Miners Union Hall – Bodie, California

Exterior View of the miners hall in Bodie, CA Photo by James Rathbun
Exterior View of the miners hall in Bodie, CA Photo by James Rathbun

Bodie, California, is a well-preserved ghost town located in Mono County, east of the Sierra Nevada mountains. It emerged as a booming mining camp following the discovery of placer gold in July 1859 and a quartz vein in August of that year. Although initial mining efforts were modest, the town experienced explosive growth in the late 1870s due to rich gold and silver deposits, particularly from the Standard Mine. By 1879–1880, Bodie’s population swelled to an estimated 7,000–12,000 residents, with around 2,000 buildings, including saloons, churches, a school, and a railroad. The town became notorious for its lawlessness, with frequent shootings, robberies, and a harsh climate that contributed to its “bad man from Bodie” reputation. Amid this chaotic environment, the Miners’ Union Hall stood as a cornerstone of organized labor and community life, symbolizing the miners’ efforts to improve working conditions and foster social cohesion.

Formation of the Bodie Miners’ Union and Construction of the Hall

The Bodie Miners’ Union was formally organized on December 22, 1877, as one of the earliest labor unions in California. It began with about 20 members but quickly grew as the town’s mining industry expanded. The union affiliated with the Western Federation of Miners in 1903, becoming Local 61. Recognizing the need for a dedicated space, union members constructed the Miners’ Union Hall on Main Street in 1878. Construction was completed on June 28, 1878, making it one of the key structures built during Bodie’s peak boom period. Architecturally, the hall was a simple wooden building with shiplap siding, ogee moldings, and wood plank footpaths, typical of frontier mining town construction. It served as a multifunctional space, including as a hall, auditorium, theater, and later a gallery or museum.

The union’s formation was driven by the dangerous and exploitative conditions in Bodie’s mines. Miners faced long hours, low wages, and high risks from cave-ins, explosions, and toxic fumes. The union advocated for better pay, safer working environments, and benefits like medical care for injured workers. By providing a venue for meetings, the hall became the epicenter for labor organizing, where members discussed strikes, negotiated with mine owners, and supported one another during disputes.

Role of the Miners’ Union Hall in the Town

Beyond its labor functions, the Miners’ Union Hall played a pivotal role in Bodie’s social, cultural, and even spiritual fabric, earning it a reputation as the “center of social life” in the town. In a remote, isolated community plagued by violence and harsh winters, the hall offered a vital gathering place that fostered community bonds and provided respite from the rigors of mining life. It hosted a wide array of events, including dances, concerts, plays, school recitals, and holiday celebrations, transforming it into an entertainment hub. Annual highlights included the Fourth of July Grand Ball, an elegant masquerade ball on Washington’s Birthday (notably, it “invariably snowed” during these events), and Christmas parties for all ages. School performances and other family-oriented activities also took place there, underscoring its role in education and family life.

The hall’s significance extended to spiritual and civic matters. It was described as central to Bodie’s “social and spiritual life,” possibly hosting religious services or moral discussions in a town with limited churches. Politically, it supported labor rights during a time when unions were crucial for countering the power of mining companies. The hall also reflected Bodie’s diverse population, including immigrants from China, Mexico, and Europe, though union membership was likely dominated by white miners. Overall, in a town known for its saloons and brothels, the hall provided a more wholesome alternative, helping to maintain social order and community morale amid economic booms and busts.

Notable Events and Incidents

One of the most infamous events associated with the Miners’ Union Hall occurred on January 15, 1881, during a dance at the venue. Joseph DeRoche (also known as Jules DeRoche), a local brick foundry owner romantically involved with the wife of miner Thomas Treloar, danced repeatedly with Treloar’s wife despite objections. Treloar confronted the pair, leading to an altercation outside the hall where DeRoche shot and killed Treloar. DeRoche was arrested and held in Bodie’s jail, but on January 24, 1881, the vigilante group known as the Bodie 601 (a secretive committee formed to combat crime, with “601” possibly standing for “6 feet under, 0 trials, 1 rope”) broke him out and lynched him near the murder site. This incident highlighted the hall’s role as a social flashpoint and Bodie’s reliance on vigilante justice due to inadequate law enforcement.

Other events included union-led funerals and parades, such as the burial procession for Treloar, attended by the Fire Department and Miners’ Union. The hall’s association with such dramatic episodes cemented its place in Bodie’s lore of Wild West violence.

