Will the Real Castle Rock Please Stand Up? by Zina Abbott

 

 

There tends to be place names or other identifier names that are used over and over. Some places in the United States and Canada are named to remind immigrants of the town or locality from which they came. Others receive their name because they remind people of something. This second instance must be behind there being so many rock outcroppings known as Castle Rock.

I thought I wrote a blog post about a Castle Rock several years ago. It turns out the rock formation is known as Castle Dome (close, not a rock) in the Arizona desert not too far north of Yuma. 

Then, this past year, I wrote three books for the same series involving stagecoach travel in frontier Kansas in the late 1860s. In the third book, Mail Order Penelope, my mail order bride travels farther west than the other two, and encounters a large rock formation called Castle Rock.

Formed of limestone deposited in a great ancient inland sea, this pillar was formed by weathering of both wind and water after the sea disappeared. It became a landmark for the Butterfield Overland Despatch stagecoach line along the Smoky Hill River in Gove County, Kansas.

About that inland sea. It played a huge role in the formation of the Great Plains of the United States. The Western Interior Seaway, also known as the Cretaceous Seaway and other names, was a large body of water that split the continent of North America into two landmasses. If you look carefully at the map, you can see which states and provinces were affected. It explains why some regions have nice alluvial soil that allows for easy farming, and why other regions have a relatively thinner soil base that is better suited for raising cattle. Also, many of the famous rock formations throughout this region were all formed under the same conditions as Castle Rock in Kansas (and Wyoming, but we aren't there yet).

I have discovered, just in the United States, there are other Castle Rocks.

 

 

There is Castle Rock, Michigan, which is also a geological limestone stack. It is three miles north of St. Ignace, Michigan on Michigan's Upper Peninsula. This particular rock formation came about as a result of post glacial ice melt which eroded much of the land. It has been advertised as "Ojibway's Lookout.” I did write about some Ojibwa characters in my book, Gift of Restitution: A Story for Christmas, However, I did not include any reference to this Castle Rock.

Way to the west, out of the line of the ancient sea mentioned above, there is a Castle Rock at Lake Havasu in Arizona. I did not find a public domain image for it, but you may see it on a website by clicking HERE.

There is Castle Rock near Glenbrook, Nevada.

There is a Castle Rock and accompanying town by the same name along the Columbia River in Washington State.

 

There is a Castle Rock in Colorado. 

This butte, in the Colorado Piedmont region of the Great Plains, was in the land once covered by the great inland sea. About 58 million years ago, a volcanic eruption took place that covered the area around Castle Rock with 20 feet of rhyolite, a mineral that is strongly resistant to erosion.. This butte's caprock consists of rhyolite which meant, even after a few million years of mass flooding and erosion, the volcanic rock gave way to the castle-shaped butte visible today.

I was not done with Castle Rocks during my writing adventures of this year. There is one more in Wyoming next to the Green River.

During a promotional event on Facebook, I announced that I was prepared to write my last book for the year, a Christmas book titled A Shopkeeper for Christmas. I had everything except a locality and suggested two options. The choice by a two-to-one margin was Green River, Wyoming.

Castle Rock near Green River today.

 

The symbol for Green River happens to be—you guessed it—Castle Rock. Even as long ago in Ichabod S. Barlett’s 1890s book about the history of Wyoming, this rock formation was called by that name. 

However, a review of the famous image of the Union Pacific Railroad building the bridge over the Green River identifies it under another name, Citadel Rock.

CitadelRockGreenRiverWyoming 1868 by photographer Russell J. Andrews.-LOC

Citadel Rock is the name I used for this rock formation in my book, A Shopkeeper for Christmas, set in 1872, four years after the Union Pacific built the line. 

 

Green River in 1876

The railroad company originally bypassed the community of Green River because several enterprising men already gained title to the land next to the river before the railroad got there. The UPRR set up their division point and roundhouse several miles away at Black’s Fork where they could control the land sales and the city. However, when Black’s Fork dried up, the railroad company was forced to move their division point to Green River with its reliable water source. It is within months of this move that my story takes place under the watchful guard of Citadel Rock, which, alas, somehow went through a name change and is now known by the name of Castle Rock.

Although I have covered several Castle Rocks, I know there are probably others.

 

 My latest book, A Shopkeeper for Christmas is a more light-hearted romance full of head-shaking moments thanks to Aunt Aggie and a mischievous seven-year-old boy, Willie. Please click on the title to find the book description.

