Shakespeare New Mexico

Tucked into the sun-scorched badlands of Hidalgo County in southwestern New Mexico, just 2.5 miles southwest of the modern town of Lordsburg, lies Shakespeare—a quintessential Old West ghost town that has worn more names than most settlements dare: Mexican Springs, Grant, Ralston City, and finally Shakespeare. Born from a vital spring in an arid landscape frequented by Apache bands, it evolved into a stagecoach stop, a fleeting silver boomtown, a haven for outlaws, and ultimately a preserved relic of the frontier era. Unlike many romanticized ghost towns rebuilt for tourism, Shakespeare remains remarkably authentic, its adobe and timber structures standing much as they did over a century ago, privately owned and deliberately shielded from commercialization. Designated a National Historic Site in 1970 and listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1973, it whispers tales of lynching, diamond hoaxes, and notorious gunslingers amid the creosote and yucca.

GRANT HOUSE AND SALOON FROM SE Copy photograph of photogrammetric plate LC-HABS-GS05-B-1976-1001R. - Town of Shakespeare, Lordsburg, Hidalgo County, NM
GRANT HOUSE AND SALOON FROM SE Copy photograph of photogrammetric plate LC-HABS-GS05-B-1976-1001R. – Town of Shakespeare, Lordsburg, Hidalgo County, NM

Origins as a Watering Hole and Stage Stop (1850s–1860s)

The story of Shakespeare begins not with mines but with water—a rare spring in the Pyramid Mountains that drew travelers along the perilous southern route to California. Known first as Mexican Springs, it served as a relay station for the San Antonio–San Diego Mail Line (1857) and later the Butterfield Overland Mail stagecoach route, where teams of horses were swapped and passengers grabbed hasty meals amid the threat of Apache raids. After the Civil War, the site briefly became Grant, honoring General Ulysses S. Grant, but it remained little more than a lonely outpost in the vast Chihuahuan Desert landscape.

The Silver Rush and Ralston City (1870–1879)

Fortune struck in 1870 when prospectors uncovered rich silver-chloride ore in the surrounding hills. Seeking backing from San Francisco banker William Chapman Ralston (founder of the Bank of California), the fledgling camp exploded into Ralston City. By 1871, the population soared to around 3,000—a polyglot mix of miners, merchants, gamblers, and saloon keepers. Assays promised riches, but the boom was tainted by one of the Old West’s most audacious swindles: the Great Diamond Hoax of 1872. Con men salted a nearby peak with uncut diamonds (and later rubies), duping investors—including Ralston himself—into pouring money into worthless claims before geologist Clarence King exposed the fraud. The scandal crippled confidence, and by 1874 Ralston City was nearly deserted, its high-grade ore played out and its dreams shattered.

Rebirth as Shakespeare and Wild West Notoriety (1879–1893)

In 1879, English mining engineer Colonel William G. Boyle purchased most of the abandoned claims, breathing new life into the town. Seeking a dignified image to attract respectable investors, Boyle renamed it Shakespeare, dubbing the main street “Avon Avenue” and the hotel the “Stratford.” A second, more stable boom followed, with the Shakespeare Gold and Silver Mining Company extracting ore and the town sustaining saloons, stores, a meat market, blacksmiths, and the grand Stratford Hotel. Yet Shakespeare earned a rough reputation: no church, no school, no newspaper, and virtually no formal law. Justice was swift and citizen-enforced—”if you killed a man, you had to dig the grave.”

The town became a hangout for the San Simon Valley cowboys, including Curly Bill Brocius, John Ringo, and members of the Clanton gang. Legends persist that a teenage Billy the Kid once washed dishes at the Stratford Hotel. The most infamous incident occurred on November 9, 1881, when cattle rustlers “Russian Bill” Tattenbaum (a self-proclaimed nobleman) and Sandy King were captured by gunfighter “Dangerous Dan” Tucker and lynched from the rafters of the Grant House dining room. Their bodies dangled for days as a grim warning.

