Everybody knew that the hills of Nevada had been scoured by countless prospectors and that most deposits exposed at the surface had been discovered. But workable deposits are rare, and scattered over the landscape. Aim Morhardt, a landscape painter from Bishop, Calif., expressed the situation well in his poem “Mining”:
The Lord was very liberal
In spreading rocks and sand . . .
but when He put the pay dirt in
He used a sparing hand!
Aim Morhardt, A Thousand Acres of Nothing, 1968
During the early 1940s, there was little mining in Nevada. Although gold mining had increased when, in 1934, President Franklin Roosevelt raised the price to US$35 from US$20.67 per ounce, most of the moribund mines in Nevada were not affected.
Nonetheless, a few placer mines were temporarily reactivated, and some kept going for a few years. Because most lode mines, veins, and replacement deposits needed extensive rehabilitation, only a few were put into operation at the time. These few mines contained ore of fairly good grade, in the range of 0.2 to 0.5 ounce gold per ton, and they could be mined using open-pit methods. Getchell, Adelaide, Gold Acres, and Bootstrap were typical of the mines rich enough to be put into production in the 1930s.
Then, in 1942, even these mines were closed, by War Production Board (WPB) Regulation L-2O8, for the duration of the Second World War. The WPB wanted miners to produce strategic metals and assist with other specialized tasks; it did not consider gold and silver strategic metals. Mining did continue at Copper Canyon, because industry needed copper. In spite of these events, I saw a great potential for mineral deposits in the Copper Canyon and Copper Basin areas.
In my treks around Galena in the summer of 1941, I had noted the remarkable lithology of the conglomerate later named the Battle Formation. A review of the early mining history revealed that the site of Galena had been chosen by silver miners who had discovered rich silver shoots in the conglomerate during the 1870s. Sadly, the ore had played out at shallow depths, but a few mines had been particularly profitable for a number of years.
This mineralization was significant to me for it presaged richer ore somewhere. With mounting excitement, I traced this conglomerate for about three miles to the south, noting prospect pits every so often, but no extensive workings. This indicated that mineralization continued, at least sporadically, to the Copper Canyon copper-gold mine, operated by the Anaconda Copper Company.
In accordance with mining protocol, I went directly to the mine office and introduced myself to the geologists there. The two men, project manager Robert Moehlman and John Collins, cordially invited me to lunch. During the meal in the mess hall, I mentioned that I had studied the mines at Galena and along the ridge to the south of Galena. I also mentioned that I had a hunch where the orebodies in Copper Canyon might be within the stratigraphic column. I asked Moehlman if I could go underground and see the orebody. He told me he would have to forward my request to the company’s office in Salt Lake City, Utah.
A few days later, I received my answer: a resounding “No.” Sometime later, in Salt Lake City, I went to the Anaconda office and talked with Tom Lyon, the man in charge of the Copper Canyon project. He listened to my story but replied that the project is “high Anaconda security, and we do not want to discuss it with anyone. If two people know a secret, then it is no longer a secret! The answer is, you cannot go underground.” So, that was that, but I knew that the war would end one day, and Anaconda would leave the Copper Canyon mine. I continued reconnaissance forays around Galena for a few more days, then returned to Winnemucca, Nev.
Anaconda’s rebuff not only failed to deter me; it fueled my interest for the job at hand, which was working out details of rock relationships, ore controls, and the position of deposits in the regional picture. I knew then what I wanted to do in geology — I wanted to look for deposits, including both base and precious metals, in the Sonoma Range quadrangle.
I had been in the field in Nevada during the summer of 1941 when, to my surprise, a letter arrived from Arleda Allen telling me she had returned her suitor’s ring and was interested in seeing me again. We began a steady correspondence, but several months went by before we got together. Finally we met again in the fall of 1941 in Helena, Mont., where Arleda was still teaching. On the second night of my visit, I took her to dinner, and before we had even finished dessert I proposed to her. She accepted immediately; we were engaged on our very first date, and married the following year.
In September 1942, we packed a few essentials and headed to Nevada so I could continue work on a quicksilver project in the Ivanhoe district, about fifty miles north of Battle Mountain.
This was an adventure for us. We drove for miles through the desert, passing only sagebrush, until we reached the Butte mine. Bob Morris, the mine manager, greeted us and showed us where we could pitch our tent. The miners greeted us warmly but without much ado. We settled into the life of a mining camp quite easily, even though, as newlyweds, we were a novelty. In fact, Arleda was one of the few women for miles around.
We ate our meals with the miners in the mess tent. The food was simple but hearty. Although some may think it odd to take a new bride into such rugged terrain to live in a tent alongside a bunch of crusty miners, Arleda was no shrinking violet. She had lived many summers in the Little Rockies, riding horses into steep mountainous terrain, and she had developed a muscular physique, so she was as at home in my world, the hills of Nevada, as she was in Washington, D.C.
— Ralph Roberts worked with the U.S. Geological Survey for 44 years, in the western U.S., Central America and the Middle East. In 1981, he was a founding partner of exploration consulting firm Victor E. Kral Associates. This is the first in a series of excerpts from his recent book, A Passion for Gold: An Autobiography, published by the University of Nevada Press.
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