 

 

My other Christmas book, Gift of Restitution, is perhaps a little more thought-provoking, and focuses more on acts and gifts that can bring joy at Christmas. Again, please click on the title to find the book description.

 

To find all my books, including the three that involved stagecoach travel along the Kansas plains, please CLICK HERE.

 

Most of my information came from Wikipedia, Library of Congress, Wikimedia Commons, and http://pleinairjourney.com/2015/01/lake-havasu/

 

CASTLE DOME CITY by Zina Abbott

On my way to Tucson, Arizona to attend the Women Writing the West conference this past month, my husband and I stayed a couple of nights in Yuma. Not everyone gets excited about visiting the old Yuma Territorial Prison, but I made a special point to go. 

We also visited an old silver (and lead) mining town up Highway 95 in the middle of nowhere. My husband and I drove over MILES of gravel road through a military bombing range with multiple signs warning drivers to not leave the road due to unexploded ordinance. Trust me, in spite of large rocks and sections of washboard, we stayed on the road. We were rewarded when finally we reached the site of the restored mining town with its buildings and displays.

As mineral deposits began to be discovered up and down the Colorado River in the early 1860s, numerous mining camps and steamboat ports grew into towns along the river. Heading north from Yuma, prospectors staked gold and silver claims along the river and in the surrounding mountains.

Castle Dome, first known as Pitoti after a weed thought to be found only in that area, was later named Castle Dome after the nearby mountain range with its distinctive dome. A post office was established in that name on December 17, 1875. Less than a year later, however, the post office was discontinued on December 4, 1876.

When the first Americans reached the Castle Dome Mountains in the early 1860s, there were already signs of previous mining activity. It was generally believed that Native tribes had engaged in mining in the Castle Dome Mountains some years before and backpacked the ore 18 miles (29 km) south to a processing site on the banks of the Gila River, where remnants of adobe furnaces were found.
 

Ctsy of AmericanExpeditioner.com

The Castle Dome Mining Company, established in 1863 and owned by Jacob Snively, purchased many of these claims and planned out the site of Castle Dome Landing on the banks of the Colorado River to act as a shipping point for ore on its way to San Francisco, California for smelting. Castle Dome City was created by Jacob Shively who at age 53 came to the Castle Dome region in 1862 because he had heard of the rich silver galena deposits in the area. His first order of business was to establish peace through creating the mining district for the region.

 

Seamstress shop in far back, blacksmith and machine shop

As miners came and filed claims, Castle Dome City was create, more by default than by active city planning. It was a spread out town as the huge silver galena ore vein runs about six miles.
 

Inside of the one of the mercantile stores

The first description of Castle Dome City in 1864 was: a brush house, and adobe under construction, two tents and two fenced in lots. As the years rolled by, Castle Dome boasted of a school, 5 bars within a mile, 2 mercantile stores, a church or 2, sheriff’s office and jail, “doc’s” offices, assay office mining offices, entertainment spots (“showplace” and brothel), blacksmith shop and numerous dwellings for families and miners. Those ranged from houses (some had a fireplace), to piles of rocks stacked up on a rock wall, blasted out caves, and many made home sweet home in a mine. Through the years these structures were recycled, moved, fixed up, burned down, and some were left to just fall apart.

 

Flora Temple mine

Castle Dome and Flora Temple Mines – the old Castle Dome claim with at least 7 shafts was patented in 1876 whereas the Flora Temple mine has the distinction of being the second claim ever patented in Arizona in 1871. The hopper is all that is left.

Though prospecting and planning commenced years earlier, modern mining in the area didn't begin in earnest until 1869 due to hostilities with Native Americans.

Mine windlass painting on display at Castle Dome

Castle Dome’s silver averaged about 45 oz. per ton, which was enough silver to assure the miners of a good profit. Lead is a bi-product and “helped” the profits. However, in the 19^th century, the mines would not have been successful with just lead.

 

Flora Temple Bar ca. 1871 - Note lead-pane glass window trim.

That all changed during WW1 and WW2. The lead was the metal needed for the war effort. There were more people living in Castle Dome City during the years of those two wars than had lived in the area at the time silver mining was big.

 

Hotel & Stagecoach Depot

The Castle Dome District had 300 major mines.

