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.
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.
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.
The abandoned Skidoo Mill, high in the Panamint Mountains of Death Valley National Park
I have been out to the site of the old ghost town of Skidoo a few times. Oddly perhaps, snow has played a part in more than half of my visits—not what you might expect for a desert region like Death Valley. The first time I went there I really did not know much about the place at all, and I drove the nine mile gravel road more or less on a whim, arriving at the broad valley where the main town was, finding little there, poking around a bit, and leaving, a bit disappointed. (I did have a chance to investigate some other historical sites in the area on the same trip, so in the end I didn’t feel cheated.) More recently I visited last winter, during a very cold trip to the park when I encountered sub-freezing temperature down in Death Valley itself and colder temperature well down into the teens up here. Parts of the road were covered by shallow snow, and it was a quiet and lonely experience to be out there alone in the snow. This time I poked around a bit more, exploring some side trails and nearby ridges, until I decided that it was best not to push too far with the snow on the ground.
This past April we were there again, on a day full of interesting experiences and adventures. I often spend at least a day up in the Panamint Range when I visit the park, and I always find new and interesting things, but I don’t think I’ve ever encountered such a range of conditions and subjects in a single day before. We started before dawn and had a brief moment of sunrise light before the clouds of an incoming storm turned out the lights. Very soon we began to see snow flurries along the Panamint ridge and other summits, and soon after visiting one historic site it began to snow in earnest. We headed toward a higher location and finally had to back down as the snow continued to fall. Surprisingly, in these cold conditions and snow we found… abundant wildflowers! We stopped several times to photograph the unexpected display, and then decided to make the side trip to Skidoo as the storm passed and the sun came out. Once there we pushed out past the town site to the location of the old mill, where ore from the mines was processed. The mill, long abandoned and deteriorating now, is an astonishing thing. Its location is unexpected and stunning. It sits right below the crest of a steep ridge and the structure stretches down toward a deep valley below—and the entire site overlooks a vast and arid desert landscape, a bit of which is visible in this photograph. Even more amazing, this mill was powered by water, not at all what you would expect in such a dry and desolate place. But the miners ran a pipeline over 20 miles from a spring elsewhere in the high Panamints to get water to supply power and for the domestic use of the town’s residents.
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. Blog | About | Flickr | Twitter | Facebook | Google+ | 500px.com | LinkedIn | Email
Photographer and visual opportunist. Daily photos since 2005, plus articles, reviews, news, and ideas.
Manage Consent
To provide the best experiences, we use technologies like cookies to store and/or access device information. Consenting to these technologies will allow us to process data such as browsing behavior or unique IDs on this site. Not consenting or withdrawing consent, may adversely affect certain features and functions.
Functional
Always active
The technical storage or access is strictly necessary for the legitimate purpose of enabling the use of a specific service explicitly requested by the subscriber or user, or for the sole purpose of carrying out the transmission of a communication over an electronic communications network.
Preferences
The technical storage or access is necessary for the legitimate purpose of storing preferences that are not requested by the subscriber or user.
Statistics
The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for statistical purposes.The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for anonymous statistical purposes. Without a subpoena, voluntary compliance on the part of your Internet Service Provider, or additional records from a third party, information stored or retrieved for this purpose alone cannot usually be used to identify you.
Marketing
The technical storage or access is required to create user profiles to send advertising, or to track the user on a website or across several websites for similar marketing purposes.