Miners Hall, Bodie, California - Photo by James L Rathbun
Miners Hall, Bodie, California – Photo by James L Rathbun

Decline and Preservation

Bodie’s decline began in the 1880s as ore deposits dwindled, exacerbated by major fires in 1892 and 1932 that destroyed much of the town. By the early 20th century, the population had dropped sharply, and mining operations largely ceased by the 1940s. The Miners’ Union Hall, however, survived these disasters and the town’s abandonment. In 1962, the state of California acquired Bodie, designating it as Bodie State Historic Park to preserve it in a state of “arrested decay.” Some restoration work on the hall occurred that year under the “Mission 66” program.

Today, the hall serves as the park’s museum and gift shop, displaying artifacts from Bodie’s past, including mining tools, photographs, and household items. Administered by the Bodie Foundation since 2024, it attracts about 200,000 visitors annually, offering a glimpse into the town’s mining heritage and the hall’s enduring legacy as a symbol of community resilience. The site is a National Historic Landmark, emphasizing its historical importance.

Standard Mine Magazine Explosion – July 14, 1879

A vintage photo of the Standard Mill in Bodie as it appeared sometime during the 1980s.  Photo by Paul Wight
A vintage photo of the Standard Mill in Bodie as it appeared sometime during the 1980s. Photo by Paul Wight

Bodie, California, emerged as a bustling gold mining town in the late 1870s, located in Mono County in the eastern Sierra Nevada mountains. Discovered in 1859 by William S. Bodey (often misspelled as “Body”), the town experienced a significant boom starting around 1876 with rich gold discoveries, particularly at the Standard Mine operated by the Standard Consolidated Mining Company. By 1879, Bodie’s population had swelled to approximately 7,000 to 10,000 residents, making it one of the largest and most notorious mining camps in California. The town was known for its rough-and-tumble atmosphere, with saloons, gambling halls, and frequent violence, but its economy revolved around gold extraction. Mines like the Standard relied heavily on explosives, including “giant powder” (a dynamite-like substance based on nitroglycerin), stored in magazines near the works for blasting operations. This set the stage for one of the town’s most tragic disasters: the explosion at the Standard Mine’s powder magazine.

The Explosion: Date, Time, and Description

The explosion occurred on Thursday, July 10, 1879, at approximately 4:00 PM (though some accounts place it closer to 8:00 PM). It was not an underground mine blast but rather the detonation of the powder magazine located on the hillside near the Standard Mine works, about a mile from the main town of Bodie. The magazine contained an estimated three to five tons of giant powder cartridges, used for blasting in the mine. A massive cloud of smoke rose from the site, followed by a deafening roar and a shockwave that resembled a violent earthquake. The blast was felt as far as 20-25 miles away in Bridgeport, California, and it vaporized the magazine, leaving a large crater in its place. Nearby structures, including the old Standard hoisting works and the Summit Mine building (about 400 feet away), were demolished or set ablaze. Fires broke out in the timbering of the old incline but were quickly extinguished by responders. The shockwave shattered windows, blew down houses, and extinguished lights throughout Bodie, causing widespread panic as residents rushed to the scene amid cries of alarm and searches for loved ones.

Miners working underground in the Standard Mine at the time—numbering around 100—escaped unharmed. They were initially unaware of the surface explosion due to the mine’s connecting drifts, which allowed smoke and gases to dissipate quickly, preventing suffocation. The new shaft and hoisting works, as well as the mill, remained operational, allowing mining activities to resume without major interruption.

Known Causes

The exact cause of the explosion remains a mystery, as the magazine was obliterated, and key witnesses were killed. Contemporary accounts speculated that it might have been accidental, possibly triggered by William O’Brien, the man in charge of the magazine, who was last seen heading there with Charles Malloy to retrieve fuse materials. One theory suggested O’Brien may have dropped a blasting cap, igniting the powder. No evidence of foul play or sabotage was reported, and miners in Bodie described it as an inexplicable accident. The use of giant powder, while effective for mining, was inherently dangerous due to its sensitivity to shock and friction. In the aftermath, the incident led to changes in powder storage practices in Bodie to improve safety, such as more isolated magazines and stricter handling protocols.