Decline and Sporadic Revivals (1893–1930s)

The Silver Panic of 1893 shuttered the mines, and when the railroad arrived in the early 1880s, it bypassed Shakespeare by three miles in favor of Lordsburg, sealing its fate as businesses and residents fled. By the early 1900s, it was a true ghost town. Brief flickers of life returned: in 1907–1909, miners from the nearby Eighty-Five copper mine rented buildings, and in the 1910s a spur railroad line briefly revived activity. But the Great Depression extinguished the last sparks, leaving crumbling adobes to the wind.

Preservation by the Hill Family (1935–Present)

In 1935, Frank and Rita Hill, enamored with the Southwest, purchased the derelict town and surrounding ranchland to raise cattle and horses. They restored buildings modestly, living in the old merchandise store. Rita, along with early resident Emma Marble Muir (who arrived as a child in the 1880s) and later their daughter Janaloo Hill Hough, became passionate historians, documenting stories and offering occasional tours. After a devastating 1997 fire, Janaloo and her husband Manny Hough rebuilt faithfully. The family—now into subsequent generations—has fiercely guarded Shakespeare’s authenticity, refusing to “Disneyfy” it.

Current Status

Shakespeare remains privately owned by descendants of the Hill family, operating as part of a working ranch and one of New Mexico’s most genuine ghost towns. It is not freely accessible; visitors must take guided tours to protect the fragile structures and prevent vandalism. As of late 2025, the town is open daily from 10:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. Mountain Time, with scheduled tours at 10:00 a.m., noon, and 3:00 p.m. (call ahead to confirm guide availability). Admission is $15 for adults, $7 for children 6–12 (with a $30 minimum plus tax). Private tours can be arranged by calling (575) 542-9034 or from the gate.

Key surviving structures include the Stratford Hotel, Grant House (with its infamous dining room beams), general store, assay office, blacksmith shop, and cemetery. Living history re-enactments—featuring gunfights, period costumes, and Old West demonstrations—occur several times a year, often on the fourth weekends of April, June, August, and October. The site is praised for its knowledgeable guides (often family members or locals like Apache storyteller Joe) who bring the rough-and-tumble past vividly to life.

Located off I-10 at Exit 22 in Lordsburg, follow Main Street south, then signs along NM-494 (a short dirt road) to the gated entrance. No amenities are available on-site—bring water, sunscreen, and sturdy shoes. Shakespeare endures not as a commercial spectacle but as a raw, evocative portal to the real Old West, where the echoes of outlaws and miners still linger in the desert silence. For the latest tour details, contact the owners directly or visit shakespeareghostown.com.

Death Valley Junction

Death Valley Junction, often still referred to by its original name Amargosa (Spanish for “bitter,” referencing the local water sources), is a remote, unincorporated community in eastern Inyo County, California, within the Mojave Desert’s Amargosa Valley. Situated at the crossroads of State Route 190 and State Route 127, it lies just east of Death Valley National Park, approximately 30 miles from the park’s Furnace Creek area and near the Nevada border. At an elevation of about 2,041 feet (622 meters), the site has long served as a desolate yet strategic junction in one of the harshest environments on Earth, where summer temperatures routinely exceed 120°F (49°C) and rainfall is scarce. This isolated outpost, now home to fewer than four permanent residents, embodies the boom-and-bust cycles of desert mining towns while owing its enduring cultural significance to an unlikely artistic revival.

Anargosa Hotel, Death Valley Junction, California - 1935
Anargosa Hotel, Death Valley Junction, California – 1935

Early History and Indigenous Roots

The area around Death Valley Junction has been traversed for millennia. Indigenous peoples, including the Timbisha Shoshone, used the crossroads for travel and trade routes across the Amargosa Valley. European-American exploration intensified during the California Gold Rush era, when the infamous Death Valley ’49ers—lost prospectors seeking a shortcut to the gold fields—passed through nearby, lending the region its ominous name. Ranchers, farmers, and settlers followed in the late 19th century, drawn by sparse water sources and grazing lands. Originally known simply as Amargosa, the settlement gained a post office in the early 20th century, but it remained a minor stop until the discovery of valuable mineral resources transformed it.

