and points on display here but the patterns the display creator chose to portray this collection with.
The beginning of European history in the area began with Coronado in the 1500s. The coming of the Conquistador conquerer opened New Mexico to early Spanish settlement, much to the detriment of the Native tribes that already occupied the region. They were enslaved by the Spanish and treated cruely with tortures only those during the Spanish Inquisition could devise. They brought those horrors to the tribes of New Mexico.
There were those that refused to be conquered. In 1680 the Natives had had enough. In what has become known as the Pueblo Revolt, tribes across the region almost suceeded in killing every Spaniard in the region. Even images of the conquistaors that were etched in rock were destroyed in an effort to wipe out all memory of their cruelty. As a note of weird trivia, the artist who painted the last two images, and I can’t remember is name, would sign many of his paintings by firing a bullet through the canvas.
Since the museum is named Geronimo Springs it is probably time we got to the namesake. Apaches such as Geronimo had made this region their home as had Victorio and Cochise. Each one went to war with the U.S. Cavalry and the Apache became one of the fiercest fighting tribes the Cavalry came up against. First off, they knew the countryside and thrived in it. When it came time for the Army to hunt them down, it was an endeavor that spawned legends. There is much to learn about Geronimo and the Apaches here.
Originally the Spanish came and encroached on their land and then their descendants, the New Mexican farmers pushed them. It was soon to be followed by American settlers who would also push them out. The Apaches pushed back, hard.
Eventually, the cattle and sheep ranchers came along claiming thousands of acres for themselves. The army was ordered to round up or destroy the Apache. Keep in mind this was also happening to the Navajo, who were further north, as well. It was time for the Native American to go!
The museum takes artifacts from all periods and paints a vivid picture of the past. The town of Truth or Consequences has its own story as well. From being Apache land to frontier town, it became Hot Springs, New Mexico.
One day this man came along, Ralph Edwards. He was a very popular producer and MC of radio shows. One of his most popular was the game show, Truth or Consequences. It eventully became a very popular TV show as well along with another favorite – This Is Your Life.
Edwards was aproaching the 10th anniversary of his show Truth or Consequences. He announced on the radio that he would do his 10th anniversary show in any town that would change their name to Truth or Consequences. Hot Springs, New Mexico responded which is how T or C got its name.
Edwards didn’t stop there. He made it an annual event, they called a fiesta, that went on for quite some time. The picture above shows the amount of Celebrities that showed up over the years in Truth or Consequences much to the delight of the residents.
The Geronimo Springs Museum covers a lot of historical ground and will take a little time to view it all. It is one of most comprehensive museums I’ve seen in the region and the displays are as good as anywhere. It is well worth some time to stop in here.
For more information and writing by Mikel B. Classen, visit his website at www.mikelbclassen.com To buy any of his books go to his website or find them on Amazon.
All writing and photography by Mikel B. Classen. Copyright 2020 by Mikel B. Classen.
The Black Range Mountains are part of the Gila National Forest. The road above, New Mexico 152, runs between Caballo and Silver City through the heart of the Black Range Mountains crossing the Continental Divide. The drive is amazing and dangerous. Tight hairpin curves and sheer drop cliffs where ditches should be makes this an exciting drive.
The Emory Pass reaches and altitude of nearly 9000 feet and is breathtaking. It is named after William Henry Emory who crossed the Black Range in 1846 on the way with the Army of the West which marched from New Mexico to California to liberate the Californians from the Spanish. For the record many of the Californians did not want to be liberated and rose up and nearly defeated the American intruders.
There are over 3 million acres in the Gila National Forest. It encompasses the entire Black Range and is as rugged of a mountain range as any. Part of the national forest is known as the Aldo Leopold Wilderness Area. It comprises nearly 300k acres and includes much of the Continental Divide in this region.
Aldo Leopold was born in 1887 and fell in love with the outdoors at an early age. He eventually went to Yale Forest School and joined the U.S. Forest Service which had just been established in Arizona and New Mexico. In 1922 he developed a plan to manage the Gila National Forest as a wilderness area, the first of its kind. A few years later he wrote the first textbook on wildlife management. He became the first wildlife manager in the nation. He died from a heart attack fighting a neighbor’s grass wildfire in 1948.
