Big Bear, CA
I quiet mountain community full of back country adventure.
Marta Becket
Marta Becket (August 9, 1924 – January 30, 2017) was an extraordinary American dancer, choreographer, painter, and performer whose life took a legendary turn in the remote desert of California. Best known for transforming an abandoned building in Death Valley Junction into the iconic Amargosa Opera House, she created a unique artistic oasis in one of the most isolated places in the United States, performing there for over four decades.
Here are some glimpses of the stunning Amargosa Opera House interior, where Becket hand-painted elaborate murals of a colorful, eternal audience—including Renaissance figures, clowns, monks, and even a nod to theater critics—watching her performances forever:
Early Life and Artistic Beginnings
Born Martha Becket in New York City’s Greenwich Village on August 9, 1924, she showed creative talent from a young age. She began studying ballet at 14—a relatively late start—encouraged by her supportive yet demanding mother. Despite the delay, her natural ability shone through. By her early twenties, she was dancing professionally with the corps de ballet at Radio City Music Hall and later appeared on Broadway in productions such as Showboat. Beyond dance, she excelled in painting, drawing, and piano, laying the foundation for her multifaceted career.
She later changed her name to Marta Becket and, in the early 1960s, began performing her own one-woman shows on regional tours. In 1962, she married her manager, Tom Williams, and the couple continued traveling across the western U.S., where she first fell in love with the vast desert landscapes.
The Fateful Flat Tire: Birth of the Amargosa Opera House
In March 1967, while on tour and heading to an engagement, Becket and her husband experienced a flat tire in the tiny, nearly abandoned town of Death Valley Junction (originally called Amargosa), near the eastern edge of Death Valley National Park. While the tire was repaired at the local gas station, Becket wandered across the street and peered through a hole in the door of Corkhill Hall, a dilapidated former community social hall built in the 1920s by the Pacific Coast Borax Company.
She later described the moment as mystical—the empty, rundown building seemed to speak to her: “Take me. Do something with me. I offer you life!” Enchanted by the potential, she rented the space for $45 a month (with a dollar down) and took full responsibility for repairs. The couple returned in August 1967 to begin renovations. She renamed it the Amargosa Opera House in homage to the town’s original name.
Here’s the iconic exterior of the Amargosa Opera House and Hotel complex in the remote desert landscape:
A Life of Dedication in the Desert
Becket staged her first performance on February 10, 1968, to an audience of just 12 people. Early years were challenging—she often performed for empty seats—but she persisted, creating her own choreography blending ballet, mime, and vaudeville. Over seven years, she painstakingly painted the theater’s walls and ceiling with vibrant murals depicting a permanent, whimsical audience.
In 1970, a National Geographic article brought national attention, and audiences began arriving from around the world. By 1974, she established the nonprofit Amargosa Opera House, Inc. to preserve the property. She continued performing weekly (later on Saturdays) until her final show in February 2012, at age 87.
Becket also expanded to own and restore the adjacent hotel, infusing it with her artistic vision.
Legacy and Final Years
Marta Becket passed away on January 30, 2017, at her home in Death Valley Junction at the age of 92, from natural causes. Her story of following her heart—leaving the bright lights of New York for a solitary desert stage—has inspired countless artists and dreamers.
The Amargosa Opera House remains a living tribute to her vision, hosting performances, tours, and events to this day. Her legacy endures as a testament to the power of art, determination, and the magic that can bloom even in the most unexpected places.
Here are a few beautiful portraits and moments of Marta Becket herself, capturing her grace and enduring spirit:
Lost Burro Mine
The Lost Burro Mine is one of the best-preserved historic gold mining sites in Death Valley National Park, California. Located in a remote draw at the northern end of the mountain range separating Hidden Valley from Racetrack Valley (near Teakettle Junction in the Ubehebe Mining District), the mine sits in rugged terrain accessible only by high-clearance 4WD vehicles via a rough 1-mile dirt track off the Hidden Valley road. Its isolation has helped protect the site from vandalism, making it a fascinating glimpse into early 20th-century prospecting life.
