Boron

On Sunday we all slept late, because it was cloudy -- very unusual in Ridgecrest. When we did finally get up, around 8 am, it was raining! This meant, we felt, that we couldn't possibly work in the yard, and since the twins interfere with all work done in the house, we decided to go on a trip.

Our first plan was to revisit the Trona museum, but it isn't open on Sundays. We next considered going to Manzanar, the former Japanese-American internment camp, but it's about 100 miles north of us and that seemed too far. Finally we decided to go to Boron, which has some museums and is only 50 miles south of us. We got a late start, but were finally on the road around 1:30 pm.

Boron is a company town, like Trona, and like Trona it is named after a substance that is mined there (actually boron is an element and borax is what's mined there, but same difference). Apparently the (open-pit) mine is enormous. Earlier this year the miners went on strike against the company that owns the mine, for several good reasons, and just recently the strike was settled. My understanding is that the company backed down on most of its demands. I thought people in the town would be in good spirits, having just won this big battle, but I guess that shows how naive I can be.

As we drove into town, I noticed that the buildings were modest and in some disrepair, but not like Trona. Much more functional than Trona. Boron is just off Highway 58, between Mojave and Barstow, in other words, out in the middle of nowhere, but not AS MUCH out in the middle of nowhere as Trona.



Our first stop in Boron was the 20 Mule Team Museum. Apparently the products of the mine used to be put in wagons and pulled by a team of 20 mules. I'm just guessing about that, really, because the boo bears were not in a museum mood and would not let either of us stand still long enough to read a display. But the museum is chock-full of pictures and models of 20-mule teams pulling wagons, like this:



Unfortunately this model had signs all over it saying "Do not touch!" If the boo bears could have played with it, I could have read the display and found out what this was all about.

Finally we gave up and left the museum. Before leaving we bought several postcards. Boo bears both chose postcards of desert tortoises. Then they chose a few more. We ended up with 7 identical postcards of desert tortoises and 1 of a tarantula.

We tried to explore the museum's yard, but the wind was blowing a million miles an hour, as usual. All the old equipment in the yard was in terrible shape and there were no displays (for me to not read). Then we tried to go to the aerospace museum next door, but it was closed.

We decided it was time for a snack (it was about 3:30). Across the street was a Cafe, at least that's what it said on the sign. We went inside, hoping for lattes and scones, only to find that it was basically a Mexican restaurant without a single dessert. So we left and went to a little park down the street where there was an enormous dump truck. I don't know why.



Then we went to another restaurant down the street, that did have desserts, and the four of us shared several. I think we were the only out-of-towners there. People kept coming in and greeting the waitress by name. I heard several people make reference to being "tired." No one was celebrating the recent settlement with the mine. I began to realize that the months-long strike had been really hard on these people.

There is a museum at the mine too, but it was probably closed by then. We decided we could see that some other time.

We drove back to Ridgecrest rather soberly. Manzanar might have been a little more upbeat.