Time Travel Through the Lebanon Silver Mine

A shrill whistle pierces the air signaling the historic locomotive's departure from the halfway station of the railroad connecting Georgetown and Silver Plume in Colorado. As the chugging noise of the old engine slowly fades into the distance, the passengers who have disembarked cannot deny their rising sense of expectation for the promised adventure ahead. After all, the walking tour of the Lebanon Silver Mine features the exploration of 1,400 feet of well-preserved tunnels and the expert retelling of stories about the miners from the late 1800s; both of which lend to the feeling of traveling through time.

The antiquated but well-kept tunnels of the Lebanon Silver Mine are like a portal to the past; the trek through them gives the impression of being temporarily disconnected from the present. To start with, the temperature inside the underground chambers stayed at a chilly 44 ⁰F regardless of how warm it is outside. The tunnels are very dimly lit, reminiscent of the days when candles are the only source of work light; with very few electric lamps on the walls, we needed flashlights for better visibility. Apart from the wooden walkway and the reinforcing timber on the ceiling (added for safety purposes), the tunnels are mostly untouched. The sturdy Silver Plume granite, through which the mine was bored in the 1870s, showcases centuries-old stalactites hanging from above, dark gray streaks of galena coursing its sides, and pearl-like silver nubs dotting the floor. Even now, water from a nearby stream slowly seeps through the tunnel walls, slightly flooding the lumpy ground. The mine not only displays the continuous movement of nature, but also the remnants of the pursuit of man. For instance, the narrow holes drifting through the mostly solid rock indicates where rich veins of silver have been discovered and consequently extracted. Calcified hobnail boot prints reveal the route miners took on their way to their designated work area, and a rusty steam-driven hoist stands guard over the downward shaft where it used to convey both miners and ores. Truly, every corner of the Lebanon Silver Mine is an enduring reminder of a bygone era.

During the tour, the skillful recital of tales about the mining condition in the 1870s transported me back to the period when the tunnels were still bustling with activity. While the tour guide relates what constitutes a miner's ten-hour shift, I can almost hear the deafening boom of the dynamite blast, the thud of rocks being dropped in carts and the clang of hammers striking steel drills. As the story turns to the darkened lunch hour when no candle is allowed to burn, I could imagine nibbling at the flaky crust of a Cornish pasty filled with bittersweet turnip cubes and savory beef chunks; then, finishing off with a drink of tepid water. When the narrative focuses on the lack of latrine in the mine and how the miners would relieve themselves in wooden crates, I was left choking at the idea of the fetid odor comingling with the musty air. As the tour guide explains how there would be no more candles left by the end of the shift, I could picture the exhausted miners hurriedly groping their way out of the muddy tunnel in stark darkness. Indeed, the detailed narration gave me a glimpse of a thriving industry before its eventual demise at the end of the 19th century.

The guided tour of the Lebanon Silver Mine allows for a journey back in time. Undoubtedly, the short excursion through the well-maintained mine and the masterful rehashing about early-day mining provide for a very memorable experience. Even while boarding the outdated train, guests leave the halfway station with a deeper appreciation of history.