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Hidden Treasure Mine
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| Hidden Treasure Mine entrance in Harquahala Mountains |
A couple of fellows found gold there
in 1932... It looked to me as if they simply
walked off the job one day and never returned.
While traveling across the Sonora Desert of western Arizona on Friday morning, February 2, 2007, I decided to spice up
the trip by diverting off westbound I-10 onto Salome Road so I could drive deeper into the desert and really see the land.
I ended up on a fun little diversion that was very entertaining.
Ten miles or so south of the wannabe town of Salome I ran across a dirt path with a barely noticable sign overhead naming
it "Treasure Mine Road." I couldn't see anything resembling a mine in the distance, but roads have to get their names from
somewhere and it seemed that whatever was at the end of this one might be a lot of fun to see.
The route was not really a road but simply a four wheel drive excursion carved out with a bulldozer, teeming with bowling-ball
sized rocks and flash-flood gulleys. Emboldened by the fact that I was in a rental car with full coverage, I pointed
my blue Dodge Caliber toward the mountain ridge five miles to the north and gave it a try. Lo and behold, after manhandling
a few nasty bumps and rocks I found I could make it.
Several dramatic miles later I arrived at the base of a ridge that formed the southern edge of the Harquahala Mountains.
If you're so inclined you can drive there yourself with this map link, but I'd recommend a four wheel drive SUV for the trip. As I got closer to the mountainside I could make out two mine shaft
openings that were given away by the tell-tale piles of discolored earth in front of them where the dirt was discarded after
digging. I plowed up a steep embankment with my little Dodge clawing at the gravel and spinning its tires and came to a stop
on a plateau at the mine shaft's opening.
Ever aware of rattlesnakes, I got out of the car and looked around. There were no historical markers and no signs of
life. The nearest road was five miles away and not a sound was to be heard. A sign hung over the door to the mine shaft declaring it off
limits, no trespassing, danger ahead and the usual load of threats to otherwise peaceful people. Our founding fathers would
have been proud as I ignored the sign and went on about my business (the area is now federal property and belongs to you and
I... had it been under private ownership I'd have respected the owner's wishes).
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| Five miles of rough road through the Sonoran Desert brings you to the old Hidden Treasure Mine |
The wood framed door was obviously the main entry to the mine, while another smaller shaft had been dug a few hundred
feet higher up the mountainside. I tentatively walked toward the main, lower doorway, scanning the ground carefully for slithery
critters with diamonds on their backs. I don't know why I bothered to look... you can't see the blasted things even when you're
standing on them. It should be noted that I find rattlers fascinating and have no real phobia of them, however, I was in the
middle of the Sonora desert with no cell phone signal and no hope of medical assistance so common sense seemed to have
been in order.
Twenty yards and no snakes later I ducked into the shaft entry - video camera rolling - and tried the door.
Some do-gooder had welded the door closed, forever denying the rest of us the opportunity to risk our health for the
sake of fun and adventure.
After a bit of research, it turns out that the doorway had been installed after a couple of fellows named Meyers
and Lazure found gold there in 1932. They established three claims and two years later sold them to a pair of businessmen
named Meyers (a different Meyers) and Neal, who made the mistake of dumping money in what would turn out to be a lousy investment.
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| Frustrated explorer thwarted by welded door |
After digging a 200 foot shaft into the heart of the mountain, Meyers and Neal began working a "stope," that is, a stair-step
like formation dug up into the ceiling of the shaft in order to mine the ore deposited therein. The stope extended for another
140 feet and yielded 22 rail cars of ore in 1935.
The mine produced a bit of gold and a few shards of silver, along with calcite, limonite and a few other minerals named
"ite." Reports say it churned out about $12,000 worth of gold which hardly qualifies it as a rich strike. The mine went through
nine more owners over the next thirty-two years, producing some 1,700 tons of ore. By the mid-50's it was virtually abandoned
and the last die-hard miner from the Tulsa Minerals Corporation left in 1967. He didn't clean up very well after himself.
An old rail car remains parked outside the upper entrance along with a pulley system, ore box and several tools. It looked
to me as if they simply walked off the job one day and never returned. A few more recent digs can be found but they were clearly
done in haste by amateurs looking for a gold nugget that Meyers and Neal had overlooked. One of them even left behind a cooking
grill and a sifting pan.
All in all, I was quite happy with my little discovery and after satisfying myself that no gold nuggets were under my
feet, I opened the back of my abused little Dodge and made a lunch of Hickory Farms smoked turkey sausage (honey and brown
sugar flavored - great stuff!), chips and salsa and Arrowhead spring water with Hershey's Special Dark Chocolate Kisses providing
the coup de grace. It was a relaxing lunch in a remote sort of solitude that only the furthest reaches of the desert
can provide. Although the landscape was different, the solitude reminded me of what I had seen six years before in the eastern sands of the Sahara.
After lunch I made my way back to the main road and continued through the Sonora Desert toward my work destination,
but this had been a worthwhile stop that I truly enjoyed.
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