The Borax Boom and Railroad Era (1900s–1930s)

The community’s modern history began in earnest with the borax mining boom. In 1907, the name was officially changed to Death Valley Junction to capitalize on its proximity to emerging mining operations. The Pacific Coast Borax Company (famous for its 20-mule team wagons) played a pivotal role. In 1914, the company established the narrow-gauge Death Valley Railroad, linking the boron-rich mines at Ryan (near present-day Death Valley) to Death Valley Junction, where ore was transferred to the Tonopah and Tidewater Railroad for shipment southward.

From 1923 to 1925, the company invested heavily in infrastructure, constructing a planned company town in the Spanish Colonial Revival style. Designed by Los Angeles architect Alexander Hamilton McCulloch, the development included employee housing, offices, a hotel (originally for visitors and staff), and a community hall called Corkill Hall. At its peak in the 1920s, the town supported around 300–350 residents, with amenities like a school, stores, and social events. Borax, used in detergents, glass, and cosmetics, fueled prosperity until operations shifted. The Death Valley Railroad ceased borax transport in 1928, and full rail service ended by the 1940s as mining declined and synthetic alternatives emerged. By the 1950s, Death Valley Junction had largely become a ghost town, its adobe buildings crumbling under the relentless desert sun.

Revival Through Art: Marta Becket and the Amargosa Opera House (1960s–2010s)

The town’s improbable second life began in 1967 when New York dancer, painter, and performer Marta Becket (1924–2017) and her husband experienced a flat tire while camping nearby. Wandering into the abandoned Corkill Hall—part of the old borax company complex—Becket envisioned it as a theater. She rented the space (initially for $45 a month) and transformed the derelict hall into the Amargosa Opera House.

The Arargosa Opera House is located in Death Valley Junction, California.
The Arargosa Opera House is located in Death Valley Junction, California.

Over decades, Becket meticulously restored the venue, painting elaborate murals on the walls and ceiling depicting a perpetual Renaissance-era audience (complete with nobles, nuns, and jesters) so she would “never perform to an empty house.” She began solo dance, mime, and one-woman shows in 1968, often to sparse crowds—or none at all—in the early years. Word spread, drawing curious tourists en route to Death Valley. Becket performed nearly every weekend until her retirement in 2012 at age 87, her final show marking over 40 years on stage.

In the 1970s–1980s, Becket expanded her vision: completing murals throughout the adjacent hotel, establishing the nonprofit Amargosa Opera House, Inc., and purchasing much of the town with donor support. In 1980, Death Valley Junction was designated a National Register of Historic Places district, preserving 26 structures as remnants of early 20th-century borax-era architecture. The site gained further fame through documentaries, books (including Becket’s autobiography To Dance on Sands), and appearances in films.

D V R R tracks near Death Valley Junction, California
D V R R tracks near Death Valley Junction, California

Current Status

Today, Death Valley Junction remains one of California’s most evocative near-ghost towns, with a permanent population of fewer than four people. The entire historic district is owned and managed by the nonprofit Amargosa Opera House, Inc., ensuring preservation of Marta Becket’s legacy following her death in 2017.

  • Amargosa Opera House and Hotel: The centerpiece remains operational as a cultural oasis. The 23-room hotel (with basic, atmospheric accommodations featuring Becket’s murals) welcomes overnight guests year-round. Self-guided or staff-led tours of the opera house showcase the hand-painted murals and stage. Performances continue sporadically, including tribute shows, live music, theater, and special events like anniversary celebrations on or near February 10 (marking Becket’s 1968 debut). Tours resumed on November 2, 2025, after temporary closures.
  • Challenges and Recent Developments: The site has faced ongoing environmental threats, including flash floods from monsoon storms that damaged the opera house floor, hotel rooms, and adobe structures in recent years (notably exacerbated by events like Hurricane Hilary in 2023). Fundraising efforts focus on repairs, roof work, flood mitigation, utilities, and insurance. The former Amargosa Cafe is no longer consistently open, and there are no gas stations, stores, or other services—visitors must fuel up in nearby Pahrump, Nevada, or Shoshone, California.
  • Tourism and Appeal: As a gateway to Death Valley National Park (which saw record visitation in recent years), the junction attracts road-trippers, history buffs, and art enthusiasts seeking offbeat Americana. The stark contrast of a vibrant, mural-filled theater amid derelict borax ruins creates a surreal, haunting atmosphere—often described as “eccentric” or “otherworldly.” It has appeared in media as a symbol of desert resilience and quirky individualism.

