KUDOS The Great Outdoors | Page 42

Searles Valley Mineral Works © Cindy Ackley Nunn
Trona – Borax and Broken Dreams
by Cindy Ackley Nunn
My husband and I are “desert rats.” Our vacations are generally spent in one of the many small towns located in the
vast region of the Mojave Desert of California. In September 2013 we stayed in Ridgecrest, Ca., in Kern County. Usually
we rent a rustic cabin somewhere in a quiet area but this time decided to make the SpringHill Suites by Marriott our
“base camp,” and were pleased that we did. The service was superb and the suite we had was comfortable, clean and
well equipped with a small kitchenette. The staff were also very professional and friendly.
The living ghost town of Randsburg, just 25 miles south of Ridgecrest, is one of our regular stops since we have a lot of
friends there we like to catch up with. But, on this occasion we only made a brief visit . We had other plans in mind for
this trip, a visit to Trona, located about 23 miles east of Ridgecrest in the county of San Bernardino.
California Highway 178 to Trona is a lonely and desolate one., with nothing in the way of amenities between Ridgecrest
and Trona, which is just the way we liked it. The wind blows through this desert corridor with a brutal ferocity, stirring
up dirt but very little in the way of cooling breezes. The monotony is broken only by the low, rocky hills and mountains.
The modern march of progress in the form of telephone poles and electricity towers also add a surreal touch, as if they
don't really belong in this harsh terrain traveled in the past by pioneers and seekers of gold.
Finally, on the outskirts of Trona, we began to see signs of “civilization” in the form of the Searles Valley Mineral works,
a huge plant where borax, boric acid, soda ash and sodium sulfate are mined. They are a major employer for those
living in the small towns spread out for miles around in this area. After passing this man-made behemoth of the desert
we approached the beginning of the town limits of Trona. To our left, the rusting shell of an abandoned gas station and
the ruins of a building constructed from desert rock. On our right, an operating Texaco, a welcome pit stop for a cold
drink and toilet facilities.
Our drive through Trona was a real eye-opener to true desolation and the death of a once thriving town. The grocery
store and restaurant closed long ago. At one time Trona boasted a hospital and the Austin Hall Theater. In 1924 thirty
homes were moved to Trona from Borosolvay to house the expanding population of those with families. Today these
houses are still standing, many empty and full of ghosts, slowly falling into disrepair. Of course, some of them are still
occupied and well-loved by people whose families have been here for generations. These are the hardy and tenacious
ones who have refused to give up on the town where they have loved, laughed, cried, shared joys and commiserated
over sorrows. It is hard to shake feelings of deep sorrow when surrounded by all the broken American dreams.