The Weekend and Some Mining

Every now and then on this blog I reveal a scintillating piece of information about myself of which few people are aware.

Today I am about to tell you about my secret passion for late 19th/early 20th century mining and ghost towns -- although I believe I may have already let the cat out of the proverbial bag last year with this blog entry (scroll down to Thursday, March 15).

Paola and I had a whirlwind southern AZ sightseeing weekend, and I think I may have left her more exhausted than relaxed. However, I firmly believe that one shouldn't waste a vacation lounging around, unless you are in the Caribbean at an all-inclusive resort. And I must say that Paola is an excellent sport and willing to do just about anything that an insane tour guide throws at her.

For example...

• We hit the Sonoran Desert Museum in blowing wind and sprinkling skies and frigid (for AZ standards) temperatures.
• We sipped on too many beers and went shopping at Urban Outfitters slightly drunk.
  
• We went to the Southwest Indian Arts and Crafts Festival at the Arizona State Museum and bought things we didn't need. Plus, Paola won a raffle there and got a killer CD of some Apache flute player...

• We drank with astronomers until well past East Coast bedtime.
• We hit the rodeo with full force, enjoyed the bronco riding, and Paola walked home in some new, very kickass boots that I would have bought myself if I had an extra $130 lying around...

P's new boots... which inspire instant jealousy on my part just looking at them.

• We ate our share of Mexican food, and I introduced my muse to Sonoran hot dogs, which are ridiculously high in calories, fat, and random pig parts... and yet irresistibly delicious.
• We visited San Xavier del Bac just one hour before her flight left.

However, without a doubt, my favorite part of the entire weekend was our day trip to the southern AZ towns of Bisbee and Tombstone. Katie came along for the ride as well, and seeing as she is also a great sport and willing to do many a dorky/nerdy activity with me, she didn't complain once (or noticeably roll her eyes) when I expressed my long-time dream of taking a tour in the Queen Copper Mine in Bisbee.


Here I am with Katie in downtown Bisbee.

Here's the thing... I went to Bisbee back in 2005, right after I moved here, but we got there too late, and the mine tour was already done for the day. I was almost as crushed that day as I was when I was eight years old and learned I was too small to ride a mule into the Grand Canyon (...inspiring me to cry out, "What?!? Cindy Brady did it, and she was smaller than me!!!").

Anyway, for almost two years now, dreams of the Queen Mine tour have danced in my head, and thanks to my two fabulous friends, it finally became a reality.

Allow me now to share my dream-come-true with all of you...

The Queen Mine tour in pictures:

Our arrival...

... jeesh, I look like an old lesbian in this photo. Which I am not, by the way.

All suited up and on board the train going into the mine...

... we were on the last car.

Preparing for the descent...

... I was so excited that I took this picture myself. I enjoy the jaunty angle of Katie's hardhat.

Just prior to departure...

... the elderly, the children, and us.

A view out to our right...

... a Bisbee vista with coal cars.

The official entrance into the mine...

... which consists of six levels and hundreds of miles of track.

After riding into the mine about 1,000 feet, we stopped and climbed these tiny, cramped stairs...

... which ended in a cavernous room full of copper and silver ore.

This is my favorite photo of the day...

... Katie eying some copper veins inside the cavern.

Here's one of those copper veins...

... the mine was never fully stripped so a lot of minerals remain.

I tend to look demented when I am enthusiastic about something...

... I call this my "overexcited" face. My eyebrows raise about two full inches above my eyes, causing me to look like an ass.

Here's our charming tour guide, Juan, who worked the mine from the 1930s until the 1970s...

... he's 86 years old and in fine shape, if I don't say so myself. (That sounded a little pervy and Anna Nicole-esque, which I didn't intend, it's just that he was pretty fit for 86.)

And here is Juan about 3,000 feet into the mine, showing us how the elevator worked...

... there were all of these complicated bell tones for different floors and locations.

Paola poses next to the Mexican worker mannequin...

... as our Mexican tour guide Juan said, "Only white man and Mexican worked this mine. Mostly Mexican. No Jew. No Chinaman. No black."

I also must add here that we had one Asian woman in our tour group, and Juan asked her if she was Hawaiian, to which she responded "no." He then said "aloha" to her anyway.

And here is our grand finale photo back outside the mine...

Viva la mining!