The Rebirth of the Ghost Town of Amboy

Welcome to Amboy, CA

According to Ken Large, Operations and Logistics Manager for Roy’s Motel and Cafe in Amboy, there are ongoing plans to rejuvenate this once prospering town into something for the future.

“When Albert passed away in 2023,” Ken said, “I wondered what would become of his dream of turning this once vibrant town into a go-to destination for those traveling along Route 66.”

Albert Okura, the founder of the popular restaurant chain Juan Pollo in Southern California, had purchased the nearly forgotten town of Amboy in 2005. Albert loved history, especially the history of Southern California and more importantly Route 66. When he purchased the town of Amboy, his wish was to do all he could to turn it back into the iconic spot where travelers from across the United States would stop along America’s Highway during its heyday.

The original sign is lit up nightly in Amboy, CA

He had big plans, but that was nothing unusual for this man who created a chain of cookeries which would later label him the Chicken Man for the delicious food served in his nearly 30 various locations.

Albert knew he could recreate the thrill of travelers along Route 66 that was once felt after the route was completed in 1926. Sadly, Albert passed away on January 27, 2023 at the young age of 72 in Ontario, California. 

But, his dream did not die. “His family have been wonderful in keeping Albert’s dreams alive here in Amboy,” Ken said. “Take a walk around and see for yourself all the construction being conducted to complete this place by the summer of 2026.”

That summer would be the 100th anniversary of the completion of Route 66, and there are huge plans being developed along that long river of asphalt stretching from Chicago all the way to Santa Monica.”

Rumor has it that a family of Sasquatches may attend the festivities somewhere along the nearly 2,500 mile highway - but of course, that is on a need-to-know-basis.

And, I need to know!

Before I started walking the property, Ken did inform me that finishing the entire project may be a bit of a stretch but “...knowing Albert’s family as I do, I think we may indeed have everything up and running for the huge crowds that will be coming through. They are an awesome group of folks and I am sure keeping Albert’s legacy alive will be in the forefront of their thoughts.”

I’ve been through Amboy more times than I can count - either heading east or heading west. Did I stop each time? No, but every time I passed by those stark white empty cabins, the large paned windowed reception area of the motel, and the gas station with its huge sign out front welcoming visitors, I felt a slight tug at my heart.

Road monument with unfished cabins in the rear at Amboy, CA

Amboy, once a bustling and hustling railroad stop for miners, travelers, shippers, receivers, and those that just wanted an adventure which then, as many such towns did, turned into a ghost town and was now being brought back to life, makes me smile.

The last time I visited and spoke with Ken, a large tour bus had just pulled up and about a million tourists exited. It was a very large custom made bus.

“We sometimes get up to three thousand people visiting a day,” he said. I just saw a million, so I suppose his math could be accurate, rounded off for the year.

As I was taking a snap of some of the construction going on, a tourist walked to me and in a very German accent and said he recognized me.

“Yes, I am John R. Beyer, the world-renowned travel writer,” I humbly responded.

“Nein,” he retorted. “You look like the restroom attendant. Paper is needed in stall three.”

I nodded and then mumbled, “You probably meant number two.”

Ken advised me that 50% of the visitors are European, 35% from the United States, 10% from South and Central America and the remainder from Asia or perhaps the territory of Nauru.

As I wandered here and there, teams of construction personnel were wiring this, harnessing that, and pretty much doing what construction personnel did. They were busy rebuilding Amboy into what Albert Okura had imagined.

New construction in the works in Amboy, CA

A town full of life which invited the tourist to stop for a spell for a rest, and perhaps a meal and then back onto the historic byway or Route 66.

In fact, in keeping to Albert’s plans, Ken explained that they hoped to have rooms ready to rent, a fully functioning restaurant, and other amenities which made staying in Amboy for more than a couple of hours a reality.

I asked about the family and their thoughts about Albert’s visions.

“I must say that Kyle, one of Albert’s children, comes here quite often and spends long weekends checking out how much work is getting done. Often, Mrs. Okura and other family members accompany him and they love it out here. They are a great and loving family.”

Years ago, my lovely wife Laureen, along with one of our daughters, Kelly, drove through Amboy and were delighted to see the site was being used as a Fly- In. Planes of all makes and models were actually landing along Route 66 and taxing to the small airport located there.

Music, food, and other entertainment were in abundance for all to share in.

Other events which are being coordinated by Ken, the other staff members, and the family are motorcycle rendezvous, classic car shows, airplane fly-ins, music festivals, space alien conventions, and the list goes on and on.