Discovery (1907)
The story of the Lost Burro Mine began on April 18, 1907, with a classic tale of serendipity. Prospector Bert Shively, while searching for his stray burros in a remote canyon, picked up a rock intending to throw it at the animals to get their attention. Instead of tossing it, he noticed the rock was laced with visible free gold. Surface assays from the outcroppings reportedly ran from $40 to $1,000 per ton — incredibly rich values for the era.
Shively quickly filed six claims and partnered with others, securing options worth around $45,000. The accidental discovery turned the site into one of the most promising gold properties in the Ubehebe District (an area otherwise known more for lead, silver, and copper).
Early Development and Peak Years (1907–1910s)
Despite the financial panic of 1907, work continued at the Lost Burro, regarded as one of the richest claims in the district. Ore samples averaged high gold values (some reports cite up to $80–$1,450 per ton in early assays), and the mine attracted multiple ownership changes and optimistic plans.
By the 1910s, development included short tunnels along the vein, with ore intersections averaging $25 per ton in later reports. Foundations were laid for a five-stamp mill and cyanide plant, intended to process ore on-site, with water piped in from Burro Spring (about 7.5 miles northeast on Tin Mountain) via a 2-inch pipeline. Remnants of this pipeline — along with rusted oil drums, tin cans, old chairs, and other debris — still litter the site.
The mine’s greatest production likely occurred between 1912 and 1917, though official records are sparse. It stands out as the only exclusively gold-bearing property in the Ubehebe District.
Later Operations and Decline (1920s–1970s)
The mine changed hands several times over the decades and was worked intermittently. In 1942, claims were relocated, and further amendments occurred in 1948 and 1970. A small amount of recorded production (about 255 ounces of gold between 1935 and 1942) exists, but unofficial estimates suggest the total lifetime output may have approached $100,000 in gold value.
Operations wound down by the 1970s, and the site was eventually incorporated into Death Valley National Park, where all mining claims became inactive.
Modern Legacy
Today, the Lost Burro Mine features a remarkably intact wooden cabin (in good condition, with stories of a “curse” leading some visitors to return removed artifacts), an outhouse, multiple adits (some used for storage), a one-chute ore bin, mill foundations stairstepping down the hillside, scattered machinery (including a small retort/smeltor and sluice box remnants), and tailings piles.
The site’s remoteness — requiring a challenging 4WD journey often combined with trips to the nearby Racetrack Playa — has kept it well-preserved and largely free of modern vandalism. Visitors are reminded to leave everything as found, as the area is protected wilderness.
The Lost Burro Mine remains a testament to the tenacity of Death Valley prospectors — turning a frustrated burro chase into a legendary gold story in one of the harshest environments on Earth. Always check current road conditions and permits with the National Park Service before visiting!
Lost Burro Mine Video
Lost Burro Mine Trail Map
Lippincott Mine
The Lippincott Mine (also known as the Lead King Mine) is a historic lead-silver mine located in the remote southwestern corner of Racetrack Valley within Death Valley National Park, California. Situated in the Ubehebe Mining District on the ridge separating Racetrack Valley from Saline Valley, the site represents one of the area’s more productive small-scale mining operations in the early-to-mid 20th century. Today, it features scattered ruins, adits (horizontal mine entrances), tailings piles, and remnants of mining infrastructure, though much has deteriorated over time. Visitors often access it via rough off-road routes, including the infamous Lippincott Mine Road.
Discovery and Early Development (1906–1910s)
The Lippincott Mine was discovered in 1906, with significant development work beginning around 1908. Located in a harsh, water-scarce desert environment, the mine targeted rich lead-silver deposits (primarily galena ore). Early ore samples showed impressive grades, often yielding around 42% lead and 8 ounces of silver per ton, making extraction economically viable despite the remote location.
The mine saw its most productive period during World War I, when demand for lead (used in ammunition and other wartime materials) surged. Miners reportedly used the flat, dry surface of the nearby Racetrack Playa as an improvised landing strip for small aircraft, aiding in supply transport and oversight.
