Reflections, notes, and comments on rural Nevada...

Abandoned places

You may have noted that I don't use the phrase 'ghost towns' when talking about the various towns described in these pages. I don't do this because I feel that the term 'ghost towns' overly-romanticizes both the locations and why the towns are now empty.  These towns (and mines, military posts, and military airfields) were harsh places to live with dangerous or difficult working conditions, sometimes lawless communities (in the case of the mining towns), and extreme weather conditions.  And, 'abandoned' is exactly what happened -- mines ran out of ore, the market for the metal fell, the military no longer needed the space -- large institutions (corporations and the government) essentially walked out without any strong efforts to solve the problems that would result from such abandonment. People whose lives had been dislocated when they moved to the towns to work had their lives dislocated again as the work ended, and areas that once had clear-flowing streams and green forests were left polluted and barren. 

Clearly this is standard practice in most economies and may simply be a 'fact of life' -- but the contrast between the stark beauty of the region and the ruins highlights the need to avoid papering over the reality with romantic terms. 

Mining

Throughout the West it is easy to see the effects on the environment of mineral extraction.  What you see most in Nevada is the effects of mining for gold, silver, copper, and industrial minerals.  Nevada, in fact, produces 83% of the gold mined in the U.S. and 9% of the gold mined in the world (see http://www.nbmg.unr.edu/dox/mi/05.pdf).

I'm no expert on mining, so the following thoughts are just an amalgamation of what I've read while traveling across the West.  The first big mining rush in Nevada, in the late 1800's, appears to have mainly involved digging mines into the side of mountains.  The environmental damage from the mining had less to do with the mine itself, than with the processing of the ore.  Vast amounts of wood were cut (to convert to charcoal in the charcoal kilns shown on various pages) and large amounts of water were diverted for use in smelting.  This mining thus altered the natural areas for animals, fish, and birds.

Modern mining is generally quite different, involving the use of large earthmovers to excavate very large tracts of land.  Entire mountains are dug up and pulverized just to extract relatively small amounts of minerals using very elaborate smelting processes.  Though the smelting processes are much cleaner and environmentally friendlier than in the past, the size of the operations still result in vast amounts of noxious (and polluting) waste -- and it is difficult not to be disturbed by the vast tracts of land (and natural animal habitat) that are destroyed in the process. 

When I'm out in some abandoned mining area and thinking these thoughts, I regularly remind myself that everything I'm doing there is part of this cycle -- the car I used to get there and the camera I use to record the experience would not exist without some manufacturer having had access to the same sorts of minerals that were extracted in the past.  We can't avoid the problems involved by extracting minerals and creating waste -- but we can try to limit it by limiting our consumption overall, supporting appropriate regulation of the extraction industries, and by buying from environmentally conscientious organizations. 

Prostitution

It is difficult to travel around rural Nevada and ignore the fact that prostitution is legal in much of Nevada -- it's relatively common to see signs for brothels, particularly along major trucking routes.  I'm not going to comment on the ethics of brothels other than to note that the difference between Nevada and many other states may simply be that it's legal and regulated.  There are, however, some interesting common characteristics of the brothels that I've passed.  For one, many of the brothels that I've seen have been in remote locations, typically at least a couple of miles away from the nearest town or village (the brothel in Ely is the exception to this) -- this might be because local politicians don't want them in their towns, or it might be because customers don't want to be seen by locals.   Secondly, these remote brothels also typically look relatively desperate, usually consisting of some combination of houses that look sort of rundown and older mobile homes -- BUT, it is important to note that quite a bit of rural housing in similar parts of Nevada (or much of the West) looks the same way.  Third, and contradicting the previous statement about the conditions of the housing at brothels, it is somewhat of a surprise to find that many of them seem to have small airstrips nearby.  Many (except again the one in the center of Ely), have a windsock and a cleared area where a small plane could land or could park after having landed on a nearby road -- and two have abandoned planes near the entrance to the brothel.  Considering that rates at brothels are purportedly $500 or more, it may be that some customers fly in.

Why?

So, why this fascination with rural Nevada?  For one, it's a good window on American history -- the struggles that went into (and continue to go into) building a regional and national identity, and the cavalier attitudes of many of the corporate and governmental players who had/have a hand in that struggle.  Also, it brings up interesting quandaries about our national psychology.  What must it have been like to develop a sense of community and self in boom-bust times when people moved from mining town to mining town and had no regular place to call 'home'?  What is it now that makes people want to stay in (or move into) these abandoned towns where there is essentially no work?  What is it that makes the sense of community so strong in places so remote and isolated as Pioche or Gold Point?  What are the lives of the women (and their customers) in these very remote brothels? 

Clearly the fact that people survive (and thrive) in such places illustrates that much of the stability and safety that we take for granted in contemporary life is not necessary for survival.  Sensing this, it becomes clearer that many the anxieties we have about modern life are not all that important.