And gas is available at the original pumps

“We also are also a venue for those who want to rent the place out for movie shoots, television ads, music videos, weddings, and the like,” Ken stated.

Recently a Polish singer by the name of Daria Zawailaow utilized the town for a music video. It is spunky, riveting, and I have no idea what she is singing about - my Polish is rather limited except for some old and now inappropriate jokes.

The below link will show just one of the musical talents who visited Amboy and wanted to share with their audiences what an iconic place this little town is and why it is important to visit.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=CoMFkWwevjA

For more information: https://visitamboy.com/ 

John can be contacted at; beyersbyways@gmail.com

 

The Not so Ghost Town of Ransburg

Welcome to Randsburg, CA

Standing midway down Butte Ave, I believed I was in a new filming for the hundredth Mad Max series.

Run for your lives - nope, everything is safe

Dozens of RZRs, dune-buggies, dirt bikes, off road golf carts, and gyrocopters came screaming out of the northwest through this tiny burg.

Folks dressed head to toe in leathers, cottons, tree bark, and stretched out leggings barreling through this living ghost town one mile south of Highway 395 made a person pause.

There were mullets on helmets. Sideburns on helmets. Mohawks on helmets, and helmets on helmets.

It was surreal, but I did not stand in the middle of the road for long, not wanting to end up as roadkill, which was being served for lunch I was told at the local park. 

“It’s really good if it is fresh, with not too many tread marks,” a grizzled miner may have uttered.

I was in Randsburg, a supposed ghost town that seemed pretty alive.

“Fall, winter, and spring are our busiest times of year,” noted Neil, the owner of The Joint. “People love camping out in the desert nearby and then rolling in here for lunch and perhaps a cold beverage.”

Sort of funny, “rolling in here” by the owner of ‘The Joint.’ Just saying.

The Joint in Randsburg

Actually, in all transparency stopping by any saloon usually makes my day. It gets mighty thirsty on the road.

Interior view of The Joint in Randsburg, CA

I had traveled through Randsburg many times on my way here and there along Highway 395. It’s a quaint locale with friendly folks, an interesting history, and clean free public restrooms in the town’s city park.

A must for a traveler.

The definition of a ghost town, according to Dictionary.com, is a town that was once thriving  that has been completely abandoned. According to Geotab.com a ghost town was once a thriving community that has dwindled over the decades. According to Oregon.gov, ghost towns are abandoned villages or cities, often with substantial visible remains.

Well, that last one could mean a whole lot of towns and cities now in California.

“You know, Neil,” I said. “You live in a ghost town according to what I’ve read.”

He just looked at me and wandered back into The Joint.

I should have stuck with the one definition I knew had to be accurate from theydon’tknowwhattheyaretalkingabout.com which stated that a ghost town is what people call places they have not traveled to.

Downtown Randsburg

Randsburg is not a ghost town. Sure, there are ghosts, according to the paranormal folks, locals, and a few miners who told me they have shared bottles of whiskey with the ghosts - okay, but it is not a ghost town in any sense of common sense.

Prior to Neil abandoning me in the street, he did state there is a ghost of a miner that sits atop the roof of The Joint. The ghost is supposedly a disgruntled ex-customer who was told eons ago that he was no longer welcome due to his bad behavior. I glanced up to ensure no wily bearded miner was lingering atop the building and dashed inside in case I may end up with a dropped pickaxe on my noggin.

No, this tiny town 68 miles northwest of Victorville and 138 miles northeast of  Los Angeles has a lot of life to it and a wonderfully interesting history.

Randsburg is known as one of the small towns within the gold and silver mining belt of Kern County.

 Randsburg, as well as Red Mountain and Johannesburg - other so-called ghost towns, that were once hustling and bustling jurisdictions where gold and silver could just be picked off the desert floor.

“Looky, Maxwell,” a dandy of a miner may have shouted after picking up a three ton solid gold nugget. “I be rich!”

That is not true. 

Community church in Randsburg, CA

Randsburg is located in the Rand Mining District, named after the Rand Mountains where it is located along with Red Mountain and Johannesburg.

According to the Los Angeles Daily News, three down-and-out miners wandered the Rand Mountains in 1895 and stumbled across a huge gold bonanza southwest of Ridgecrest - later to become Randsburg.

The miners who had been down-and-out were Frederic Mooers, John Singleton, and Charles Burcham and rumor has it that Frederic smiled at his two buddies and said, “Guess we are no longer down-and-outers.”

Where Singleton may have replied, “I can’t wait to see the face on my mother-in-law now.”

