Ghosts of Nevada’s past still worthy of visit

The wide Nevada landscape is littered with the remains of hundreds of towns built on the promise of great mining riches, then discarded when the dream either died or never quite became reality.

The names of these boomtowns -- Rawhide, Goldfield, Midas, Silver Peak and Goldpoint -- were often descriptive and colorful but ultimately serve as reminders of the giant aspirations of those dreamers who dared hope they had stumbled upon the next Comstock Lode.

There is something mystical about an old Nevada ghost town. Perhaps the magic comes from the fact that once there was once so much life in these towns and now there are only the ghosts. Some, like Belmont, Rhyolite, Berlin and Goldfield, offer at least a glimpse of their former glory, while others are little more than stone fragments, broken bottles and a mention in a history book or on a ghost town map.

Today, it still is possible to wander across Nevada and find the ghostly remains of these mining camps and towns. There you can stand among crumbling stone walls and listen to the wind tell tales of wealth and woe, of instant cities that just as quickly died.

In some cases, these mining communities never had a chance. For example, one of the state's most picturesque ghost towns, Rhyolite, was also one of the most overly promoted when it came to actually producing gold and silver. Overlooking Death Valley, about 120 miles northwest of Las Vegas, Rhyolite was a town built on the edge of an inhospitable land.

Established in 1905, the town quickly grew to include more than 6,000 residents. Within five years, it boasted three railroad lines, its own stock exchange, several banks and blocks of stone buildings.

Initial assays for the district -- called the Bullfrog Mining District because of the green color of the gold ore -- indicated ore with a value of $3,000 a ton, but those early signs were misleading. Ultimately, only slightly more than $1.5 million in gold was pulled from the area, considerably less than was spent developing the community.

By the mid-1930s, Rhyolite collapsed with the reality that all accessible ore had been removed. Many of the town's structures were dismantled to become building material for other communities, particularly nearby Beatty.

However, a few of the hardier structures have survived. The two most intact structures are a rare bottle house (the walls are constructed of old bottles, a common practice in mining towns where building materials were scarce) and a large, mission-style railroad depot.

While Rhyolite was a town originally created from a little bit of gold and silver ore and a lot of blue smoke and mirrors, Belmont was luckier. From 1865 to 1890, the Belmont area produced about $15 million in gold and silver. For a time, Belmont, located about 45 miles north of Tonopah, was the Nye County seat and seemed well on its way to permanence. But once the ore dried up, the town began to fall into the familiar pattern of decay and neglect.

A visit to Belmont is a chance to commune with the spirits. Just outside the main part of the town are ruins of an abandoned mill site. Red brick walls and the remains of large smokestacks are all that's left of the Monitor Mill. Newer houses have been constructed around the older structures, including one home with a satellite dish. It appears that Belmont had been at least partially reclaimed from the ghosts.

Despite the new construction, there is still plenty of old Belmont to see. The main street, now paved, is lined with aging storefronts and remains of what was once the town's central business district. On one side, one can find the arched brick facade that probably was the town bank. Across the way are tumbledown pieces of the former Cosmopolitan Saloon. North of the town's center is the Belmont Courthouse. The picturesque two-story brick structure has been partially restored by the Nevada Division of State Parks, which no doubt saved it.

Perhaps the best preserved of Nevada's turn-of-the-century mining towns is Berlin, 23 miles east of Gabbs in central Nevada. Founded in the late 1890s, Berlin never grew beyond a few hundred residents and only produced gold until 1909, then faded away. Records indicate a yield of only about $2.50 per ton of ore. Fortunately, the town was acquired at that time by a mining company, which protected its buildings over the years.

In the 1970s, the town was turned over to the Nevada Division of State Parks, which has maintained its mill, several homes and commercial buildings in a "state of arrested decay." The result is a virtually intact mining camp, although the mill equipment was removed for scrap during World War II. State park rangers offer guided tours of the town, explaining the use of each building.

Berlin is also home to some of the world's largest ichthyosaur fossils. A visit to Berlin-Ichthyosaur State Park reveals full skeletons of these giant swimming carnivores that averaged 50 to 60 feet in length and weighed 40 tons.

If Berlin was one of Nevada's smallest mining towns, then Goldfield, 26 miles south of Tonopah, was the largest.

Gold was discovered in Goldfield in 1902 and within five years the town grew to more than 20,000 residents. Goldfield was big-time. By 1904, the town's mines were producing more than $10,000 a day, and within two years, Goldfield had surpassed Tonopah and Virginia City as the biggest town in the state with more than 20,000 residents.

In 1908, the Goldfield Hotel was built, giving Goldfield the most modern and luxurious hotel between San Francisco and Kansas City. It boasted an elevator, imported rugs and gilded gold ceilings.

Goldfield began to slide after 1910, when the mines began to decline. Today, Goldfield remains an interesting history lesson. Despite the destruction caused by floods, fires and neglect, the streets contain the heart of the old town. The impressive Goldfield Hotel still stands and has undergone a partial renovation. Across the street, the large Esmeralda County Courthouse is still in use. Its old-fashioned charm remains evident even in the public seating area, where hat racks beneath the seats hearken back to the days of cowboys and gentlemen attending court.