Death Valley Junction stands as a testament to human ingenuity amid isolation: from industrial borax hub to abandoned relic, reborn through one woman’s artistic defiance. Though fragile and remote, it endures as a preserved slice of California’s desert heritage, inviting visitors to experience its quiet drama under vast, starlit skies.

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Ryan California – Inyo County Ghosttown

Perched precariously on the steep eastern flanks of the Amargosa Range at an elevation of 3,045 feet (928 meters), Ryan, California—once a thriving borax mining outpost—clings to the rugged edge of Death Valley National Park like a faded photograph from the early 20th century. This unincorporated community in Inyo County, just 8 miles northeast of Dante’s View and 15 miles southeast of Furnace Creek, embodies the stark contrasts of the American desert frontier: blistering heat by day, bone-chilling nights, and the relentless pursuit of mineral wealth amid isolation. Founded as a company town by the Pacific Coast Borax Company in 1914, Ryan served as the nerve center for extracting the “white gold” of the Mojave, fueling industries from glassmaking to detergents. Today, as a meticulously preserved ghost town under private stewardship, it offers a rare, unvarnished glimpse into the lives of borax miners and the pivot to tourism that briefly extended its lifespan. Though closed to casual visitors, Ryan’s 2025 designation on the National Register of Historic Places underscores its enduring significance as a cultural relic of industrial ambition and human resilience in one of North America’s harshest landscapes.

Postcard showing a panoramic view of Ryan, a mining camp in the Death Valley, California, ca.1920 - Photo Credit “University of Southern California. Libraries” and “California Historical Society” as the source. Digitally reproduced by the USC Digital Library.
Postcard showing a panoramic view of Ryan, a mining camp in the Death Valley, California, ca.1920 – Photo Credit “University of Southern California. Libraries” and “California Historical Society” as the source. Digitally reproduced by the USC Digital Library.

Early Prospecting and Settlement (1880s–1913)

The saga of Ryan unfolds against the backdrop of Death Valley’s borax boom, a chapter in the broader narrative of California’s mineral rushes that followed the silver frenzies of the Comstock Lode. Borax, a sodium borate compound essential for soap, ceramics, and fireproofing, was first discovered in the region in 1872 near Furnace Creek. By 1882, prospector Isadore Daixel had staked claims in the Funeral Mountains, identifying rich deposits of colemanite—a hydrated calcium borate—at what would become the Lila C Mine. Named after Lila C. Coleman, daughter of borax magnate William Tell Coleman, the Lila C site emerged as a modest camp by the early 1900s, drawing hardy laborers to its sun-scorched slopes where temperatures routinely exceeded 120°F (49°C) and water was hauled in by mule teams.

In 1907, the Pacific Coast Borax Company (PCB), under the visionary leadership of figures like Stephen Mather (later the first director of the National Park Service), formalized operations. A post office opened that year at Lila C, marking the camp’s transition from tent city to semblance of permanence. Miners, a mix of American, Mexican, and European immigrants, toiled in hand-dug adits, extracting colemanite via shallow pits and rudimentary ore chutes. The air hummed with the clatter of picks and the lowing of burros, while sagebrush-dotted arroyos carried faint echoes of multilingual banter around campfires fueled by creosote branches. Yet, the site’s remoteness—over 100 miles from the nearest railhead at Ludlow—hampered efficiency, prompting PCB to envision a more ambitious hub.