But with all history things can become a bit wonky. According to other research it was actually Frederic Mooers and William Langdon who actually found solid traces of gold in the Rand Mountains  in 1894. It was in 1895 that Singleton and Burcham were brought into the partnership, along with Dr Rose. 

Whatever be the case, the Rand Mining District was created in December of 1895 and a gold rush began. Some reports state that it was one of, if not, the largest gold rushes in California history with the Yellow Aster mine being the centerpoint of gold discovery.

Starting with just a few folks mining for riches soon turned into a boom and by 1896 more than 1,500 people were calling the area home.

Of course, where there is one mine, soon many more started opening up as more and more deposits were located. King Solomon, Jolly Girls, Monkey Wrench, Bully Boy, and Look What I Found were just some of the mines that soon opened.

By the end of 1897, folks were getting very rich working the various mines in the Rand Mining District, especially the Yellow Aster which produced more than $600,000 in gold, which is about $22,000,000 today.

Another rumor is that when Singleton’s mother-in-law heard the news, she simply said, “You call that money?”

One of the old mines located in Randsburg, CA

So much ore was coming out of the earth that it was hard to transport to various locations for processing; Garlock and Barstow. Shipping the ore over the newly built Randsburg Railways was slow due to the extent of the output, so a thirty-stamp mill was built in 1899 in Randsburg. Soon a much larger one hundred stamp mill was called for to handle all the ore being taken from the various mines in the area.

By 1901 the Yellow Aster mine was kicking out $120,000 worth of gold each month, well over four million dollars today. Silver was also being mined with huge profits from adjourning mines that covered the Rand Mountains.

Like all boom towns, it wasn’t just miners that got into action. Nope, plenty of saloons, gambling halls, and brothels showed up to ensure the miners did not walk away with all that cash in their pockets alone.

To save the souls of the now nearly 2,500 citizens of Randsburg in 1897, churches began to sprout up along the narrow and congested streets. Since some of the miners were married, as well as the shopkeepers, schools also were constructed.

It was a good time for all.

In 1898 two devastating fires erupted and nearly destroyed the entire town of Randsburg, but some quick thinking individuals used dynamite to blow up structures creating a break where the fire could not spread from block to block.

With the tough spirit of these pioneers, the town was rebuilt even better than before.

An interesting side note concerns neighboring Red Mountain, where numerous accounts state that during prohibition, folks all the way from Los Angeles would travel there during the weekends to partake in the over 30 saloons and brothels located in the area.

A tidbit here, Dr. Rose Burcham is not only considered one of the first pioneer female physicians in Southern California but in 1904, the Los Angeles Times honored her with, ‘Men of Achievement in The Great Southwest Mining’. - the only successful woman mine operator in the southwest.

A hardy and smart woman, she outlived her mining partners, dying in 1944 after retiring to the state of Alabama.

By 1934, with the depression and the ore not producing as much gold or silver as in the past, the town started to dry up. Folks moved on to the next boomtown but today Randsburg is still very much alive with shops, restaurants, saloons, and places to stay for the night.

The small town offers wonderful events throughout the year, including; Old West Day, Bluegrass Jamboree, Mohave Dirt Bike Rally, Don’t Fall Into An Empty Mineshaft Day, and so much more for the visitor. 

And if camping in the wide open desert isn’t your cup of Joe, then there are places to stay for the night in Randsburg, from the Cottage Hotel Bed and Breakfast, to numerous Airbnbs - some supposedly used as cribs utilized by the soiled doves in the day. May have to use the Old West Dictionary for that description.

Cottage Hotel, one of many places to stay at Randsburg, CA

Though I’ve traveled through Randsburg for years, I learn something new with each visit, and isn’t that the way adventures go?

Daniel, a bartender at the Joint, poured me a drink. “Are you coming back?”

I may be there already.

The Ghost Town of Bodie, truly worth the visit

 

John R Beyer - ready for some visiting

According to Ranger Jake, the ghost town of Bodie is truly haunted.

“Well, I’ve never had an encounter with any real ghosts or stuff like that,” he stated. “But, the state rangers who reside in the town itself says there are some really strange things that go on after dark.”

“With the staff, or the ghosts?” I asked.

Being a ranger, Ranger Jake didn’t see the humor in my question. “No, with things they cannot explain.”

Bodie, which is part of the California State Historic Park system, was known for all sorts of things in its heyday – a mining boomtown, violence, drinking, violence, gambling, violence, and more of the same.

A section of downtown Bodie

The state park is located about twenty miles south-east of the town of Bridgeport. It’s an easy drive, suitable for any vehicle. 