World War II Era and Post-War Operations (1940s–1950s)
Operations ramped up again during World War II, with development of the Lead King Mine (under the Lippincott family) beginning in May 1942. A small crew of about eight miners extracted high-grade silver-lead ore, which was trucked out to Goldfield, Nevada, then railed to smelters in Utah. Only the richest ore was shipped due to challenging logistics — the silver was particularly valuable for wartime storage batteries.
Despite high ore quality (some reports cite up to 63% lead and 35 ounces of silver), federal restrictions shut down operations during the later war years as part of resource conservation efforts. The Lippincott family resumed work from 1946 to 1951, constructing additional infrastructure like a mine camp with wood and tarpaper cabins, an ore tipple, and possibly a tramway system.
Water scarcity remained a major challenge — supplies had to be trucked in over long distances — and this likely contributed to the eventual closure. Limited activity may have continued sporadically into the 1970s under later owners like George Lippincott Jr.’s Polaris Battery Company, which considered further exploration in 1974.
Legacy and Modern Significance
The Lippincott Mine is now part of Death Valley National Park, where all mining claims are inactive, and the site is protected as a historic resource. Ruins include adits (some gated for bat protection), scattered timbers, old vehicle parts, and tailings piles — visitors should avoid disturbing soil or inhaling dust due to potential residual lead contamination.
The mine’s access road — the steep, narrow, and extremely challenging Lippincott Mine Road (also called Lippincott Pass) — was originally built in 1906 to reach the site. This 7-mile route from Saline Valley to Racetrack Valley features sheer drop-offs, tight switchbacks, and rough terrain, making it one of Death Valley’s most notorious 4WD trails (high-clearance 4WD with experienced drivers only; uphill traffic has right-of-way).
The Lippincott Mine stands as a testament to the tenacity of early 20th-century prospectors in one of the harshest environments on Earth, contributing to the broader mining history of Death Valley that includes gold, silver, borax, and other metals. While not as famous as sites like Rhyolite or the Keane Wonder Mine, it remains a fascinating, off-the-beaten-path destination for adventurous visitors exploring Racetrack Valley’s moving rocks and remote wilderness. Always check current road conditions with the National Park Service before attempting access!
Treloar Murder January 14, 1881
Bodie, California, was a booming gold mining town in Mono County during the late 1870s and early 1880s, with a population peaking around 8,000-10,000 residents. Known for its rough frontier atmosphere, the town was rife with saloons, gambling, and violence, earning it a reputation as one of the Wild West’s most lawless settlements. While official law enforcement existed, including sheriffs and deputies, the remote location and frequent crimes often led to extrajudicial actions by vigilante groups. One such group was the Bodie 601, a secretive vigilance committee formed around 1880-1881, whose name reportedly stood for “6 feet under, 0 trials, 1 rope.” The murder of miner Thomas H. Treloar by Joseph DeRoche (also spelled Deroche or Daroche) in January 1881 became the catalyst for the 601’s most infamous act, highlighting the town’s precarious balance between formal justice and mob rule. This incident, rooted in jealousy and infidelity, underscored the dangers of personal disputes in a volatile mining camp and contributed to Bodie’s enduring lore as a “bad man’s” paradise.
Background: The Key Figures and Rising Tensions
Thomas H. Treloar, born around 1850 in England (possibly as Thomas Henry Treloar to parents John Treloar and Eliza Batten), was a Cornish hard-rock miner who immigrated to the United States. He worked in Virginia City’s Comstock Lode before arriving in Bodie during its gold rush boom in the late 1870s. Treloar was known for his resilience; he survived a dramatic 225-foot fall down a mine shaft in Virginia City, which left him with injuries described by the Daily Free Press (January 18, 1881) as rendering him “little more than half witted.” Despite this, he continued mining and married Johanna Londrigan (also spelled Lonahan) on January 2, 1879, in Bodie. The 1880 census listed him as a 30-year-old miner born in England, living with his 28-year-old wife Johanna, who was born in Rhode Island to Irish parents. Treloar had taken out a $1,000 life insurance policy with the New England Life Insurance Company, set to mature in 1881 (equivalent to over $100,000 in modern value), which Johanna allegedly married him to claim, as she reportedly told auction house owner John Brophy: “Oh, I married him for that endowment policy on his life, which will be due in a couple of years; and then I will have the money.”
