Category Archives: Photographs: Ghost Towns

Abandoned Mill

Abandoned Mill
An abandoned mill on a steep slope high in the Panamint Mountains.

Abandoned Mill. © Copyright 2023 G Dan Mitchell.

An abandoned mill on a steep slope high in the Panamint Mountains.

For someone like me, the first instinct is to think of Death Valley National Park as being mostly wilderness, and then to associate that with the idea that it is a place of little or no human presence. In truth there’s virtually no place in the world where we have not left a mark… and there are many examples in this park. They range from evidence of long-ago native populations and their descendants who still live there to the rather astonishing number of old mining sites. No matter where you go in this park., you are bound to see these things.

In the latter category is the site of Skidoo, where there was once a real town and lots of mining and ore refining… in just about the most unlikely location imaginable. It was near the summit of high desert mountains, far from any paved roads. The ruins of the water-powered mill (an astounding story too long to relate here) sit on a steep hillside, overlooking a remarkable expanse of rugged desert terrain and mountains that extends to the distant peaks of the Sierra Nevada.


G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” is available from Heyday Books, Amazon, and directly from G Dan Mitchell.

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Abandoned Mill

Abandoned Mill
The ruins of an abandoned mill in the desert backcountry

Abandoned Mill. Desert Mountains, California. April 4, 2017. © Copyright 2017 G Dan Mitchell – all rights reserved.

The ruins of an abandoned mill in the California desert backcountry

During the nearly twenty years since I first “discovered” California deserts, my experience with them has changed. To be honest, as a person largely focused on the coast and the Sierra, when I was younger I didn’t really know much about these wild places, and I wasn’t really attracted to them. It wasn’t until the late 1990s that I actually made a serious visit and began to “get it” about the things that make these areas so marvelous. At first, like almost anyone else, I focused on some of the most obvious and iconic places. But eventually as I returned to these places, especially to Death Valley National Park, I began to push out my boundaries bit by bit. As I did so I discovered many more interesting things about these places, both the natural wilderness and the human history. One of the first experiences that connected me to the human history was an accident. One evening I wandered away from a camp and just sat down on a boulder in an elevated location on an alluvial fan. I happened to look down to see an unusual rock. I picked it up and quickly realized that it was a cutting implement left their by the earliest people to make their lives here — and my notions of the depth and variety of human experience in the desert was profoundly altered.

That human influence has many facets. Certainly the experience of the people we now refer to as “native Americans” is central. (I like Canada’s term: “first people.”) Later settlers showed up for a range of reasons — pioneers passing through, prospectors chasing the dream of the big strike, folks looking for a job, people not well suited to living in the civilized world, and other. They all left traces. The prospectors and miners left lots of them all over the desert landscape, and you can’t travel around these places without running into it. The photograph is a detail from one amazing structure high on a desert ridge, abandoned only recently in the context of the larger scale of history, but still putting us in touch with an era that is mostly gone now from these places.


G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” is available from Heyday Books and Amazon.
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All media © Copyright G Dan Mitchell and others as indicated. Any use requires advance permission from G Dan Mitchell.

Abandoned Stamp Mill

Abandoned Stamp Mill
An abandoned water-powered stamp mill high in the Panamint Range, Death Valley National Park

Abandoned Stamp Mill. Death Valley National Park, California. April 4, 2017. © Copyright 2017 G Dan Mitchell – all rights reserved.

An abandoned water-powered stamp mill high in the Panamint Range, Death Valley National Park

It seems that every national park or monument has both a natural and human story, or perhaps what might be seen as a story about the relationship between the two. While the power of natural forces (heat, water, geology, and more) is abundantly obvious in the huge, austere landscape of Death Valley National Park, the human history of the place is rarely far from view. It begins with the evidence of people who lived here long before European-origin settlers came to the place, evidence that can be seen in rock art scattered throughout the park, in the recognition that many settlements (current and now-abandoned) have a very much longer history than we may think, and in the remnants of those earlier populations who still occupy and identify with this landscape.

Perhaps more obvious is the more recent history of those who came to look for mining success. (There are places in the park where this still takes place.) Some examples are obvious to the casual visitor, but the more time you spend in the back-country area of the park the more you understand that this particular history is everywhere — though not usually as obvious as this example. This stamp mill, built to crush gold ore, is amazing in a number of ways. Perched at the end of high ridge in rather remote location, it was powered in the most unlikely manner… by water piped in from a spring over twenty miles away. The location is stupendous, and it is easy to think that practical issues may not have been the only considerations in choosing the site. From here one can look down thousands of feet to broad alluvial slopes leading towards Death Valley, but one can also look further into the distance and see the snow-covered peaks of the Sierra Nevada.


G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” is available from Heyday Books and Amazon.
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All media © Copyright G Dan Mitchell and others as indicated. Any use requires advance permission from G Dan Mitchell.

Rusting Building, Leadfield

Rusting Building, Leadfield
Rusting Building, Leadfield

Rusting Building, Leadfield. Death Valley National Park, California. April 1, 2014. © Copyright 2014 G Dan Mitchell – all rights reserved.

A rusting corrugated building, one of the few remaining structures at the ghost town of Leadfield, California

This is one of the few standing structures remaining from the boom town of Leadfield, in the backcountry of Death Valley National Park, in the Grapevine Mountains more or less midway between the Beatty, Nevada area and the main Death Valley. The standard story is that this town was the result of one of the biggest swindles and scams in the mining history of the area, and the story is often told of the main promoter salting the mine with ore brought in from other locations and producing brochures featuring boats on the Amargosa River… which is typically completely dry. In the process of preparing this photograph to share I did a bit of reading, and it seems like the story might not be quite so simple nor so dramatic. Apparently there was a history of prospecting and mining in this area before the town was created in the mid-1920s, and lead and perhaps silver were actually mined from the place. A range of problems led to its downfall—the distance the ore needed to be transported, problems with the sale of shares in the mines—but it may not be true that the mine itself was essentially just a scam.

This building is well-known to those who have visited the place, as it is one of two buildings that still stand. Both are located near the entrance to one of the mine shafts, and it seems likely that this was not a residence but rather some building related to mine operations. Today it is a mere shell, but I find it amazing that it still stands nearly 90 years after the “town” (which apparently consisted largely of tents) was abandoned. Even more amazing is to stand at this spot and look out at the surrounding landscape—a rugged and uncompromising mountainous desert terrain—and imagine what it must have been like to live and work in such a place.

G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist whose subjects include the Pacific coast, redwood forests, central California oak/grasslands, the Sierra Nevada, California deserts, urban landscapes, night photography, and more.
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Text, photographs, and other media are © Copyright G Dan Mitchell (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from G Dan Mitchell.