Casualties: Deaths and Injuries

The explosion claimed between 6 and 10 lives, with discrepancies in counts likely due to unidentified remains and delayed reports of fatalities. Over 40 people were injured, many severely, though most were expected to recover. The victims were primarily surface workers, residents in nearby cabins, and passersby, including some women and children buried under debris. The Miners’ Union Hall in Bodie was hastily converted into a makeshift hospital, where fraternal organizations like the Masons and Odd Fellows assisted in caring for the wounded. The scene was described as heart-rending, with the hall crowded by the dead, dying, and grieving relatives.

Known Deaths

Accounts vary slightly in names and spellings, but the following individuals were reported killed:

  • Frank Fiele (or Fyde)
  • Thomas Flavin (or Flaherty)
  • Hugh H. McMillan
  • William O’Brien (magazine keeper, body not recovered)
  • Charles Malloy (or Malley, body not recovered)
  • John McCarty (or McCarthy)
  • Additional unidentified victims, including mutilated remains and possibly a Chinese worker buried under ruins (bringing some tallies to 10).

Known Injuries

Injuries ranged from fractures and lacerations to lost limbs, eyes, and internal damage. Notable wounded individuals included:

  • William Hedges (engineer at the Summit Mine: arm and leg broken, head badly injured)
  • Hugh McMillan (second individual with this name: leg broken, internal injuries; later died, possibly contributing to higher death counts)
  • Richard Palmer (arm broken, body disfigured)
  • Jack Dempsey (cut about the head, internal injuries)
  • H. H. Herncast (or Hemsast: shoulder fractured)
  • Daniel McDonald (lost one eye, other injuries)
  • Alexander McGregor (badly bruised)
  • J. C. Shreves (terribly cut about head and face)
  • Thomas Murphy (arm fractured, eyes blown out, skull fractured; not expected to recover)
  • John Hickey (brother of foreman: badly hurt)
  • James Hickey (foreman of Standard Mine: foot and body severely injured)
  • Mrs. McKinney and her child (buried in ruins, severely injured but extricated alive and expected to recover)
  • Mrs. Shay (severely injured)
  • Mrs. Snead (slightly injured)
  • Thomas Gill (face nearly blown off)
  • Sullivan (engineer: both eyes blown out, skull fractured; not expected to recover)
  • Mr. and Mrs. Chaff (slightly wounded)
  • D. Pierce (slightly wounded)
  • Mr. Pyle (badly hurt in the Standard boarding-house)
  • John McMillan (buried in cabin, rescued with slight injuries)

A coroner’s jury was impaneled to investigate, but no definitive conclusions on causes or additional victims were detailed in surviving reports.

Impact on the Town and Mining Operations

The explosion had immediate and lasting effects on Bodie, though the town’s resilience allowed it to rebound quickly. Physically, it destroyed the old Standard hoisting works, the Summit Mine building, and several nearby cabins, boarding houses, and restaurants (including those at the McClinton, Bodie, Dudley, Jupiter, Tioga, Bechtel, and old Bodie mines, which suffered broken doors and windows). Damage estimates were initially overestimated, but the blast shattered glass and structural integrity across the town, with boulders and debris raining down on structures up to 2,000 feet away. The new Standard shaft and mill escaped serious harm, enabling operations to continue and preventing a broader economic collapse.

Socially, the disaster heightened community bonds, as residents rallied to aid victims, and it underscored the perils of mining life in Bodie. It prompted safety reforms in explosive storage, reducing the risk of similar incidents. Economically, Bodie was at its peak in 1879-1880, with the Standard Mine producing richly, so the explosion did not halt the boom—production actually increased in subsequent years. However, it contributed to Bodie’s reputation as a dangerous place, alongside its infamous violence and later fires (such as those in 1886 and 1892). The event faded into local lore as Bodie declined in the 1880s due to depleting ore, eventually becoming a ghost town preserved as Bodie State Historic Park today.

Rosa May

Rosa May, Born Rosa Elizabeth White in January 1855
Rosa May, Born Rosa Elizabeth White in January 1855

Rosa May was a prostitute and madam in Bodie, California, during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, known for her colorful life in the Wild West. Born Rosa Elizabeth White in January 1855 in Pennsylvania to Irish immigrants, she ran away from home at 16 and entered prostitution in New York City. By 1873, she was working in Virginia City, Nevada, under madam Cad Thompson, and later moved to Bodie around 1888. There, she ran a successful brothel in the red-light district, owned a house, and had a relationship with saloon owner Ernest Marks.

