Driving up the nine-mile dirt road in our minivan was probably not the smartest idea we’ve had. The track started OK, but after a couple of miles, the sand got thicker, and the rocks got bigger. Manoeuvring became more difficult, and the tires had no traction. But we were on a quest to see Burro Schmidt’s Tunnel.
Who Was Burro Schmidt?
William “Burro” Henry Schmidt was born in Rhode Island in 1871. He had six siblings, three brothers and three sisters, all of whom died of tuberculosis before reaching their thirtieth birthdays.
For health reasons, he left his home town of Woonsocket and arrived in California in 1895. Finding employment with the Kern County Land Co., Schmidt stayed for two years before returning to Rhode Island.
He came back some three years later, around 1899 or 1900 and made his home on Copper Mountain, in the El Paso range, just outside the town of Garlock to try his luck at prospecting.
The Road Less Travelled
Even though there were many side turnings for off-roaders, there were plenty of signs directing the way to Burro Schmidt’s Tunnel. Some were painted on large oil drums, others on huge pipes.
It was a slow journey, and the landscape barren. The higher into the mountains we drove, there were more switchbacks, more boulders and deeper sand.
Eventually, at an elevation of 4,000 ft, a few dilapidated buildings came into view. But we’ll get to those later.
Why A Tunnel?
There are several explanations as to why William decided to build this 0.5-mile tunnel through solid granite. Some say that he was following a vein of gold, although there is no record of a strike. His reason was; rather than using his mules to haul gold ore along the dangerous path to the Mojave smelt; he was going to build a tunnel as a short cut to the railway.
Using only dynamite, a pick, a shovel, and a four-pound hammer, Schmidt took thirty-two years to achieve his goal. He began in 1906 and finished in 1938; it was built solely in candlelight.
The tunnel is 6ft tall and about 4ft wide and was dug entirely by his own hands. It is estimated that over 5,800 tons of rock were removed—a good proportion of which was taken out using a wheelbarrow, although Schmidt did install mining rails at some point.
Exploring Burro’s Burrow
Continuing past the homesteads, we made our way up the hill and around a tight bend when the tunnel came into view. We parked near the square entrance to the mine.
There is a monument to honour William’s ingenuity and dedication just outside.
With flashlights and head torches, we entered, not knowing quite what to expect.
Through the sturdy open door, there were some interesting notes and of course, the usual graffiti left by disrespectful people.
The first sign, written in pen on a piece of plywood reads;
“This is part of our history.
Do not abuse the privilege and have the right to visit here taken away.
Enjoy it. Appreciate it. Use it, But don’t destroy it.
Destruction of property makes our land less accessible for all of us.
Thanks
Friends of “Burro Schmidt” and Tonie Seger”
There were other markings on metal nailed into the wooden frames. Some mining notes perhaps?
Deeper Into The Abyss of Burro Schmidt’s Tunnel
We ventured deeper into the abyss. Dust particles danced in the beams of our lights. The air was surprisingly clean, which was a bonus because we had left our masks in the van. Although it did get dustier the deeper we went.
I couldn’t begin to imagine digging this out, by hand and only in candlelight!
A few hundred feet in, ore cart rails appeared on the ground and curved, leading into another, smaller tunnel. A note was pinned to the frame, explaining the use of this 35ft shaft. The hardwood door was open, so we entered, scanning the floor and the walls to make sure there were no surprises.
It was exactly what it said it was. A tunnel now used for storage. Interesting though. Why would Schmidt have built it? Unless it had been an exploratory mine, which wouldn’t make sense if he was tunnelling as a short cut!
Pitch Black
We could no longer see the light from the entrance and decided to switch off all of our torches to see just how dark it was.
Wow! Talk about pitch black. I literally couldn’t see a thing. It was darker than dark, and more than just a little spooky.
With our lamps back on, we continued. The ceiling started getting lower, and we had to stoop. Remains of candles balanced in the crevises. Iron Ore leaching from the rocks had stained them a reddish colour. White quartz sparkled in our lights rays, and copper, like a green mould, clung to the walls.
There Is Always Light At The End Of The Tunnel
The tunnel ended abruptly in a “T” junction. To the right, there was a glimmer of light, to the left, more darkness. We chose to go left and see where it went.
After about 100 ft or so the shaft took a sharp right, another 100 ft and nothing—a dead-end! We retraced our steps and headed into the light.
It took a few seconds for our eyes to adjust. We were at the end of the line.