At the top of the pass is the Continental Divide. A hiking path runs the ridge that makes up the divide for 30 miles. The hike meanders through the depths of the Black Range where legends of lost gold and stories of Apache wars abound. The Apaches used these mountains regularly before they were driven out.
This is the view from the top of the pass at the Continental Divide. There is a pullout here and this is a sight that shouldn’t be missed. I got out here and the smell of pine and melting snow made me feel at home. It smelled like the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.
The Continental Divide Hiking Trail, a rough and treacherous trail. Not for the faint of heart.
Passing the Divide, streams run to the west and the melting snow is feeding the mountain streams. This is one of the origins of the Gallinas River. Driving down the other side of the pass, the stream grows as the elevation drops.
The speed through here is slow. When the say 15 miles an hour for a curve, heed it. This is a place where going into a ditch puts your vehicle in the top of a 40 foot tree. It takes time to negotiate this road with hairpins and S-curves. The beauty is magnificent and worth the drive.
This picture is looking back at the Black Range from the West. Back down in the desert lands, the trip almost seems like a dream, the wondrous world that exists in the Emory Pass, is behind, but it will be there for the next time I decide I need a fix for the Black Range Mountains.
Today we are going to explore a New Mexico Ghost Town. Hillsboro was a prominent part of the mining boom that occured along the Black Range Mountains. Today the Black Range is part of the Gila National Forest which encompasses over 3 million acres of public lands. The Black Range is also called the Devil’s Mountains or Sierra Diablo.
This crumbling old adobe home is located in the ghost town of Hillsboro, New Mexico. This was from the “Spanish” section of town. The Anglos preferred to be in their own part of town. These old ruins still show the adobe bricks and mud. Close up you can see the straw poking out of the brick.
I was informed by a neighbor across the street, Hillsboro isn’t completely abandoned, that the above picture is a trough for separating gold. I thought it was a watering trough for livestock, but he explained to me that the bar sticking up in the middle was a guide for a large mill stone that would roll around the trough crushing the ore to powder. The Hispanics would then separate the gold from the crushed ore. This milling method was something that was specific to the Spanish culture.
This picture is a close-up of a vent. This vent would have run under the floor to keep the house dry. The long nails run through it was to keep varmints out which this desert region is full of. Old time solution to a timeless problem.
The ghost town of Hillsboro is technically still occupied with about 80 residents still living there. It was founded in 1877. A gold strike produced two profitable mines called the Opportunity and Ready Pay mines. It was the first county seat of Sierra County and had about 1200 people at its peak. The mines were said to have produced over $6 million in gold and silver. When the mines petered out the county seat was moved to Hot Springs eventually named Truth or Consequences.
Remnants of days gone by can be seen down every street in Hillsboro. There are still a few remaining businesses such as a small cafe, a bed and breakfast, a winery and a local museum.
Our Lady of Guadalupe church is still an active church with a congregation of current residents as well as ranchers from the countryside..
This is one of the other fascinating ruins at Hillsboro. It is the old jail house. It was fairly large for back then. Some of those miners were apparently out of hand frequently. In 1899 the jail held three men that were tried for the murder of Territorial Judge Albert J. Fountain and his son. Fountain once defended Billy the Kid for murder and lost the case. The Fountain murder is shrouded in mystery as the bodies of he and his son were never found and suspected of hiring the murderers was Oliver Lee and Albert Fall two of the largest ranchers in New Mexico at the time. The famous Pat Garrett was even suspected of being involved. Fountain was on his way to testify against the two ranchers when he and his son was murdered. The suspects got off with lack of evidence.
This is a B&W I did of one of the ruins that sets next to the jail in Hillsboro, NM. I’m not even sure what this was but I thought it looked cool. Hillsboro can be found on New Mexico 152 southwest of Truth or Consequences approximately 32 miles.
All Writing and Photography by Mikel B. Classen. Copyright 2020 by Mikel B. Classen