A local legend, popularized by Ella Cain’s 1956 book The Story of Bodie, portrays Rosa as a “hooker with a heart of gold” who died nursing miners during a 1911–1912 epidemic. However, research by George Williams III found no evidence of such an epidemic or her death, suggesting she may have left Bodie after 1910 as the town declined. Her fate remains unknown, but her story, preserved through letters and folklore, makes her a legendary figure in Bodie’s history, with a supposed grave at Boot Hill Cemetery drawing tourists.

Early Life and Beginnings

Rosa Elizabeth White, known as Rosa May, was born in January 1855 in Pennsylvania to Irish immigrant parents. Raised in a strict household, Rosa’s early life was marked by constraint, which may have contributed to her decision to run away from home at the age of 16 in 1871. Fleeing to New York City, she found herself in a challenging environment with limited opportunities for a young, uneducated woman. It was here that Rosa entered the world of prostitution, a path that would define much of her life. From 1871 to 1873, she drifted through mining camps in Colorado and Idaho, honing her trade in the rough-and-tumble towns of the American West.

Life in Virginia City

By 1873, Rosa May arrived in Virginia City, Nevada, a bustling silver mining town. She quickly became a prominent figure in the local red-light district, working under madam Cad Thompson (Sarah Higgins) at the Brick House, a well-known brothel. Rosa was a favored employee, often entrusted with managing the establishment during Thompson’s trips to San Francisco. Her time in Virginia City, from 1873 to 1888, was spent circulating between brothels in Virginia City, Carson City, and Reno. Described as a petite, dark-eyed, curly-haired woman, Rosa was known for her charm and emotional volatility, traits that endeared her to some and alienated others. Letters and diaries from the period suggest she took a genuine interest in those around her, though her early years may have been shaped by a traumatic event, the details of which remain unknown.

Move to Bodie

In 1888, Rosa began traveling between Virginia City and Bodie, California, a gold-mining boomtown. She settled in Bodie by 1893, where she formed a significant relationship with Ernest Marks, a saloon owner. Rosa purchased a house in Bodie’s red-light district, known as Virgin Alley, for $175 in 1902, establishing herself as a fixture in the town’s underworld. Her home, marked by a red lantern, was adorned with fine furnishings, silver doorknobs, and mirrors, reflecting wealth accumulated from her trade and Marks’ affection, who reportedly lavished her with diamonds and furs. Rosa’s time in Bodie was marked by her business acumen, as she ran a thriving prostitution and gambling operation alongside Marks.

The Legend of the “Hooker with a Heart of Gold”

Rosa May’s legacy is tied to a local legend that portrays her as a compassionate figure who nursed sick miners during a supposed epidemic in Bodie, ultimately succumbing to the illness herself in the winter of 1911 or 1912. This story, popularized by Ella Cain’s 1956 book The Story of Bodie, earned Rosa the moniker “the hooker with a heart of gold.” However, extensive research by author George Williams III in the 1970s casts doubt on this narrative. Williams found no evidence of an epidemic during 1911–1912, and contemporary accounts from Bodie residents refute the claim. It’s likely that Cain’s account, which includes a photo of an unmarked grave surrounded by a wooden fence, was embellished for dramatic effect. The grave, a popular tourist attraction at Bodie State Historic Park, may not even be Rosa’s, as a headstone placed there in 1965 by Louis Serventi was based on family stories and Cain’s book, not definitive evidence.

Disappearance and Legacy

Rosa May appears in the 1910 Bodie census, listed as a 46-year-old prostitute, but no records of her exist in the town after that year. As Bodie’s economy declined, she may have left in search of better opportunities. Despite an exhaustive search, Williams found no death records for Rosa, leaving her fate uncertain. A delinquent tax notice from 1913 lists her property in Bodie, suggesting she may have abandoned it. Her story, shrouded in mystery, is preserved through 26 personal letters discovered by Williams, which offer glimpses into her charismatic yet complex personality.

Rosa’s life was dramatized in the musical Nevada Belle by George Morgan and Duane Ashby, and her supposed grave remains a draw for visitors to Bodie’s Boot Hill Cemetery, where she was allegedly buried outside the main cemetery due to her profession. While much of her biography remains speculative, Rosa May’s story captures the resilience and contradictions of women navigating the harsh realities of the Wild West. Her legacy endures as a symbol of both the stigmatized “fallen woman” and the enduring allure of the frontier’s untold stories.