Joseph DeRoche, a French-Canadian in his late 40s or early 50s (born around 1831), owned the Booker Flat brickyard and a two-story brick house in Bodie. He had a wife and three children in Chicago but had known Johanna for about 12 years, first meeting her in Chicago in the late 1860s. Rumors of an affair between Johanna and DeRoche circulated widely in Bodie, fueling Treloar’s jealousy. The couple’s marriage was troubled; Treloar once punched Johanna, leading to his conviction for battery in June 1879. Tensions escalated as Treloar quarreled with both his wife and DeRoche over the suspected infidelity.
The Incident: The Shooting at the Miners’ Union Hall Ball
The fatal confrontation unfolded on the night of January 13, 1881, during a social society ball at the Miners’ Union Hall on Main Street in Bodie. Treloar, dressed in denim work clothes, arrived around 11:00 p.m. and confronted Johanna. By 12:30 a.m., he saw her dancing with DeRoche, despite having explicitly told her not to. Enraged, Treloar confided to the doorman, “I told my wife not to dance with that man, and she said she wouldn’t,” and expressed to George Morgan his intent to kill DeRoche. Warned of the threat, DeRoche stepped outside and exchanged heated words with Treloar, later claiming he had “run Treloar off with a gun.”
After the ball ended around 2:00 a.m. on January 14, 1881, Treloar and Johanna left the hall and walked down Main Street. DeRoche, who had left earlier, ambushed them at the corner of Main and Lowe Streets, emerging from the darkness. He pulled a .38 caliber double-action Forehand and Wadsworth revolver (sometimes described as a British Bulldog revolver) and shot Treloar in the back of the head, with the bullet entering just below the left ear, killing him instantly. Witnesses G.W. Alexander and E.S. Butler, who were nearby, heard the shot and saw DeRoche fire without provocation. Butler grabbed DeRoche’s gun and asked, “What did you shoot that man for?” DeRoche falsely claimed, “Because he jumped me — see where he scratched me,” but no scratches were found. Deputy James Monahan arrested DeRoche on the spot. Johanna, informed by DeRoche with the words “Mrs. Treloar, I have killed your husband!” rushed to the scene, finding Treloar dead in a pool of blood.
Immediate Aftermath: Arrest, Escape, and Recapture
DeRoche was charged with murder and jailed in Bodie around 2:00 a.m. on January 14. However, Deputy Joe Farnsworth, who was intoxicated, suggested moving him to Farnsworth’s room at the Standard boarding house for safety from a potential lynch mob. Constable John Kirgan and Deputy Constable Sam Williamson agreed, and Farnsworth shackled DeRoche there before falling into a drunken sleep, described by the Daily Free Press (January 15, 1881) as “the profound sleep of the inebriated.” By 8:00 a.m., DeRoche had escaped, possibly after Farnsworth was bribed with $1,000 (though Farnsworth denied it). DeRoche fled down Goat Ranch Road to a wood ranch about eight miles away.
A coroner’s inquest began shortly after noon on January 14, with Alexander and Butler testifying to the unprovoked shooting. On January 16, the jury ruled it a “willful and premeditated murder,” criticizing Kirgan for “gross neglect of duty” and Farnsworth for being “criminally careless.” Public outrage boiled over, with the Daily Free Press warning that Farnsworth “must produce the murderer or suffer the consequences.” The Bodie 601, comprising about 200 organized men, searched Bodie and interrogated DeRoche’s French-Canadian associates, including one named DeGerro, who revealed his hiding spot. On January 17, 1881, vigilantes captured DeRoche at the ranch, where he claimed the gun discharged accidentally during a struggle with Treloar and that Farnsworth had advised him to flee.
