Underground
Obsession
By Dave Helgeson
Burro Schmidt had three sisters and three brothers who died of
consumption (tuberculosis) before the age of 30, and he was
stricken himself at 24. In desperation, he asked his doctor
how to prolong his life. The doctor said, “Might go out to the high
desert in California. There you may be able to dry out your lungs
somewhat because of the low humidity and dehydration.”
Thus began the adventures of William Henry Schmidt and the
extraordinary tunnel that became his legacy.
Schmidt was born in Woonsocket, Rhode Island, in 1871 and
came to California in the 1890s. He moved to the area known as
Garlock (now a ghost town) in the El Paso Mountains, and filed
mining claims. The only access to his claims was via a rugged
canyon trail, fit only for burro travel. He bought two burros and
thereafter was known as Burro Schmidt.
Instead of hauling ore from his mine down the rugged canyon
trail, Schmidt decided to dig a tunnel through the granite mountain
to meet up with Borax Road, which ran from Death Valley to Mojave
through the Rand Mountain area and the El Paso Mountain Valley.
His drilling, blasting, and picking commenced in 1900. He labored
completely alone, carrying rock out of the tunnel on his back and
in his wheelbarrow before eventually installing steel rail tracks and
an ore car. His track leveling method was a basin of water on the
mine rails, and today the tunnel is dead straight for 2,000 feet, with
a sharp turn at the end.
The tunnel was bored through solid granite and required no
shoring, except at the entrance. Work progressed slowly. Schmidt
built a cabin near the tunnel to be closer to his work, and at some
point the tunnel mutated from a moneymaking mining venture into
a strange obsession. Schmidt would hire out on Kern River ranches
during the summer months in order to generate income to support
his tunneling.
New Road
In the 1920s, a good road was constructed through lower Last
Chance Canyon to the Dutch Cleanser Mine at Cudahy Camp near
his tunnel. It connected with the rail line from Mojave. Schmidt was
in his 50s, and for most folks, this would have been reason enough
to stop tunneling and get on with mining. But this wasn’t reason
enough for Burro Schmidt. He continued tunneling until 1938,
when daylight was finally visible through the far side of his tunnel.
Dave Helgeson
The south portal of Burro Schmidt's mine overlooks a valley.
He had made his way out of the mountain on the south side, where
he had originally planned to carry his ore out of the tunnel and
down to Mojave for assaying. But this never came to pass.
Sixty-seven years old, stooped and gnarled from 38 years of work,
Schmidt had tunneled through 2,087 feet of solid granite, using only
a pick, a shovel, a four-pound hammer, and explosives. Burro
Schmidt never used the tunnel to transport ore. He sold his claim to
another area miner, Mike Lee, and moved elsewhere in the El Paso
Mountains. “I never made a damn thing out of it,” Schmidt said.
Burro lived another 16 years. He died in January of 1954 at the
age of 83 and is buried in the nearby Johannesburg Cemetery. The
tunnel has since been entered into the National Register of Historic
Places and became a popular area attraction, even earning a spot in
Ripley’s Believe it or Not.
Various caretakers watched over the site until a dispute over
ownership arose with the Bureau of Land Management. Most of his
cabin is still standing, but there has been some awful vandalism to
this superb example of American history. Don’t let the act of some
thoughtless vandals stop you from visiting though—this is still a
fascinating place to explore.
Dave Helgeson
Burro Schmidt built his cabin near his mine in the California desert.