Boomtown Ascendancy and Industrial Might (1914–1927)

The year 1914 heralded Ryan’s explosive rebirth. To streamline logistics, PCB relocated operations 11 miles northwest of Lila C, constructing a new camp initially dubbed “Devar” (an acronym for Death Valley Railroad, later mangled to “Devair” on maps). Renamed Ryan in tribute to John Ryan (1849–1918), the company’s steadfast general manager who oversaw its expansion from San Francisco’s borax refineries to the Mojave’s veins, the site burgeoned into a model company town. By 1916, it boasted 54 buildings: bunkhouses for 300 workers, a two-story hospital with steam heat, a schoolhouse for the children of miners, a post office-cum-general store stocked with canned goods and patent medicines, assay offices, machine shops, and a recreation hall—originally a church shipped intact from the ghost town of Rhyolite, Nevada, in 1919.

At its core pulsed the mining infrastructure: the Lila C Mine, joined by the Jumbo, Biddy, and Widow complexes, yielded thousands of tons of colemanite annually, processed via a web of aerial tramways that whisked ore 1,000 feet down the canyon to loading platforms. The “Baby Gauge,” a narrow-gauge mine railroad snaking south from Ryan, shuttled loaded skips, while the full Death Valley Railroad—PCB’s 3-foot-gauge marvel—linked Ryan to the borax works at Death Valley Junction 20 miles east, ferrying passengers and freight through tunnel-pocked canyons. Electricity from a hydroelectric plant at Navel Spring illuminated the nights, refrigeration preserved perishables, and a tennis court hinted at leisure amid the grind. Population swelled to around 2,000 at peak, a polyglot mosaic where Cornish pumpmen rubbed shoulders with Mexican muleteers, all sustained by PCB’s paternalistic ethos of fair wages, medical care, and communal suppers under star-pricked skies. Ryan’s streets, graded dirt ribbons flanked by adobe and frame structures, thrummed with the rhythm of shift changes, the whistle of locomotives, and the distant rumble of ore cars—a desert symphony of progress.

Photograph of the "Baby Gauge" (aka "Baby Gage") mine train at the mining camp of Ryan, Death Valley, ca.1900-1950. A car with one headlight can be seen at center on tracks pulling a platform with four benches upon it. Someone can be seen driving the car, while four men and women sit on the benches. A small wooden shack with a portion of the roof missing can be seen behind the platform, while a ladder, wooden planks, and more tracks are visible at left. A valley and mountains can be seen in the background. - “University of Southern California. Libraries” and “California Historical Society” as the source. Digitally reproduced by the USC Digital Library.
Photograph of the “Baby Gauge” (aka “Baby Gage”) mine train at the mining camp of Ryan, Death Valley, ca.1900-1950. A car with one headlight can be seen at center on tracks pulling a platform with four benches upon it. Someone can be seen driving the car, while four men and women sit on the benches. A small wooden shack with a portion of the roof missing can be seen behind the platform, while a ladder, wooden planks, and more tracks are visible at left. A valley and mountains can be seen in the background. – “University of Southern California. Libraries” and “California Historical Society” as the source. Digitally reproduced by the USC Digital Library.

Decline and Reinvention (1928–1950s)

As with many Mojave outposts, Ryan’s fortunes waned with depleting veins and shifting markets. By 1927, high-grade colemanite reserves dwindled, and PCB shuttered the mines in 1928, idling the tramways and silencing the Baby Gauge. Undeterred, the company pivoted to tourism, rebranding Ryan as the Death Valley View Hotel in 1927—a plush resort with 20 guest rooms, a dining hall, and scenic overlooks drawing Hollywood elites and Eastern sightseers via the Tonopah & Tidewater Railroad. The Death Valley Railroad extended its life, offering excursion trains into the ghost mines until its decommissioning in 1930 amid the Great Depression’s grip.

The hotel limped on as overflow lodging for Furnace Creek’s inns through the 1940s, hosting episodes of Death Valley Days radio broadcasts and even serving as a Cold War fallout shelter in the 1950s. Yet, by the mid-1950s, patronage faded, leaving Ryan in caretaker status: a skeletal ensemble of weathered bunkhouses and rusting rail sidings, patrolled by lone watchmen amid encroaching creosote and jackrabbits. The 1933 creation of Death Valley National Monument (upgraded to national park in 1994) encircled but spared the private enclave, preserving its isolation.

