Jeffro
Silver Member
Hardrider (Mel) and Leslie showed up the night before and we all headed up the Rogue river for some sampling near Galice, on Rocky riffle. Wes Pearen, and old hydraulic miner, had his Old Channel placer mine on the bluff about 500 feet above Galice. All the tailings from this mine came down Rocky gulch and Rich gulch. Nice nuggets are still found in these tailings on the Rogue.
Try as we might, we just couldn't get into an area with decent colors, so we headed out for lunch. I really wanted to show the folks an old cabin I had found on a previous trip, so we decided to head out for it. It's only about a 3 mile hike down the Rogue from the boat ramp on Grave creek where we were camped, but it turns out the road going in from above takes you on a wild ride through the hills for about 15 miles before you get there. Mel and Leslie were anxious to get some more panning in, so they headed back to Grave creek and hit the cracks hard.
Lisa, the kids and I hiked on in about a mile or so from where we had to park, down a series of switchbacks that dropped us 500 feet or more in elevation (just a guess). We finally hit the powder sheds which are close to the cabin-
A little history here- The cabin was originally built about 1880 and consisted of nothing more than four walls and a roof, which amounted to little more than a lean-to. Over the years, it was added on to by successive owners as they came and went. The last to occupy the cabin was Lou Martin who came there in 1957 as a caretaker for Mr. and Mrs. L.M. Nichols.
The flume ditch near the cabin was constructed about 1890, beginning 1/2 mile up Whisky Creek from the cabin and ending at the gully just behind the tool shed. Later, in 1905, it was extended beyond the cabin to a point about 50 feet above Whisky Creek bar. This flume ditch provided drinking water for the cabin and water for hydraulic mining at both the cabin and bar.
From "Illahe" by Kay Atwood, Lou Martin's own words-
"You see, when you mine for yourself, you don't put 8 hours in. It's 12, 14 hours a day; time you get your breakfast, time you sweep up, do the dishes, then go to work and come in and do your cooking again. Your mind's occupied all the time. In summer you get up about 4:00 a.m. As soon as daylight you go to work. By 11:30 you'd have to quit because down in them canyons it gets hot. If you want to take a day off and go fishing you take a day off and go fishing. Which I did -- for steelhead. After trout it'd be in Whisky Creek, after salmon it'd be the river.
Even in the winter time, tho, you're always working. If you can't mine cause the creek's too high, you cut your next year's wood. I had to use a crosscut saw. I despised that thing. I never hit first base with it. But I still had to cut my wood with it, until the chain saws came out. Pile it up, tier it up, and be dry for the next winter. If you're going to stay always have to think ahead. Couldn't be like a grasshopper, play around all summer, wouldn't have nothin'."
"You learn to do things for yourself when you're in the hills."
"I had no wood on my side of the creek that I could get anywhere at all for firewood. When you're mining you logged your firewood and you logged for your cabin off your claim."
It took less than two weeks for Lou Martin to construct a log retrieval cable and dolly-cart system to get wood across Whisky Creek. He strung half-inch steel cable 480 feet across the creek and hand-tightened it with a system of levers and pulleys, a "come-along" and hand winch. The cable came from an old elevator in California.
When in working condition, the cart was powered to the other side of the creek by a "donkey engine." Lou would walk over, cut the wood, load it onto the cart and let gravity take it back across the creek. The cart would pick up so much speed that the impact would jar the load loose, sending logs flying, coming to rest 15 feet from the woodshed where they were stored for the winter.
The two-seater-
Back porch-
Dump-
Cobble piles-
And a couple of miners who never left-
Lou died in 1977, at the age of 83, after spending most of his last years at this cabin along the Rogue River.
Try as we might, we just couldn't get into an area with decent colors, so we headed out for lunch. I really wanted to show the folks an old cabin I had found on a previous trip, so we decided to head out for it. It's only about a 3 mile hike down the Rogue from the boat ramp on Grave creek where we were camped, but it turns out the road going in from above takes you on a wild ride through the hills for about 15 miles before you get there. Mel and Leslie were anxious to get some more panning in, so they headed back to Grave creek and hit the cracks hard.
Lisa, the kids and I hiked on in about a mile or so from where we had to park, down a series of switchbacks that dropped us 500 feet or more in elevation (just a guess). We finally hit the powder sheds which are close to the cabin-
A little history here- The cabin was originally built about 1880 and consisted of nothing more than four walls and a roof, which amounted to little more than a lean-to. Over the years, it was added on to by successive owners as they came and went. The last to occupy the cabin was Lou Martin who came there in 1957 as a caretaker for Mr. and Mrs. L.M. Nichols.
The flume ditch near the cabin was constructed about 1890, beginning 1/2 mile up Whisky Creek from the cabin and ending at the gully just behind the tool shed. Later, in 1905, it was extended beyond the cabin to a point about 50 feet above Whisky Creek bar. This flume ditch provided drinking water for the cabin and water for hydraulic mining at both the cabin and bar.
From "Illahe" by Kay Atwood, Lou Martin's own words-
"You see, when you mine for yourself, you don't put 8 hours in. It's 12, 14 hours a day; time you get your breakfast, time you sweep up, do the dishes, then go to work and come in and do your cooking again. Your mind's occupied all the time. In summer you get up about 4:00 a.m. As soon as daylight you go to work. By 11:30 you'd have to quit because down in them canyons it gets hot. If you want to take a day off and go fishing you take a day off and go fishing. Which I did -- for steelhead. After trout it'd be in Whisky Creek, after salmon it'd be the river.
Even in the winter time, tho, you're always working. If you can't mine cause the creek's too high, you cut your next year's wood. I had to use a crosscut saw. I despised that thing. I never hit first base with it. But I still had to cut my wood with it, until the chain saws came out. Pile it up, tier it up, and be dry for the next winter. If you're going to stay always have to think ahead. Couldn't be like a grasshopper, play around all summer, wouldn't have nothin'."
"You learn to do things for yourself when you're in the hills."
"I had no wood on my side of the creek that I could get anywhere at all for firewood. When you're mining you logged your firewood and you logged for your cabin off your claim."
It took less than two weeks for Lou Martin to construct a log retrieval cable and dolly-cart system to get wood across Whisky Creek. He strung half-inch steel cable 480 feet across the creek and hand-tightened it with a system of levers and pulleys, a "come-along" and hand winch. The cable came from an old elevator in California.
When in working condition, the cart was powered to the other side of the creek by a "donkey engine." Lou would walk over, cut the wood, load it onto the cart and let gravity take it back across the creek. The cart would pick up so much speed that the impact would jar the load loose, sending logs flying, coming to rest 15 feet from the woodshed where they were stored for the winter.
The two-seater-
Back porch-
Dump-
Cobble piles-
And a couple of miners who never left-
Lou died in 1977, at the age of 83, after spending most of his last years at this cabin along the Rogue River.