The Lynching: Vigilante Justice by the Bodie 601
DeRoche was returned to Bodie jail, but the 601 acted swiftly. Between 1:30 and 2:00 a.m. on January 24, 1881, about 200 masked and unmasked men, armed with shotguns, marched to the jail and demanded his release. Jailer Kirgan complied, and the mob removed DeRoche. They marched him to Webber’s blacksmith shop, relocating a gallows frame (used for raising wagons) to the corner of Main and Lowe Streets—the exact site of the murder. Dressed in light-colored pants, a colored calico shirt, and a canvas coat, DeRoche had his hands and legs tied. Asked if he had anything to say, he replied, “I have nothing to say only O God.” He was hanged, dying immediately from strangulation. A note pinned to his body read: “All others take warning. Let no one cut him down. Bodie 601.” The lynching was described in The Bodie Free Press as “awful and impressive,” with attorney Pat Reddy unsuccessfully offering $100 for participants to reveal their names.
Impact on Bodie and Legacy
The Treloar shooting and DeRoche’s lynching reinforced Bodie’s image as a town where justice was often swift and unofficial, especially amid perceived failures in law enforcement like Farnsworth’s negligence. It deterred potential criminals, as the 601’s actions served as a stark warning, and highlighted social tensions in mining camps, including infidelity and ethnic divisions (e.g., targeting French-Canadians). Treloar was buried on January 13 or shortly after by the fire department and miners’ union, though exact dates vary slightly in accounts. Johanna likely claimed the insurance policy, but her fate is unclear. The event faded as Bodie declined in the 1880s due to depleting gold, but it endures in ghost town lore, preserved at Bodie State Historic Park. Today, the site of the shooting and lynching remains a point of interest, symbolizing the Wild West’s brutal frontier justice.
Jackrabbit Nevada – Lincoln County Ghost Town
Jackrabbit, Nevada, is a ghost town and former silver mining camp located in Lincoln County, on the eastern slopes of the Bristol Range. Originally named Royal City, the settlement was established in 1876 following the discovery of silver ore and became a modest but active mining community. Known for its colorful origin story and brief periods of prosperity, Jackrabbit’s history reflects the boom-and-bust cycle typical of Nevada’s 19th-century mining towns. This report explores the town’s origins, development, decline, and historical significance, drawing on primary sources, historical markers, and secondary accounts.
Origins and Early Development (1876–1878)
The Jackrabbit Mining District was founded in 1876 by prospector Isaac Newton Garrison. Local legend attributes the discovery of silver to Garrison picking up a rock to throw at a jackrabbit, only to find it contained high-grade silver ore. This tale, while possibly apocryphal, gave the district and its primary mine their name. The camp, initially called Royal City, quickly attracted miners and settlers due to the promise of rich silver deposits.
By late 1876, Royal City had developed into a small but functional settlement. The town included:
- A general store
- A saloon
- A boarding house
- A restaurant
- A blacksmith shop
Early mine production was significant, with the Jackrabbit Mine yielding approximately ten tons of ore per day. The ore, carrying native silver in flakes, averaged $40 per ton but could reach as high as $2,000 per ton in richer veins. Ore was transported to nearby Bristol and Pioche for milling, as Jackrabbit lacked its own processing facilities. A post office operated briefly from 1878 to 1879, reflecting the town’s early optimism and activity. Total production for the district during this period is estimated at $2,000,000 to $6,000,000 (roughly $60,000,000 to $180,000,000 in 2025 dollars).
Peak and Challenges (1879–1891)
Jackrabbit’s early years were marked by steady mining activity, but the town never grew into a major hub like nearby Pioche. By the early 1880s, mineral production began to decline as the richest veins were exhausted. The lack of local milling infrastructure and the high cost of transporting ore to Bristol or Pioche limited profitability. The town’s population remained small, likely numbering fewer than 100 residents at its peak, and its role as a minor stopover was cemented by its designation as the “last whiskey stop” for southbound stages to Pioche.
Despite these challenges, Jackrabbit maintained a modest community. The Day and Jackrabbit mines continued to produce ore, and the town’s businesses catered to miners and travelers. Newspaper clippings from the late 1870s and 1880s, such as those preserved by the Lincoln County Authority of Tourism, note ongoing prospecting in the area, with miners hoping to uncover new strikes similar to the Jackrabbit and nearby Mayflower mines. However, the town struggled to compete with larger, better-connected mining centers.
