Boulder City: shadows of a mining marvel linger on
—Photo by DAC COLLINS One of the more “intact” structures, which was clearly made from milled lumber, can be found along Boulder Creek Road. Old foundations, skeletons of rooves and othere bits and pieces from old homesites can also be found nearby.
--Photo by DAC COLLINS The Boulder Creek cemetery has an interesting history of its own. Years back, a local high school teacher by the name of Bob Fitch removed the original wooden grave markers and donated them to the Boundary County Historical Society. Then, with the help of his students, Fitch made replicas of the grave markers and installed them in place of the orginals.
--Photo by DAC COLLINS This defacement of an old concrete cellar is an example of what not to do. It's a shame that a historic site like this one is now tainted forever. If you do go out of your way to visit these places, please respect them. Don't take anything home and try not to leave any trace other than footprints.
Remnants of decrepit settlements can be found throughout the dense, mountainous forests of the Northwest. Many of these settlements were established during the 19th and early 20th centuries but failed for one reason or another, and most of them gradually disappeared over the years. In many cases, these ghost towns have been reclaimed almost entirely by nature and little to no proof of their existence remains.
In some places, however, evidence of these historic settlements can still be seen. An area known by local historians as Boulder City, which is located in Kaniksu National Forest near the Montana border, is one such place. Curious souls willing to do a bit of exploring can still see the shadowy remains of this abandoned city.
Founded by President of the Idaho Gold and Radium Company J.M. Schnatterly around the year 1910, Boulder City, also known as Ruby City, was really more of a semi-permanent mining camp than a city — and a pretty unsuccesful one at that. In reality, the settlement was built around the illusion of riches, but, during the turn of the century, even an unfounded rumor of gold was enough to draw settlers.
At its zenith, Boulder City had an estimated population of approximately 150 people. During that time, there was something like 60 buildings, most of them simple shacks, along Boulder Creek Road. This road is perched precariously above the Boulder Creek gorge, and it remains in decent shape today except for a couple washed-out sections.
Just the fact that these settlers were able to hack out a road in such a steep, densely forested area says a lot about their persevering character. They were certainly a headstrong group of pioneers, and some might argue that they were just plain stubborn. Either way, there was a reason they flocked there.
Because of its proximity to Leonia, an old railroad town that also experienced a boom-and-bust period, and because he owned the water rights to Boulder Creek, Schnatterly saw Boulder City as the perfect location for a mining town. All he needed was investors. So he claimed to have found a 15 inch-wide vein of radium somewhere along Boulder Creek. The vein, which would have been one of the richest radium veins in the world, was never mined. In fact, it was never actually seen or verified.
However, that didn’t keep Schnatterly from promoting his “discovery”. He attracted investors from all over the country, taking them from the train station in Bonners Ferry up the Kootenai river in his private launch to Leonia, and then on to Boulder City by horse and buggy. In what might have been one of the greatest scams in the history of Boundary county, Schnatterly scraped up approximately $2 million dollars from these investors, which would be more like $50 million dollars in today’s economy.
The Idaho Gold and Radium Company, which soon changed its name to the Idaho Gold and Ruby Mining Company, used these funds to build a placer mining operation that utilized the rushing water of Boulder creek to separate the gold from the gravel. The steep creek forms a 1,600-foot long box canyon that, in the eyes of Schnatterly and his engineers, created as perfect a sluice box as they could have hoped to devise.
Their plans to harness this natural sluice box were as complex as they were unsuccesful. They channeled the creek’s flow into large flumes made of lumber that were supposed to catch the precious minerals as they washed over, and all of the creek’s flow was directed into a deep hole they called “the blue hole”, which was where all of the larger rubies and golden nuggets would theoretically end up. They even erected a high-line cable across the creek in order to transport construction supplies. This aerial tramway, which was powered by a steam donkey, was a marvel of engineering in its own right. At the time, the Idaho Gold and Ruby Mine was the largest operating placer mine in the world.
An excerpt from “Spokane and the Inland Empire; History of the City of Spokane and Spokane County Washington” reveals how much excitement was generated by this mine at the time: “Experts have examined the property and speak in most glowing terms of its possibilities. In his work, Mr. Schnatterly is calling to his aid thoroughly experienced mining men and the work is being prosecuted on a scale and with rapidity that promises soon to bring substantial returns.”
But reality, as it often does, dealt a crushing blow to this operation. The “substantial returns” that were promised added up over a roughly fifteen-year period to a grand total of approximately $150 dollars. Because of these dismal returns, the mining operations at Boulder City were eventually abandoned completely, and by the 1930’s, the town whose name used to conjure up images of fist-sized rubies in the minds of miners was more or less deserted.
And it’s a wonder that they stuck around that long. Even while the mine failed tremendously to live up to the hype, it continued to draw in miners who were down on their luck and probably had nowhere better to go. Of course Schnatterly’s enthusiasm and persuasiveness cannot be overlooked. An article that was published in the Kootenai Valley Times in 1990 speaks to his charisma: “Contemporaries reported that with a few words he could charm new money out of impatient creditors, or even make friends of his enemies, of which there were many.”
Schnatterly died in 1923 when his cabin cruiser exploded into flames on the north bank of the Kootenai river. After his death, the Idaho Gold and Ruby Mining Co. struggled against all odds to continue the mining operation in Boulder Creek. By 1930, however, the operation had foundered completely and the settlement was quickly becoming a phantom of its former self.
Over the past century, the creek restored itself (for the most part) while roofs slowly caved in and foudations were covered in moss. A few dilapidated structures and an old cemetery remain, however.
While a couple of significant road washouts have made it impossible to drive to these historic sites, they can still be found by hiking along Boulder Creek Road.
Since the sites are located within Kaniksu National Forest, anyone willing to do some legwork can visit them, but those who do so are asked to be respectful and considerate of these rich cultural resources.
Please do not disturb these sites or take anything home with you. It is our responsibilty to preserve these places and keep them intact. That means: no digging, defacing or removing artifacts, and no vandalizing old buildings. These are crimes punishable with fines and jailtime, but more importantly, they threaten our ability to connect with the past. Also, please respect our forests by not littering.
In next week’s edition, we will delve deeper into the life and death of the legendary J.M. Schnatterly, and we will present the question that historians have wrestled with over the years: Was he a visionary who dreamed too big or just a con man?