 

Hotel lobby display

From 1864 to 1979 the district’s ore was mined successfully. However, in 1976 the price of silver plummeted it was no longer profitable to mine silver-galena; the process to separate the silver from the lead cost more than the silver was worth. Thus, Castle Dome’s mines closed.  For the most part the town was abandoned. Eventually Fish and Wildlife decided to demolish all that was left (except for Big Eye mine).

Using old photographs from earlier times, Castle Dome City today has been restored to represent what it was like before it was demolished, although many of the buildings are closer together than they were originally.

Sources:

Castle Dome Mining Museum displays

Armstrong, Stephanie, Only the Rugged Need Reply-The History of the Castle Dome Mining District

Wikipedia

I chose to write about Castle Dome because it is a silver mining town, the same as the hypothetical silver mining town, Jubilee Springs, Colorado, the locality of the Sweethearts of Jubilee Springs series. That said, my most recently-published novella in this series, Evasive Eddie Joe, is about a cowboy who works for the Jacobson Ranch in nearby Monarch Bend. Eddie Joe does come to Jubilee Springs the day of the Harvest Dance to meet his bride he sent for, which stirs up a controversy with the miners waiting for brides. 

To read more about or purchase Evasive Eddie Joe please CLICK HERE.

This is my second book in the Harvest Dance cluster. My first is Dead Set Delphinia. To read more about this book, please CLICK HERE.

An Arizona Private Ghost Town called Castle Dome

and how we stumbled upon this hidden gem.

 

Only a four hour drive away from where we live in the southern California mountains is Yuma, Arizona so off my husband and I headed for a much-needed weekend away. I’m the type who travels with paper maps and the AAA travel guide with all the rated attractions marked with sticky labels. My husband has all he needs in his smart phone and a couple of review sites. Because we didn’t leave until after 6PM, he begrudgingly agreed to calling ahead for a motel reservation. I use the term ‘begrudgingly’ because his birth family set out on the road for the entire summer, Suburban hauling a trailer, as soon as school let out, so he’s used to driving until tired and then looking for a place to stay. Me, I like national chains for motels and restaurants.

Our first day was spent at a couple of state museums—the quartermaster depot and the territorial prison. We learned some interesting facts that may come in handy in a book someday. But he wanted someplace different so he started cruising around on his phone. So the next day we took a different route, past the Arizona proving grounds toward Castle Dome, a mining ghost town. Once off the state highway at mile marker 55 for only a couple of miles, the paved road ended and we rolled onto a gravel road. My reaction was concern about our Prius navigating the road unharmed. My adventure-loving spouse told me to go for it. Eight miles later (paralleling a barbed wire fence warning “Danger--unexploded ordnance”--gulp), we reached the ghost town.

A couple ready to retire, Allen and Stephanie Armstrong, bought the site where gold mining occurred in the 1860s and set about creating this village of 40+ buildings out in the middle of nowhere. By nowhere, I mean the ride by stagecoach from Yuma must have taken an entire day, or maybe they camped out for one night. The terrain is desert complete with saguaro and prickly pear cactus and mesquite bushes. And lots of dust and rocks. From a note in one of the buildings—“the first description of Castle Dome City was of a brush house, an adobe under construction, 2 tents, and 2 fenced in lots. Over the years, Castle Dome boasted of a school, 5 bars within a mile, [city stretched along a river] two mercantiles, a church or 2, sheriff’s office and jail, assay and mining offices, entertainment spots, blacksmith shop and numerous dwellings.”

The Armstrongs fixed up what was there, brought buildings from other mining ghost towns or from federal property to this location and recreated what Castle Dome might have looked like in its heyday when its population exceeded 5,000 and was greater than Yuma. But as with a litany of long-forgotten mining towns, when the shiny gold played out, the inhabitants drifted away to their next money-making opportunity.  The Armstrongs are to be commended because each and every building held artifacts of the era. A self-guided tour gave us (and the dozen other visitors we saw) a sense of the people who chose to live there. As I walked among the buildings, I could picture the interactions between the business owners and started imagining the backstories of those long-ago inhabitants.

Here is the exterior of one of the bars and a couple interior shots of the mercantile. Can you imagine a time when what was on the shelves made up the total of your selections?

 

I guess if you’re a history lover, then what better way to demonstrate that than by creating a living museum? I'm always interested in learning of other living museum sites. Please share where you've been.

Linda Carroll-Bradd’s latest release is A Cowboy Celebration, a western historical anthology from Prairie Rose Publications. Check out her website for other titles www.lindacarroll-bradd.com or sign up for her newsletter to learn of upcoming releases (2 in October).