Just east of the tall and beautiful Sierra Nevada Mountain range, the drive to Bodie is beautiful any time of the year. Highway 395 is always a great route to take, and the thirteen mile easterly drive along Highway 270 to Bodie is paved all the way, excepting the last three miles. But, those three miles are hard packed making the journey relatively easy.

Except in winter, when a snowmobile or a bunch of Huskies dragging a sled should be the mode of travel. They get a lot of snow in this part of California.

In fact, one of the original discoverers of the gold in the area was W.S. Bodey, who perished in a fierce snowstorm in November of 1859, while bringing supplies back to the small mining camp from nearby Monoville to the west. 

His friends decided to name the town after him, but the name was misspelled when a sign painter in another mining town, Aurora, mistakenly painted ‘Bodie Stables’ over a horse stable. The spelling stuck.

Though gold had been discovered in Bodie in 1859, it was years before the settlement went from a few tough and stubborn miners to its boom years.

It wasn’t until 1876, that the Standard Company found a large and rich vein of gold-bearing ore. Almost overnight, the sleepy little town of Bodie suddenly found itself on the verge of becoming one of the largest towns in California.

With all that gold, there has to be a bank vault

By 1879, the population had soared to nearly ten thousand folks and two thousand buildings, which consisted of houses, saloons, hotels, meeting halls for the miners, fire stations, schools, and so much more that makes a town a town.

According to some research I did, Bodie, at its peak had 65 saloons just on Main Street, which was a mile long. That is a lot of places to wet one’s whistle, and all in walking distance.

But, as I stood overlooking what was left of Bodie, it didn’t seem that large. Sure, there were two to three streets with homes, businesses, a church, and a school, but not much more to hint that ten thousand people had resided here at one time.

 “You have to understand that Bodie, like many frontier towns experienced numerous fires,” Ranger Jake stated. “It was like a plague for these places built out of wood.”

In fact, so many fires occurred in this town that only five percent of the structures remain to this day. The last major fire was in 1932, which pretty much wiped out the downtown district of Bodie.

As I wandered through the town, I wondered how it would have been to live here during the great mining days. Bodie was a twenty-four/seven sort of town.

Nine large stamp mills crushed the ore dug up from the ground around the clock from the thirty mines located in the area. The echoes from the machinery must have been loud in this town built in a valley. The gold bullion was shipped to Carson City, Nevada and each shipment had to have armed guards since robbery was something Bodie had to deal with.

With mining booms, no matter where, lower social elements usually arrived to take advantage, and Bodie was no exception.

Robbery, gun fights, stabbings, opium dens, gambling halls, brothels, were an integral part of the life in Bodie. In this incident, integral is not to be misunderstood as something positive – nope, not positive but just a fact of life for the towns in the Wild West.

A horse drawn hearse, appropriate for Bodie

As with any mining district, there is the beginning and eventually the ending. Bodie saw the population start to dwindle starting in 1880 when other ‘promising’ booms were reported in places like Butte, Montana and Tombstone, Arizona.

With miners leaving, so did much of the rougher crowds which meant the remaining citizens of Bodie were families. In 1882, the Methodist Church was built, and still stands today. Then a Roman Catholic Church was built, followed by a school house, and more properties suited for a more genteel population.

The Methodist Church in Bodie

The ore was not good, but not bad either, and families were able to make a living in Bodie. With new technology in the 1890’s though, more ore could be found using a cyanide process, which allowed miners a chance to go through the old mill tailings and extract the gold and silver just lying there.

I’d explain the cyanide process, but I don’t want to sound too scientifically nerdy.

But, things eventually turned south for Bodie and according to the U.S. Federal Census of 1920, only one hundred and twenty people resided there. The post office officially closed in 1942, and by 1943 only three people were on hand to keep the town from being looted and vandalized.

In 1961, Bodie was designated a National Historic Landmark, and in 1962 it became the Bodie State Historic Park. With nearly one hundred and seventy buildings still standing, the town has become known as California’s official state gold rush ghost town.

It was early, being the first tourist there, I wanted the place for myself – the park closes at six p.m. during the summer, and though I had planned to spend the night there to see if any ghosts or goblins walked the streets, no overnight stays are allowed – unless you are one of the ranger residents.

As I wandered here and there through the dusty streets of Bodie, I could almost hear the mills thumping away in the nearby hills. The sounds of people laughing seemed to be floating along the slight breeze heading east along Main Street. 

Bodie is referred as in a state of arrested decay, which gives the illusion of people just getting up and leaving their abodes.

The houses, businesses, and the rest which remain today have heavy metal screens over the windows and doorways for good reason.