The Lost Cement Mine

The Lost Cement Mine is one of California’s most enduring legends from the Gold Rush era, a tale of fabulous wealth hidden in the rugged terrain of the eastern Sierra Nevada. First discovered in 1857, this elusive gold vein has captivated prospectors, adventurers, and historians for over a century. Described as a ledge of rusty, reddish “cement” laced with pure gold, the mine’s story is steeped in mystery, misfortune, and the allure of untold riches. This report explores the historical context, discovery, subsequent searches, and enduring legacy of the Lost Cement Mine, drawing on primary accounts and historical records to separate fact from folklore.

Historical Context: The California Gold Rush

The discovery of gold at Sutter’s Mill in 1848 sparked the California Gold Rush, drawing over 80,000 prospectors to the region by 1849 alone. Miners scoured the Sierra Nevada and other areas, extracting millions in gold through placer mining and, later, hard-rock mining. By 1853, gold yields peaked at over $81 million, but the rush also left behind thousands of abandoned claims and tales of “lost mines” when prospectors died, fell ill, or lost their way. The Lost Cement Mine emerged in this frenzied era, its legend fueled by the promise of easy wealth in a landscape where gold seemed to lie just beneath the surface.

The Discovery of the Lost Cement Mine

In 1857, two German prospectors traveling with a California-bound wagon train reportedly separated from their group near the headwaters of the Owens River in the eastern Sierra Nevada. While resting near a stream in what one described as “the burnt country,” they stumbled upon a peculiar ledge of red lava rock studded with lumps of gold, resembling cement in the miners’ parlance of the time. One prospector, skeptical of the find, laughed as his companion collected about ten pounds of ore and drew a crude map of the location. Misfortune struck during their journey: one broke his leg and was left to die, while the survivor, weakened by exhaustion, reached the mining camp of Millerton. There, suffering from tuberculosis, he sought treatment from Dr. Randall, paying him with the ore and the map before succumbing to his illness.

Dr. Randall and the Search for the Mine

Dr. Randall, intrigued by the gold-laden ore, shared the story with friends and organized a prospecting expedition in 1861 to Pumice Flat, approximately eight miles north of Mammoth Canyon near Mono Lake. Accompanied by his assistant Gid Whiteman and other miners, Randall’s party reportedly extracted several thousand dollars’ worth of gold from a ledge, believed to be the Lost Cement Mine. However, the Owens Valley Indian War (1861–1867) disrupted their efforts, as tensions with the Paiute people escalated due to the influx of prospectors. The two German discoverers were allegedly killed by Native Americans, and the mine’s precise location was lost. Word of the find spread, sparking a frenzy among miners in nearby camps like Monoville and Mammoth City.

James W.A. Wright’s Account and Speculation

In 1879, James W.A. Wright, a former Confederate officer and Princeton graduate, published a series of articles in the San Francisco Daily Evening Post detailing his travels through Mono County’s mining camps. Wright speculated that the Lost Cement Mine might have been located across the Sierra Crest, near Devils Postpile, and suggested it had been secretly mined for years before the site was concealed by destroying a mining cabin. His detailed descriptions of the terrain between Monoville and Mammoth City, combined with hearsay from local prospectors, added credibility to the legend. Wright’s work, later compiled into the book The Lost Cement Mine by Richard Lingenfelter, remains a key source, blending firsthand observation with speculative lore.

Mark Twain and the Cultural Impact

Samuel Langhorne Clemens September 1-2, 1867, Pera, Constantinople
Samuel Langhorne Clemens September 1-2, 1867, Pera, Constantinople

The allure of the Lost Cement Mine even drew the attention of Mark Twain, who recounted his own midnight expedition to find it in his 1872 book Roughing It. Accompanied by sketches from the first edition, Twain’s humorous account of his fruitless search underscores the mine’s grip on the public imagination. The legend inspired countless prospectors, with stories of gold “as thick as raisins in a fruit cake” fueling searches well into the 20th century. A historical marker erected in 1980 by the Bodie Chapter of E Clampus Vitus near Owens River Road in Crestview commemorates the mine, noting its discovery in 1857 and periodic rediscoveries until 1877, though its location remains a secret.