Current Status (As of November 2025)

In a twist of serendipitous stewardship, Ryan’s nadir became its salvation. After decades under U.S. Borax (formed by PCB’s 1956 merger) and subsequent owner Rio Tinto (acquired 1967), the site was donated to the newly formed Death Valley Conservancy (DVC) on May 6, 2013—complete with 640 acres, 22 buildings, 16 archaeological sites, and mineral rights, bolstered by endowments for upkeep. This act, championed by Rio Tinto’s Preston Chiaro and spurred by National Park Service overtures since 2005, averted decay and positioned Ryan as a living laboratory for preservation.

Today, Ryan stands as one of the West’s best-preserved mining camps, its adobe walls and timber frames stabilized per the Secretary of the Interior’s standards. The Ryan Rec Hall’s multi-year restoration, ongoing since 2019, exemplifies efforts to blend education with conservation, supporting research in archaeology, industrial history, and desert ecology. The Ryan Historic District—encompassing rail remnants, mine complexes, and trails—was nominated in 2024 and listed on the National Register of Historic Places on January 27, 2025, honoring its multifaceted legacy from borax extraction to mid-century media outpost.

Public access remains tightly controlled for safety—unstable shafts and seismic risks abound—with no roads or services on-site. Visitors must enter a lottery for guided tours via the DVC website, typically limited to small groups exploring the schoolhouse’s chalk-scarred blackboards or the hotel’s faded lobby. Recent 2025 initiatives include enhanced water harvesting at Navel Spring and interpretive signage, while social media whispers of drone-captured sunsets over the bunkhouses fuel #DeathValleyGhostTown fervor. Amid Death Valley’s 2025 tourism surge—bolstered by cooler monsoons—Ryan endures not as a relic, but a resilient echo: where the wind through abandoned tram towers carries the ghosts of gandy dancers and the promise of rediscovery for those who draw the tour ticket. For bookings and updates, consult the Death Valley Conservancy at dvconservancy.org.

Town Summary

NameRyan California
Also Known AsColemanite,
Devair,
New Ryan
LocationDeath Valley National Park, San Bernardino County, California
Latitude, Longitude36.3213, -116.6697
Elevation928 meters / 3045 feet
GNIS1661348

Ryan Town Map

References

Hart California – San Bernardino County Ghosttown

Hart, California, was a fleeting gold mining settlement in the remote northeastern corner of San Bernardino County, nestled in the Mojave Desert on the northeastern edge of Lanfair Valley, near the New York Mountains and close to the Nevada border. Today, the site lies within the boundaries of Castle Mountains National Monument, a protected area proclaimed in 2016 to preserve its unique desert landscape, biodiversity, and historical resources. The town, often referred to simply as Hart (or sometimes associated with the broader Hart Mining District, also known as the Castle Mountain District), exemplifies the classic “boom-and-bust” cycle of early 20th-century desert mining communities in Southern California.

View of Hart, California in 1908, looking northwest
View of Hart, California in 1908, looking northwest

Discovery and Boom (1907–1909)

The story of Hart began in December 1907, when prospectors Jim Hart (after whom the town was named) and brothers Bert and Clark Hitt discovered rich gold deposits in the rugged Castle Mountains. News of the strike spread rapidly during the waning years of the California Gold Rush era’s tail end, attracting hundreds of fortune-seekers to this isolated region. By early 1908, a tent camp had sprung up around the original claim, quickly evolving into a structured townsite.

The settlement grew explosively. Within months, Hart boasted a population that swelled to around 1,500 residents at its peak in the summer of 1908. Infrastructure developed hastily to support the influx: a post office opened, a weekly newspaper called the Enterprise was published (1908–1909), telephone and telegraph lines connected the town to nearby Barnwell, and a water pipeline was laid. The nearest railroad siding was at Hitt, about 3.5 miles away, facilitating supplies and ore transport.