Looking in through those windows is such a strange sensation. Dinner tables with dishes, utensils, and drinking glasses set around empty chairs. In an accountant’s office, there are ledgers, ink pens and a pair of reading glasses on a desk. In the schoolhouse there are desks with text books resting on them as if the children are simply out for recess.

It's as though the family will be returning

      

A tailor shop, waiting for customers in Bodie

It is a haunting experience to walk the streets of Bodie.

Prior to the anti-theft measures put up by the state, visitors would often take ‘relics’ or ‘souvenirs’ with them when they left the town.

So much so, that the Bodie Curse was invented by a ranger at the park. Legend has it that if an article is taken from Bodie, then bad luck will surely be upon the thief and their family.

When news of this was made public, all sorts of things were mailed back to the park with notes such as: ‘Hey, didn’t mean to steal the shoes from the schoolhouse but now I have two noses.’

I met up with Ranger Jake during a tour of the Standard Mill, and after a great and interesting hour long tour, I asked him more about the paranormal sightings in the park.

“Like I said,” he stated. “I have never had experienced anything out of the ordinary but those rangers who live here say they see shadows going across doorways. Perhaps, voices where no one should be. It seems that in the evenings is when spirits, if there are any, tend to come out.”

According to some other ghostly research, there is a woman with a large basket in her hand, wearing a white hood and wearing a black and white dress, who comes out at midnight and walks a bit before vanishing. Another is a tall figure carrying a light who enters the mines and wanders there until dawn.

Just before the last folks left Bodie, a man murdered his wife and then three men killed him for the murder. Later, the killer returned and yelled at his killers – those three other men died of diseases shortly there-after. Now, these four seem to visit the town or the cemetery from time to time.

Is Bodie haunted? I don’t know, but walking those lonely streets with houses, businesses, and other establishments as though people just stood up and walked away, is creepy enough.

It’s as though, at any moment, a door will open and a family will descend onto the street wondering what activity may be awaiting them.

I didn’t see that happen, but in Bodie, it seems anything could.

A haunting view, east of downtown Bodie

Rhyolite - A Ghost Town that's not Forgotten

During the late spring of 2013 J of J and L along with photographer and friend Paul Bakas took a long drive into the valley of death.

The very name, Death Valley, conjures up images of people struggling through the vast desert east of the Panamint Range, with temperatures soaring during the summer upwards of one-hundred-twenty degrees. The hottest temperature on earth was actually recorded in Furnace Creek in Death Valley on July 1st, 1913 at a blistering one-hundred-thirty-four degrees. It was so warm that it was reported that birds fell out of the sky dead littering the ground.

Yikes - that is mighty hot!

We felt pretty cool and comfortable in the mere one-hundred-seven degree temperature as we tooled past Furnace Creek on our way north to the ghost town of Rhyolite which sits on the eastern edge of the Death Valley just inside the western border of Nevada.

Our destination was the once booming mining town with the Bullfrog Mining District which had its beginning on August 9th, 1904 when Frank "Shorty" Harris and Ernest "Ed" Cross discovered a rich gold deposit on the south side of a southwestern Nevada hill later to be named Bullfrog Mountain. The ore was so rich, $3,000 a ton which would be nearly $77,000 a ton today that thousands of hungry yellow metal seekers soon moved into the area looking for their fortunes.

By 1907 over 4,000 people called Rhyolite home which boasted concrete sidewalks, electric lights, water mains, telephone and telegraph services, a public swimming pool (a good idea in that heat), three banks, stock exchange, opera house, churches, as well as daily newspapers. A full police and fire department took care of any emergencies which may have occurred within the bustling and growing town in the middle of a vast and extremely brutal desert.

But as soon as the boom had boomed the fall came. With a major devastating earthquake in San Francisco in 1906 which diverted capital away from the mines to the south, disrupted railroad services and other financial concerns the town quickly started to slide into a depression. It also didn't help that the mines seemed to have been 'played' out by all those gold seekers.

In 1910 only 675 people still remained in the borders of Rhyolite and soon those too left for greener pastures and by 1922 the Los Angeles Times reported only one ninety-two year old man called the once prospering town his home.

Today there are only partial buildings to remind one of the what this old mining town must have looked like but with a little imagination it is easy to stand in the streets looking at the ghosts of the past. To truly see hundreds of citizens proudly walking up and down the sidewalks of their gem of a city in the middle of nowhere going about their daily activities.


J of J and L, rumored to have a vivid imagination, swore he saw a lovely couple dressed in their finest strolling near the ruin of the opera house hand in hand and smiling into each others eyes.

Perhaps it was only his imagination but then again, perhaps it was not.