Country Boy Mine

We had a spectacular time at the Country Boy Mine!  Oh, what a gorgeous location on a mountain out on the outskirts of Breckenridge.  It was very educational, too, for all of us.  Plus it was just plain sad t see how they lived.  Here is the phenomenal view just outside of the entrance.

Before we knew it, we were suited up in chic miner-wear and whisked off deep into the mine.  It still contains real gold as well as a former miner who has yet to be located.  Thankfully we did not run into him on the tour.

Sure, we all know mining conditions were bad back in the day, but I had no idea how horrible they really were.  What I really liked about visiting the mine was that they didn't just say, "The conditions were awful."  Instead they showed us what the miners' long,  dangerous, and dreary days were like so we could draw our own conclusions.  Of course they went something like this, "The conditions were awful."

There were only two jobs for men.  They either swung a humungous mallet all day long or they held onto a humungous nail that their partner was pounding on all day long with the aforementioned humungous mallet.  The nail would get hot and turn red so the mallet man would know where to strike.  Hopefully his aim was good and also consistent.  Yee gads.

As for the physical conditions, it was pitch dark in there with three men sharing just one tiny candle.  If you ran out of matches, well, you were out of matches for the day.  Good luck finding your way out of there.  The men worked while standing in 10-12 inches of cold water for their tedious ten-hour shift, seven days a week.  It was pretty damp and cold at a constant 45 degrees.  There were no latrines, no powder room, no espresso stand.  Oh, and they used rats to help them to anticipate a cave-in as well as to detect poisonous gasses before it was too late.  (The rats would run like hell out of the tunnel.)  The salary was $1 per day.  Yowza.

Oh, just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, it does.  Boys ages 6 and up were hired for ten cents a day to be "blast monkeys."  The young boys had the unenviable job of setting the dynamite and running.  Then they would have to go back and check on the duds.  Double yowza.  Thank God for child labor laws!  Wait, here comes a potential blast monkey now!

Here's a potential miner and blast monkey duo.

After we emerged form the mine, we got to prospect for gold t in the creek running only a few feet from the entrance to the mine.  We all labored away for quite a while with official gold pans and all.  Despite some initial cries of "Gold!" at best it all turned out to be fool's gold.  Even that was a thrill, though.

After a while the boys commiserated a bit, some male bonding.

Daddy Mac was trying to strike it rich so he could retire right then and there.  Aw, shucks!

And as a send-off, kids could ride through the old ore mine chute that empties out right by the parking lots.  If only the blast monkeys had had that option....

Thank you, Country Boy Mine, for reminding us just how good we have it!



LibbY