Hart’s commercial district reflected the rowdy, opportunistic spirit of mining camps. Amenities included:

  • Hotels such as the Norton House, Martin House, and the cheaper Star rooming house (a flophouse for transient workers).
  • Two general stores (one being Hart-Gosney), a bakery, candy store, real-estate office, book and cigar store, and two lumberyards.
  • Eight saloons with colorful names like Hart and Hitt, Arlington Club, Honest John, Oro Belle, and Northern Bar.
  • A brothel, a miners’ union hall, and even a voting precinct and justice-court township.

The primary mines driving this prosperity were the Oro Belle (the original Hart-Hitt claim, sold in 1908 for $100,000 to the Oro Belle Mining Company of Duluth, Minnesota) and the Big Chief (formerly Jumbo), both operated by interests tied to the Hart brothers. A 10-stamp mill was constructed at the Big Chief to process ore. High-grade gold pockets yielded impressive early returns, fueling speculation and drawing investors.

The Northern Club, downtown Hart, California in 1908
The Northern Club, downtown Hart, California in 1908

Decline and Abandonment (1909–1918)

Despite the initial frenzy, Hart’s riches proved illusory. The gold deposits were in small, erratic pockets within silicified breccia zones hosted in Tertiary-age rhyolite and tuff, rather than large, consistent veins. By late 1909, production plummeted as easily accessible high-grade ore was exhausted. Most surrounding claims followed suit, yielding little profit. The Oro Belle Mine, the town’s flagship operation, never turned a substantial profit and ceased major activity around 1915, with final shutdown in 1918.

As mines closed, residents departed en masse for more promising strikes elsewhere. By the mid-1910s, Hart was largely deserted, joining the ranks of California’s many ghost towns. The post office closed, businesses shuttered, and structures fell into disrepair amid the harsh desert environment.

Current Status

Today, Hart is a true ghost town with no permanent inhabitants or active structures from its boom era. The townsite itself has been heavily impacted by later mining: in the 1990s, the area hosted the modern open-pit Castle Mountain Mine (operated by Viceroy Resources), a large-scale heap-leach gold operation that disturbed much of the historic footprint. Remnants of the original town—foundations, scattered artifacts, and mine workings—are faint or overwritten.

The entire area, including the Hart townsite and Castle Mountains, was incorporated into Castle Mountains National Monument in 2016, managed by the National Park Service within the Mojave National Preserve ecosystem. Access is limited to dirt roads (such as Hart Mine Road), requiring high-clearance vehicles, and the monument emphasizes preservation of natural and cultural resources. A historical marker, erected in 1984 by E Clampus Vitus chapters and the Bureau of Land Management, stands near the site (coordinates approximately 35°17.047’N, 115°6.883’W), commemorating the 1907 discovery and the town’s brief existence.

Visitors occasionally explore the remote area for off-roading, hiking, or historical interest, but it remains desolate—windswept desert terrain dotted with Joshua trees, creosote bushes, and distant views toward Nevada. No commercial facilities exist nearby (the closest services are in Nipton or Searchlight, Nevada). The monument’s protected status prohibits new mining or development, ensuring Hart’s legacy as a quiet relic of California’s gold-seeking past endures in one of the most isolated corners of San Bernardino County.

Ghost Town Summary

NameHart, California
LocationSan Bernardino County, California
Latitude, Longitude35.2888, -115.1033
Elevation1393 meters / 4570 feet
Population
GNIS1660728

Hart Ghost Map

References

Cerbat Arizona – Mohave County Ghost Town

Cerbat is a historic mining camp and former town located in the Cerbat Mountains of Mohave County, northwestern Arizona, approximately 9-15 miles northwest of present-day Kingman. Nestled in a rugged canyon west of the main Cerbat Mountain range, the site sits at an elevation of around 4,580 feet. The name “Cerbat” derives from a Native American term meaning “Big Horn mountain sheep,” reflecting the wildlife once abundant in the area.