There was a view of Koehn Lake Bed and the Mojave Desert with the railroad tracks below. Schmidt had succeeded. Albeit eighteen years too late. You see, a road had been completed in 1920, so there was no need for Schmidt’s “shortcut,” but he had become obsessed on completing it.
We returned the way we came. Stopping at the main entrance one last time, we read another notice pinned to the wall and scanned to see if we had missed anything—mission accomplished.
It was time to explore the abandoned buildings which we had passed earlier, one of which was William’s simple one-roomed cabin.
“Burro’s” Simple Home
Schmidt got the nickname “Burro” because of his two donkeys, Jack and Jenny. Only using them to carry supplies from town and never in the mine, the pair were his companions for many years.
He lived a meagre life eating mainly pancakes and beans. He mended his clothes, patching holes with sacking.
William lived alone. He was never married and had no children. Wasting nothing, he used empty pancake boxes along with magazine and paper clippings to line the walls of his cabin to act as insolation. Flattened tin cans adorn the exterior woodwork.
During the summer months, he worked in Kernville on vegetable farms and doing ranching. The winters were spent digging into the mountain.
At one point he dug a shaft 200ft in the wrong direction. That could explain the dead-end at the “T” junction.
Schmidt sold his mining claim soon after the tunnel’s completion. This is where the information gets sketchy. Some references say he just walked away, others that he remained living in this cabin for several more years.
He died aged 82 on the 26 Jan 1954 in Ridgecrest and buried at Rand District Cemetery in Johannesburg, California.
The tunnel took 32 years to build. He was 36 when starting and 68 when he finished. William Henry “Burro” Schmidt never did get to use his tunnel. But what a feat of engineering. In fact, Ripley’s Believe It Or Not named Schmidt “the Human Mole,” and stated that the tunnel was “the greatest one-man mining achievement in history.”
The Caretakers Cabin
Tonie Seger and her husband bought the mining claims in 1963. The couple moved into the homestead (adjacent to “Burro’s” old cabin) which had been built by the previous owner. A year later, Tonie’s husband passed away.
People from around the world came to pay homage to the famous Burro Schmidt, and Tonie gave tours of the mine. Giving them the history of the area and keeping the legend of the hermit alive.
She stayed on at her cabin for over 40 years, becoming known as “The Keeper of the Tunnel,” “The Tunnel Lady” or “The Lady of the Hill.”
In May 2003 at aged 95, Tonie Seger passed away. A memorial service was held at the tunnel’s entrance.
Who Owns The Land Now?
During the last few years of Tonie’s life, her son looked after her and maintained Burro Schmidt’s Tunnel. Over the next few years, there was a discrepancy of land rights, and the BLM (Beauru of Land Management) took over. They have bulldozed several of the buildings.
Unfortunately, with no occupants, vandals and thieves have pretty much destroyed this fantastic piece of Californian history.
The tunnel is still open, for those who wish to venture in. For how long, no one knows.
Our Takeaway on Burro Schmidt’s Tunnel
Both of us enjoy visiting these sorts of sites. It was fascinating researching the history and delving into the life of William Schmidt. For us, these places should remain sacred. They ought to be maintained and cared for.
There is a lot to learn from the pioneers of the past. The commitment “Burro” had and the precision and craftsmanship he showed.
The tunnel itself was clear from debris and graffiti. It did get dusty the further in we went, and both of us should have brought masks or at least wrapped bandanas over our mouths and noses.
If you have claustrophobia then maybe this isn’t a place you should explore.
BURRO SCHMIDT’S TUNNEL IN A NUTSHELL
- There are several ways to access the tunnel. All of which need a high clearance 4WD. Although we did manage to make it in our minivan – just!
- Between 7 and 9-mile drive on unpaved roads one way (depending on which way you enter)
- From Redrock Randsburg Road Turn onto Last Chance Canyon Road, From the 14 Fwy turn on Last Chance Canyon Road at Harts Place (EP-15)
- Watch for snakes and other bities (we didn’t see any)
- Torches are a MUST. We had headlamps and flashlights too
- It would be advisable to cover your nose and mouth because of dust particles
- Please respect this property so others can enjoy it
- Leave No Trace. Pack it in – pack it out
Check out this short video that our YouTuber friends Bethany and Drew made about Burro Schmidt’s Tunnel.
location map
- For more exciting locations to explore click the link below
An interesting read about burro tunnel, all that digging then they put a road in, digging the tunnel must have made him bored at times (a little humour).