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Showing posts with label Brent Underwood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brent Underwood. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 10, 2023

Cerro Gordo - the Ghost Town

The road to Cerro Gordo

“This road looks a bit sketchy,” I stated.

My traveling partner on this trip was our old friend, Paul.

“Nah, you got this,” he replied.

Just then a humongous propane tanker truck came down the narrow dirt track right in front of us and stopped.

“I don’t think I got this,” I said.

Nice view of Owens Valley from a steep incline

Being the courteous driver I am, I stopped and backed into a very little crawl space on the side of this mountainous road toward the ghost town of Cerro Gordo.

The driver of the tanker stopped, and yelled through his open window, “You’ll have to go around me. I’m too heavy and will topple off the dirt road to the valley below.”

The valley below is just east of Owens Valley, and was probably a hundred thousand feet straight down.

“I’ll get out and guide you,” Paul said. The truck door closing, nearly masking his statement.

I travel a lot. I sometimes get myself in situations that are not the best for me, or the particular vehicle I may be utilizing for this trip or that. This was one of those times.

I wasn’t sure what to do. So, I backed up, allowing the propane delivery vehicle to edge by me and take the spot in the tiny turn-out on the dirt road.

“You got plenty of room,” the driver yelled.

Plenty of room does not include the concept of not seeing the road from the driver’s window. All I saw was a steep drop off to the Owens Valley. The passenger mirror barely missed the end of the propane truck by the time I traversed this harrowing spot in the roadway. 

I applied the brakes and waited until Paul caught up with me.

“That wasn’t so bad,” he assured me.

“You weren’t driving,” I replied. “Heck, you weren’t even in the truck.”

“I was guiding you.”

“I should have guided you.”

Paul shook his head, “Nah, it is your truck. I wouldn’t want to be the one responsible for tumbling off the road and crushing it.”

The road to the tiny old mining town of Cerro Gordo is not for the faint of heart. It is eight miles of crooked earth, torturedly carved out of the steep mountain side in the White Mountains, just east of Keeler on Highway 136, which is off Highway 190 out of Olancha, which is on Highway 395.  

Welcome to Cerro Gordo

The history of the town though, is quite interesting and that made the white-knuckler adventure worth it.

Cerro Gordo – Fat Hill in Spanish – was named for the amount of ore found there through the years, beginning in 1865. And as with any mining town, that’s where our history begins. Pablo Flores found some rich veins of gold and silver and began processing it. Then, through the ensuing couple of years, others heard of the chances of getting rich and by 1868, the place was starting to get a pin in the map of next bonanzas.

The problem was, Native Americans living in and around Owens Lake didn’t like all the newcomers taking their ancestral lands and serious issues developed. To counter that, Fort Independence was built, and the United States Army explained to the natives living there that they could either go along with the mining operations or leave.

One of our darkest moments is history, they were generally expelled from their lands in favor of the mining operations when they complained. 

In 1868, Mortimer Belshaw came to town and began a partnership with another person in the Union Mine. The mine was the first to deliver a cart load of silver to what was then small town of Los Angeles, and the boom was starting for this high elevation locale in the White Mountains.

Belshaw was quite the entrepreneur. Not only did he own a large part of the riches coming out of the area near Cerro Gordo, but he developed, if we can call it that, the dirt path up the long and dangerous eight miles a toll road.

Part of what remains of Cerro Gordo

The road was known as the ‘Yellow Road’ for the color of the rock the road was cut through. He made a lot of moo-la-boola, with the ore he was sending to Los Angeles and the tolls for those willing to risk coming up the ‘Yellow Road.’

A pretty smart dude, that Mortimer Belshaw.

“Can you imagine driving a team of horses up and down the road we just drove?” I asked Paul.

“I can’t even imagine driving your truck on it.”

“You didn’t,” I replied, my white knuckles were still white as we approached the end of the road and into the town of Cerro Gordo. 

Almost pristine building in Cerro Gordo

The town is currently owned by Brent Underwood. Yes, ghost towns do go on the real estate market now and then, and Brent bought all three-hundred and sixty acres of the town in July of 2018.

A building under re-construction

In all fairness, I did email Brent a few times to see if we could meet in the town, but I never did receive a response. He’s a very busy man – he has a YouTube channel called Ghost Town Living, and probably has around five billion followers.

“Brent, it’s John,” I would have said. “Got time for an interview.”

“No interview for you,” he might have responded. “I’m a very busy man.”

Actually, speaking to the manager at Cerro Gordo, Brent seems to be a very nice and caring guy. He purchased the ghost town to restore it to its original design. And, that is going to be a lot of hard work.

“Brent wants to make this a go-to place for tourists,” stated the manager. In all transparency, I don’t recall the young man’s name. He was nice and very informative but my notebook was in the truck a hundred yards away, I was tired – it seemed a long walk to retrieve it, especially at such a high altitude.

Cerro Gordo Peak is over nine thousand feet in elevation, and the town of Cerro Gordo is nearly eighty-five hundred feet above sea level. Going back to the truck and grabbing my notebook would have acquired a twenty minute nap, and we were on a schedule on this specific day.

“We have plans to make the town exactly what looked like during its heyday,” the manager stated. “We have a lot of people driving up here and wanting to spend some quality time, just enjoying the serenity of the place.”

Standing on the wood porch in front of the visitor’s center, I knew why a person would want to come up this steep mountainside. The views of the Owens Valley and the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range to the west were spectacular.

Interior of the visitor's center

Cerro Gordo produced a lot of rich ore for the miners and owners in this desolate location. It is estimated that over seventeen million dollars’ worth of gold and silver was mined between 1865 and 1949. That is about a hundred billion dollars in today’s money.

“Wander around a bit and take in the scenery,” the manager said.

We did.

There are houses, buildings, and the like, that are still standing and being renovated for guests. Brent has an eye that Cerro Gordo will become a great destination for those willing to drive up a very narrow and often nerve whacking dirt road to see what a real ghost town was like.


Remains of a cart rail

I did ask the manager if there is any mining still going on.

“No, we explore them, but there is no active searching for minerals at this time.”

From some research, I discovered that Samuel Clemons – Mark Twain - actually spent some time in Cerro Gordo. He happened to be residing in Aurora, another small mining town to the east in the state of Nevada, and spent time in both places.

“I’m not sure which town I like best,” the master of words might have mused. “I think Aurora. It doesn’t get those dastardly easterly winds.”

But, during the winter, temperatures in Cerro Gordo can drop to a chilling ten or more degrees below freezing and receive somewhere around twenty-four inches of snow. And that’s not including the wind chill factor which can be drop the thermometer at least a hundred degrees, or so it feels.

That is cold in anyone’s world – unless you are filming in the Yukon which can drop to more than a million degrees below zero.

Paul and I wandered the ghost town, and it really is a place to visit. Residential houses are being re-done, but only to the time period they were built. Buildings are being shored up, and the whole town will soon be a location for those who want to spend a night or more in the past, in a very secluded but beautiful spot across form the Sierra Nevada’s.

Future Airbnb?

“What’s the draw?” I asked the manager.

“To visit, and experience what I see every day.”

“And that is…?”

He smiled and pointed west. “The sunset over the Sierras. I’ve never seen anything like that, and I’ve been here a year. Each day is like the first.”

Looking past his outstretched hand, I had to agree. The location of Cerro Gordo is gorgeous, but the drive is not for the faint of heart.

Weighing beauty versus safety, I sighed deeply and we got down the road before the sun dropped below the range to our west.