Bisbee, Ariz. and the Queen Mine

One hundred years ago, the mines were the lifeblood of the west.

In the heart of the mountains 90 miles southeast of Tucson, Ariz., Bisbee flourished in a bustling, late 19th century economy. The town’s cornerstone was the Queen Mine, a rust-colored quarry rich with gold, silver, copper, turquoise, lead and zinc. It drew job-seekers to the area in such droves that by the early 1900’s, it was the largest community between St. Louis, Missouri and San Franciso, Cali., with a population of over 20,000. The mine shut down in the 1970's, and Bisbee has since transformed into an artist’s haven and tourist town where one can experience a miner’s life as it was a century ago.

I first visited Bisbee on a crisp autumn day, and at first sight was impressed by the history it exuded. The heart of the town is set amidst hilly terrain with distinguished, century-old buildings lining its narrow streets like soldiers from a bygone era. The roads were narrow and clean, the buildings clearly from another time, and 20th-century electrical wires crisscrossed crazily above my head in between their mostly straight paths between lamp posts.

On Main Street, a cozy, two-lane road lined with remarkable brick buildings, tourists were out enjoying the beautiful November weather. They gazed at local artwork and garden sculptures inside souvenir shops, peeked into old saloons that are now vibrant pubs, sampled the local cuisine in cafes both posh and pedestrian, and sipped on their coffee cups to-go. I quickly discovered that hotels, restaurants and souvenir shops cover the limited sprawl of downtown, and while parking can be a challenge, almost everything is within a ten-minute walk from anywhere in the area.

Walking is definitely the best way to experience this charming, historic place. An unhurried stroll through town can easily take a couple of hours, but beware: the streets can be quite steep, and stairways are aplenty, and sometimes are the only option to advance your journey without turning back. The fun, though, lies in discovery: during one leisurely stroll, I found the town’s old prison building that is now a hotel; a long outdoor stairway where the annual Bisbee 1000-step race is held; vivid stained glass windows that are magnificent from one church’s dim interior; and a man who walks around town with a mouse perched on the back of a cat strapped to the back of a dog. (Apparently he is a local attraction himself.)

The homes around Bisbee are quite the draw for the history buff or architecture enthusiast, for they are all of the Western/Victorian design that was common when the town was founded. To see these genuine, lived-in houses that are sometimes perilously perched on a hillside, you can get on a Lavender Jeep Tour and drive up and down some steep, absurdly narrow streets. You can also take the Historic Walking Tour, the Old Bisbee Ghost Tour, or better yet, a once-in-a-lifetime Hearse Tour (pun intended) to visit the creepiest addresses in town.

If downtown and its locals are the heart of Bisbee, then its soul is the place where it all began: the Queen Mine. Being one of the town’s main attractions, reservations for tours are highly recommended. Having made mine in advance, I headed to the old excavation site which is a short walk from downtown, and entered a cavernous, nondescript complex. Though the mine closed down in the 1970’s, the main building is now a museum that houses everything from actual machinery used by workers underground to everyday items like blasting caps, wrenches, antique-looking headlamps and old mason jars.

In the main lobby, a sign informs me that it’s a constant 46 degrees Fahrenheit in the mine. I donned the mandatory heavy, bright yellow coat called a slicker, put on a hard hat with a headlamp, and got on a small train that pulled me and 15 other people into the depths of the Queen Mine. It was unbelievably dark, and the noise of the rail cars echoed loudly through the tunnel as we shimmied along.

Our tour guide was a gentleman who used to work in the mine. I listened intently as he told us stories at every stop; as we journeyed deeper into the cavern, so did I into his fascinating tales. In the cold and austere underground, he painted a picture of grueling days, of how he and his friends would carry out their tasks, from planting explosives and scurrying away, to using the facilities down in the mine. In the darkened shafts, he showed us a pair of toilets which were elevated about three feet from the ground, side by side with no walls between them; I had never seen anything like it. On and on went his stories, and so did our learning of subterranean life. Finally, at the end of the tour, our train noisily emerged from the cavern and into welcome sunlight. 

The following day, I said goodbye to this historic town and began my journey back to Phoenix. I drove past the mine’s quarry, its walls hundreds of feet deep around a chasm twice as wide, silent and empty, the past suspended in its massive void. I imagined it teeming with unassuming men, toiling underground for years as they arduously carved their and this town’s future. I felt immense respect for them and the hazards of their trade.

Bisbee is by no means the megalopolis that Phoenix is, but it has brought forth its share of legends, of humanity at its rawest, a town where both culture and notoriety daily welcomed its struggling, rough-edged miners. The West -- proud, fierce, and still a bit wild -- wouldn’t be what it is today were it not for the mines; they have shaped the lives of peoples and the destiny of states. The spirit that made Bisbee the stronghold of Cochise County still runs through Arizona’s veins, 125 years after its founding.

I invite you to visit Bisbee, feel its allure, set foot in the Queen Mine and be awed. Immerse yourself in a moment of history. Then let it change your life. #