The town’s origins trace back to the late 1860s, when prospectors discovered rich deposits of gold and silver in the Cerbat Mountains. Following initial finds, mining camps quickly emerged, with Cerbat established around key claims including the Esmeralda, Golden Gem, Vanderbilt, Idaho, Flores, Night Hawk, and Big Bethel mines. By 1870-1871, a small settlement had formed, supported by a mill, smelter, stores, saloons, a school, a post office (opened December 23, 1872), and professional services such as a doctor’s office and a lawyer’s office. Cabins housed over 100 residents at its peak, making it a modest but prosperous frontier community isolated in the harsh desert terrain.

Cerbat Arizona in 1870
Cerbat Arizona in 1870

Boom Period and Significance (1870s-1880s)

Cerbat’s early growth was fueled by the broader mining boom in Mohave County, which began with gold discoveries along the Colorado River in the 1860s. Prospectors often arrived via steamboat to Hardyville (now part of Bullhead City), then trekked inland 38 miles to the Cerbat area. The town’s remote location necessitated infrastructure improvements: in 1872, a $6,000 dirt road was constructed over the mountains to connect Cerbat to eastern settlements like Fort Rock, Camp Hualapai, Williamson Valley, and Prescott.

In 1871, Cerbat briefly achieved prominence as the third county seat of Mohave County, building the county’s first permanent court house. However, it lost this status in 1873 (some sources cite 1877) to the nearby rival mining town of Mineral Park. Despite this, Cerbat remained active, with stage lines like the California and Arizona Stage Company providing weekly service in the 1880s, linking it to Mineral Park, Chloride, Prescott, and Hardyville via toll roads.

The surrounding Wallapai Mining District (encompassing Cerbat, Chloride, Mineral Park, and Stockton Hill) produced significant gold, silver, lead, zinc, and later turquoise. Cerbat’s mines contributed substantially, with the Golden Gem alone yielding around $400,000 in precious metals between 1871 and 1907.

Life in Cerbat reflected the turbulent Old West: conflicts with local Hualapai and other Native American groups led to miner deaths, while internal violence included murders, suicides, and at least one legal hanging (carpenter Michael DeHay in 1876 for killing his wife). The town’s pioneer cemetery preserves graves reflecting these hardships, including victims of mining accidents, disease (e.g., tuberculosis), and insanity-related incidents.

Decline and Abandonment (Late 19th to Early 20th Century)

Cerbat’s prosperity waned as richer deposits were exhausted or eclipsed by nearby camps. The post office, a key indicator of viability, operated until June 15, 1912 (with a brief name change to “Campbell” from 1890-1902). By the early 20th century, residents drifted away, and the town faded into obscurity. Sporadic mining continued in the district into the 20th century, but Cerbat itself never recovered.

Current Status (as of November 2025)

Today, Cerbat is classified as a classic Arizona ghost town—uninhabited and abandoned, with no permanent residents. The site consists primarily of scattered ruins: faint stone foundations, crumbling walls, old mine shafts, tailings piles, and remnants of buildings overgrown by desert vegetation. A semi-modern warehouse and large steel safe from later eras remain, along with an active ranch at the canyon’s base. The pioneer cemetery is one of the better-preserved features, accessible for historical visits.

Access is via dirt roads off U.S. Highway 93 north of Kingman (near Milepost 62), requiring high-clearance or four-wheel-drive vehicles for the final stretches, especially after rain. The area falls within public lands managed in part by the Bureau of Land Management, and nearby modern mining operations (e.g., at Mineral Park) have altered parts of the landscape with large open pits.

Cerbat attracts ghost town enthusiasts, hikers, and off-road explorers seeking remnants of Arizona’s mining heritage. It is not commercialized like some sites (e.g., no tours or facilities), emphasizing its raw, desolate character. The broader Cerbat Mountains remain notable for wild Cerbat mustangs (a protected feral herd of possible Spanish descent) and ongoing mineral exploration, but the town itself stands as a silent testament to the boom-and-bust cycles of the American West.

Town Summary

NameCerbat
LocationMohave County, Arizona
Latitude, Longitude35.303413,-114.1380277
GNS24353
Elevation3,872 Feet
Population100
Post OfficeDecember 23, 1872 – June 15, 1912
Alternate NamesCampbell (June 25, 1890 to October 24 1902 )

Cerbat Trail Map

References