Geological and Historical Plausibility

The Lost Cement Mine’s description as a gold-laden ledge of red igneous rock raises geological questions. Most gold deposits in the Sierra Nevada occur in quartz veins or placer deposits, not in cement-like matrices. However, as noted in historical accounts, gold can appear in unexpected forms, and similar “cement-like” gold deposits have been documented elsewhere, such as the Lost White Cement Mine in Colorado and the Lost Mine of Manly Peak in Death Valley. The eastern Sierra’s volcanic history, particularly around Mammoth Lakes, supports the possibility of igneous rock hosting gold, though no definitive evidence confirms the mine’s existence. The region’s mining camps, including Dogtown, Mammoth City, and Bodie, thrived on real gold discoveries, suggesting the legend may have a factual basis.

Legacy and Modern Interest

The Lost Cement Mine remains a potent symbol of the Gold Rush’s promise and peril. Its story has been perpetuated through books, historical markers, and personal accounts, such as a 1950s recollection of a prospector’s father finding a cement-like creek bed near Mono Lake. Today, the mine is part of California’s rich tapestry of lost treasure legends, alongside others like the Lost Pegleg Mine. While modern prospectors occasionally search the Ritter Range or the San Joaquin River’s headwaters, the mine’s elusiveness endures, partly due to the region’s dense forests and rugged terrain. The Bureau of Land Management notes that California hosts approximately 47,000 abandoned mine sites, many posing safety hazards, underscoring the challenges of exploring such areas.

Conclusion

The Lost Cement Mine encapsulates the hope, hardship, and mystery of California’s Gold Rush era. From its 1857 discovery by two ill-fated German prospectors to its tantalizing rediscoveries and ultimate concealment, the mine’s legend has endured through accounts like those of Dr. Randall, James W.A. Wright, and Mark Twain. While its geological plausibility remains debated, the mine’s cultural and historical significance is undeniable, inspiring generations to chase dreams of hidden gold in the Sierra Nevada. As a historical marker near Mammoth Lakes wryly suggests, if you stumble upon a ledge of gold, the E Clampus Vitus would appreciate a call to relocate their monument—perhaps the closest we’ll come to finding the Lost Cement Mine.

Bibliography

  • Wright, James W.A. The Lost Cement Mine. Edited by Richard Lingenfelter, 1984.
  • “Lost Cement Mine.” Wikipedia, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lost_Cement_Mine.
  • Weiser-Alexander, Kathy. “Lost Cement Gold Mine of Mammoth Mountain, California.” Legends of America, www.legendsofamerica.com.
  • “Lost Cement Mine Historical Marker.” Historical Marker Database, www.hmdb.org.
  • “The Legend of the Lost Cement Mine.” Amusing Planet, www.amusingplanet.com.
  • “Abandoned Mines in California.” U.S. Department of the Interior, www.doi.gov.

Hot Creek Geologic Site

Hot Creek Geologic Site is located near Mammoth, Lake just off the 395 Highway in Mono County, California. The stream originates from Twin Lakes in Mammoth and continues on to Lake Crowley. The site is located near and a beautiful cold water stream which is located over a geothermal vent. Warm water is heated from a magma chamber located about three miles below the earths surface and bubbles up into the steam warming the water.

Hot Creek located off the 395 highway near Mammoth in Mono County, California
Hot Creek located off the 395 highway near Mammoth in Mono County, California

The Hot Creek does offer excellent fishing opportunities and popular among fly fisherman. Fishing used to be limited to barbless hooks.

No Swimming

The stream is now closed to swimming becuase “Earthquakes can cause sudden geyser eruptions and overnight appearances of new hot springs at Hot Creek.  Water temperatures can change rapidly, and so entering the water is prohibited. ” Reports of hot water geysers up to 6 feet tall in 2006 and rapidly fluctuating temperatures apparently caused the closure of the stream to swimming.

My grandfather used to point out that some hot water vents where not in the same locations as when he was a child. Perhaps, within my life the hot springs area has become too dangerous to swim.

J Rathbun

As a child and young adult, the stream was open to swimming and my family did this routinely on almost every trip. I recall active conversations about the possibility of an geyser eruption which would kill us and we understood the risk of swimming. However, we also understood the possibility of an such an event was very remote when one considers the geologic time tables. My grandfather used to point out that some hot water vents where not in the same locations as when he was a child. Perhaps, within my life, the area has become too dangerous to swim.

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