Revival and the Narrow-Gauge Railroad (1891–1893)
A brief revival occurred in 1891 with the construction of a 15-mile narrow-gauge railroad, known as the “Jackrabbit Road,” connecting the Jackrabbit Mine to Pioche. This railroad, built to reduce transportation costs, spurred a temporary increase in mining activity. The improved access allowed for more efficient ore shipment, and production rose as new workings were opened. During this period, the town was officially renamed Jackrabbit, reflecting the prominence of the mine and its origin story.
The revival was short-lived, however. By 1893, the mines again became unprofitable due to depleted high-grade ore and falling silver prices, exacerbated by the Panic of 1893. The railroad ceased operations, and the town’s population dwindled as miners left for more promising prospects.
Final Activity and Abandonment (1906–1914)
Jackrabbit saw two brief periods of renewed activity in the early 20th century. In 1906–1907, small-scale mining resumed, possibly driven by technological improvements or temporary spikes in silver demand. Another attempt in 1912–1914 included the construction of an aerial tramway connecting the Jackrabbit Mine to the Bristol Mine, but these efforts failed to sustain the town. By the mid-1910s, Jackrabbit was effectively abandoned, with only occasional prospecting in the surrounding district.
Archaeological and Historical Significance
Today, Jackrabbit is a ghost town with minimal physical remains. Located approximately 14 miles north of Pioche and one mile west of U.S. Highway 93, the site includes remnants such as mine headframes, building foundations, and scattered debris. Visitors are cautioned to avoid climbing on old structures or entering mining tunnels due to safety hazards. The Nevada State Historical Marker No. 204, erected by the Nevada State Park System and Nevada Historical Society, stands near the site, commemorating its history.
Archaeological evidence provides insight into Jackrabbit’s modest scale and industrial focus. The site’s remote location and lack of significant infrastructure distinguish it from larger boomtowns like Virginia City or Tonopah. Historical records, including Stanley W. Paher’s Nevada Ghost Towns & Mining Camps and James Gamett’s Nevada Post Offices: An Illustrated History, document the town’s brief existence and its role in Lincoln County’s mining history.
Legacy
Jackrabbit, Nevada, exemplifies the transient nature of small-scale mining camps in the American West. Its colorful origin story, modest prosperity, and eventual decline reflect the challenges of sustaining resource-dependent communities in remote regions. The town’s connection to the broader silver mining economy, particularly through its railroad link to Pioche, underscores its place in Nevada’s industrial history. While overshadowed by larger mining centers, Jackrabbit remains a point of interest for historians, ghost town enthusiasts, and those exploring Lincoln County’s high desert landscape.
Conclusion
From its founding in 1876 as Royal City to its abandonment by the early 20th century, Jackrabbit, Nevada, was a fleeting chapter in the state’s mining saga. Its silver mines, small community, and brief railroad era highlight the ambition and impermanence of Nevada’s frontier settlements. Though little remains of Jackrabbit today, its story endures through historical markers, archival records, and the rugged beauty of the Bristol Range.
Nevada State Historic Marker
Local legend attributes the discovery to the locator picking up a rock to throw at a jackrabbit and finding himself holding high grade silver. Located on the eastern slope of the Bristol Mountains, the Jack Rabbit District, named for the mine, was located in 1876 by Isaac Newton Garrison. Within months the camp, at one time named Royal City, had a store, saloon, boarding house and restaurant. Early mine production was about ten tons per day, carrying native silver in flakes, yielding about $40 per ton — sometimes as high as $2000 per ton. Total production of the District is estimated at about $2,000,000 to $6,000,000. Mine production declined during the 1880’s, but when a fifteen-mile narrow gauge railroad was opened in 1891 between the Jackrabbit mine and Pioche, mineral production soon increased. After 1893 the mines fell silent except for several short periods of activity in 1906-07 and 1912-14.
Nevada State Historic Marker
Town Summary
| Name | Jack Rabbit |
| Location | Lincoln County, Nevada |
| Latitude, Longitude | 38.094009, -114.595399 |
| Nevada State Historic Marker | 204 |
| Elevation | 6330 |
| Population | |
| Post Office | October 15, 1878 – January 26, 1879 – (Royal City) |
Directions
The ghost town of Jackrabbit Nevada is about 14 miles north of Pioche and one mile west of the US 93.