Ghost Town, Ark

"The Ghost town of Rush stands as a mute testimony to the activity of a bygone era.

Zinc carbonate ores were discovered in (the) valley in the late 1890's and the "rush" was on. Soon the hillsides were dotted with mines- sprouting colourful names such as Morning Star, White Eagle, Monte Cristo, Red Cloud, Buelah, Macintosh, Edith and Yellow Rose."

The town is fascinating- but for only a quick moment. A short row of four or five buildings awaits the visitor in the remote Ozark valley of rush. Only a few miles from Hwy 14- this side trip is well worth the left turn from Caney. The Buffalo is in early spring now- Redbuds and anemone's make for a pleasant break from Kansas City's latest bout of winter. The river, in Rush valley, is much larger than the Buffalo I know in Ponca. Still, it is beautiful and clean-looking. A slight green, milky colour today- some good rains lately. The river was the first thing I visited on my trip to Rush. I came to see the mines and did not know that the river was here!

I arrived far too late to brave the unfamiliar trails above the river a spent a sunny, pleasant afternoon by the river. Everything seems pretty soaked and soggy, but a tarp was enough to keep my tent dry on a high-spot of the washed-out campground.

The birds were goin'- it was nice to hear them after the silent winter months. They shouted MORNING, but the smooth walls of the tent were not light enough. My pillow was moist-going on damp, and the bag was wet...

I wanted to believe that the birds were wrong- and that I had time to roll over and space out for a while longer- but a cold, wet sleeping-bag was a miserable thing that I could not ignore. The zipper gave the usual struggle and the bag peeled off of me- I guess that I was already cold enough and the chilly air offered no surprise. I wondered if the grounds had flooded- things were a bit too wet for me to assume that a nightly dew was responsible. Had the river come over it's banks? Had it rained enough to overcome my shallow island?

Sure enough- it was the dew; a thick, slow-rolling fog dominated the valley. It was at first a bit disappointing- and truly weird to feel a light breeze accompany such a stagnant visual. A few finch-things livened up the river-side of my camp, but things were otherwise very still-looking.

I spent a few moments walking the bank of the Buffalo and then cut up a small, flowing stream. It didn't seem like I would see the sun today.

The low bridge leading into the NPS campground had flooded overnight- not threateningly so, but enough to send a loud, shattering wall of water over the top of the truck when I drove over. The flooded portion of the road was dry last night- it was very swift over the road, but covered only fifteen feet or so of road.

I rolled back towards the little town and walked around the few buildings. The dawn's thick clouds have certainly transformed the abandon, rotting buildings! I think it adds something to the sense of dead I found in the town- like it made the ghost-town even ghostlier. The top photo is of the post office/general store as it stood and functioned until only a half-century ago.The trail was short and easy- the old mines and relics of sorts lined every inch. An old ore cart lies off one side of the trail.. stiffened by rust and protected by the high wall that it served to create. Ore tracks- complete with mini-railroad-spikes- were abundant. These too were dying.
I explored around some of the old mine deposits- small bits of lustrous sphalerite were everywhere. Miners called this "Rosin Jack" and relied on it after the depletion of richer Smithsonite ores. Smithsonite was not too hard to find either- "turkey fat" was the name given to the bright yellow, bubbly, fatty-looking zinc crystals. One excellent vein runs down the wall of a bus-sized boulder up-hill of the largest mill.

Rush is a National Parks area though- and it is illegal to enter mines or to collect any of the gravel-sized bits of zinc or laying around. Signs that read DANGER KEEP OUT were posted in front of several mines that'd been gated or locked for the protection of visitors and bats alike. Up and down the hill here- and even across the river- there are many smaller digs and tunnels from early mining operations. The larger ones are big enough to walk in, and are blocked only where they have caved-in on themselves. Cave-ins were a scary part of Rush's history, and occurred more frequently when sophisticated blasting and drilling techniques were introduced to the valley shortly after WWI started. Such things became necessary when miners were forced to dig deeper into the mountain to fetch the ores.

I spent hours pacing the areas above and below the mines- crystals, minerals, old mining equiptment- it was all to be found. An ancient coke bottle and a HUGE platte of druzy quartz were my most memorable finds...

The fog lifted by mid-afternoon, but the sun remained hidden.. High clouds turned into stormy ones and the long ride from rush was gifted with all sorts of wonderful weather happenings...

Awsome clouds over the boston mountains and a thin, twisting rope tornado that never made it all the way... It rained for some hours and the sun set just as the back-end of the storm system glided past. .. rainbows came and went (had a triple going for a second!!!)... the winds picked up with a vengence and I rode a heavy tailwind all the way home-

It just dont get much better...