Stay Out of That Old Mine!
By Sandin Phillipson
The allure is undeniable. A dark, yawning maw in the earth, an old mine entrance presents an irresistible invitation to the adventurous spirit. It promises a glimpse into the past, a tangible connection to an era of grit, determination, and the relentless pursuit of fortune. The imagination runs wild with possibilities: forgotten tools, glimmers of undiscovered riches, perhaps even the echoes of those who toiled within. This romantic vision, fueled by tales of the Old West and the allure of the unknown, can easily override common sense, tempting one to venture into the treacherous depths of an abandoned mine. While most prevalent in the "hard rock" Western mining states, remnants of these bygone operations can also be found in the historical lead and copper districts scattered throughout the Midwest. However, beyond the initial promise of adventure, a host of hidden dangers awaits, lurking just beyond the reach of the sunlight that penetrates the entrance.
During a geological field study in the rugged West Elk Mountains of Colorado, the author experienced firsthand the intoxicating pull of these forgotten places. The majestic 13,000-foot peaks served as a backdrop to weeks of camping and exploration, driven by tantalizing historical reports of silver mining activity dating back to the turn of the 20th century.
The landscape was dotted with remnants of these earlier mining endeavors. Some were simple adits, short tunnels bored into the mountainside, exploratory probes intended to assess the presence of valuable minerals like silver, copper, and lead within the contact zone of the mountain’s porphyry intrusive. Others, though still relatively small, exhibited a degree of sophistication, featuring narrow-gauge rail tracks extending from the mine entrances, leading to ever-growing piles of waste rock, the discarded remnants of the miners’ labor. Driven by curiosity, the author explored these openings, often navigating treacherous piles of rock that had fallen from the ceilings and walls, or widening collapsed areas and sliding down slopes of accumulated dirt and debris to reach the original mine floor. These adventures into the mines are a prime example of why you should Stay Out of That Old Mine!
This recklessness was born of youthful exuberance and a lack of awareness. Now, with years of experience in ground control engineering, the author recognizes the immense risks that were taken. Firsthand knowledge of countless fatalities in active mines, caused by unexpected rockfalls, underscores the ever-present danger of unstable ground. Modern mining practices rely on extensive engineering design and sophisticated support systems to ensure the safety and stability of underground openings. While early miners might have found some success in creating small openings in relatively hard rock, the passage of time inevitably weakens these structures, making them prone to collapse. The "old-timers" may have been lucky, but luck is not a safety net. This is a key reason why you should always Stay Out of That Old Mine!
The lack of breathable air presents another, more insidious threat. In sealed, unventilated underground environments, the air can become dangerously depleted of oxygen, stagnant and stale. Modern mines prioritize ventilation systems, carefully designed to circulate fresh air throughout the underground workings. Certain gases, often colorless and odorless, can displace oxygen, offering no warning until the individual experiences a sudden, suffocating sensation, as if they’ve been holding their breath for an extended period. This condition, known to miners as "black damp," can lead to rapid loss of consciousness and, ultimately, death. The danger of encountering "black damp" is another compelling reason to Stay Out of That Old Mine!
A harrowing experience in Bolivia brought this danger into sharp focus. While working as a geologist, the author ventured into numerous small mines in a district with a rich mining history, dating back to the Spanish colonial era and even earlier Inca civilizations, later developed by a Polish mining engineer in the early 20th century. The most recent operation in the area had ceased underground mining in the 1980s, deeming it uneconomical. However, an open-pit mine was subsequently developed, which intersected some of the older underground workings.
As part of a geological investigation, the author entered one of these mines to document the relationships between different intrusive rock phases. While intensely focused on the rock face, attempting to differentiate between rhyodacite and dacite, a strange sensation began to creep in: a warm, tingling numbness in the nose and lips. Panic surged. Instinctively, the author exhaled, held their breath, and turned to sprint back towards the mine entrance. The beam of the flashlight danced across the walls, revealing grotesque shapes formed by decaying canvas and rotting timbers. The prospect of running nearly 300 yards to the mine mouth seemed daunting, but with gray spots beginning to cloud the vision, the only option was to keep moving, to escape what might be a pocket of deadly gas.
Then, a glimmer of hope: a sliver of light where the floor of the open pit intersected the tunnel. Fresh air! The author scrambled towards the opening, gulping in the thin mountain air. Though the air carried the acrid smell of decaying sulfides, the immediate threat of black damp had passed, allowing panic to subside and enabling a brisk walk out of the mine. This close call served as a stark reminder of the unpredictable and potentially lethal hazards hidden within abandoned mines, further reinforcing the need to Stay Out of That Old Mine!
Entering an old mine that hasn’t been inspected or assessed by miners or engineers in decades is, in retrospect, an act of profound foolishness. No shiny trinket, no rusty artifact, is worth risking one’s life. Take a photograph of that beckoning hole, capture its image, and then leave it undisturbed. Remember that the "old-timers" have already extracted the rock and discarded it on the surface. If a souvenir is truly desired, satisfy the urge with a small piece of azurite, malachite, chalcopyrite, or pyrite from the dump pile. Admire it, study it, but always remember to Stay Out of That Old Mine! The inherent risks and the potential for disaster far outweigh any perceived reward.
Sandin Phillipson, Ezine Articles, added August 2005, updated January 2024.
About The Author: Sandin Phillipson is a geologist who has visited several countries in Latin America and Europe and worked on various civil engineering and mining-related projects in the U.S. and elsewhere. He has published in scientific journals, but I thought it would be fun to write about some of his travel experiences on a more informal level.
Also See:
Ghost Towns & Mining Camps Across America
Ghost Town Photo Gallery
Miners’ Ten Commandments
Destinations, Tips, & More