Underground NH - Exploring A Hidden Silver Mine

In the summer of 2017 I set out in search of an abandoned gold mine, said to be located somewhere in the woods of central New Hampshire. Two weeks later I found a mine in those woods, but far enough away from where I'd started to make me wonder; was this even the same mine I'd been looking for? And not that there were any shiny rocks kicking around for me to verify, but I subsequently learned that the mineshaft I'd stumbled onto below is a silver mine, not a gold mine. So was my original information wrong and are these one and the same, or is there a second mineshaft in these woods still waiting to be discovered?

Let me start at the beginning. A 1946 historical book I bought on Amazon describes how in the late 1800's a gold mine was opened in these woods, and it operated until enough people didn't get rich from it that the entire project was abandoned in frustration. The location wasn't given, but I later uncovered two separate clues that gave me enough confidence to set out on my search. One being that the mine was located a certain distance south from a railroad bed (which no longer existed, but you'd be surprised how those raised beds are still noticeable on Google Earth), and the second being that it was located a distance east from an old railroad depot. That depot no longer existed either, but I didn't see that being an issue. Finding its address should be all over the historical records of the town. At least one would think so, but I'll be darned if it didn't take me finding a postcard of it on Ebay to finally pin down its address.

But now that I had triangulated its position, it was just a matter of working out all the details so I could begin my search. Do I bring my mountain bike so I can cover more ground, or hike in case the woods were too dense for riding? Should I wear shorts to keep myself cool, or long pants to protect against thorns when bushwhacking? What type of beer should I celebrate with when I returned? Many tough decisions, but with the logistics finally worked out, on a recent Saturday morning I went for a ride.

My starting point would begin forty-five minutes from my house, where a trail led behind a town park and into the woods. Happy to have made the decision to bring my mountain bike, I started out quickly and within 15 minutes reached my suspect location. And my first disappointment. The area was just a big open marsh and there weren't any holes to be found.

Not that I was surprised, considering I'd pinned this location from an address on a postcard and satellite images of a railroad bed that no longer existed, so I did what I always do after strike one. I began fanning out my search in wider and wider circles. This mine proved to be a stubborn place to find though, and soon my circles had grown to the quarter-mile variety. Just when it looked like I might be done for the day. I stumbled onto a path that, although obviously not traveled in a long time, was definitely a dirt road at some point in the past.

I followed it for about ten minutes before finding this old picnic table in the middle of what used to be a clearing. This wasn't just some backyard table either, this was large and rustic and looks like the kind of place where miners might once have gathered, grimy and sore after a hard day's digging. Real men, not men who put SPF 40 on their scalp and take vitamin D supplements because they often feel "run down". I wouldn't belong at this table any more than my youngest belongs at the grown-up table during Thanksgiving dinner.

Thinking I must be close now, I fanned out my search into smaller circles, but for all of my optimism and determination there were no mineshafts to be found on this day. I'm convinced these woods hold a secret though, for I spotted this structure not too far off the main trail.

Which on closer inspection turned out to be a decrepit outhouse. On a related note, don't let anyone ever tell you that miners don't have a sense of humor.

So back home to the drawing board I went, and although I swore by my original research, this time I found something that pointed me to a different spot. Two things about this new location - it was just over a mile from where my original clues had led me, and this one listed it as a silver mine, not a gold mine. So either one of the articles had some explaining to do, or these were two different places entirely. I planned to find out the following weekend, which would be my next day off from work and just enough time for my legs to recover from round one.

Compared to the ordeal I'd gone through originally, my search the following week was uneventful and not nearly as treacherous, and in fact almost anticlimactic. Although it still took me a couple hours searching, at about a quarter-mile from where I'd begun the day I was rewarded with this sight.

Closer inspection revealed this wasn't a welcome sign at the entrance, and I did cross that no trespassing sign to explore the tunnel. My other reprehensible act of the day was forgetting to record the video of it in landscape mode.

Start to finish the shaft is roughly fifty feet in length, with a small puddle at the entrance and dampness throughout. I respected the property as if it were my own, and even left a small gift in the form of a foreign coin I placed into the wall, before I was on my way.

So what have I learned about this mine since the time I explored it? In 1875 a white rock was found that was thought to contain silver, and after a newspaper article fanned the flames by speculating how extensive "gold, silver, lead and coal" were in these woods, the rush was on. Several companies attempted to mine the area before a new company was formed for the job, and $1 stocks were sold to fund the purchase of equipment. At least two shafts of equal length were dug into the hillside, and although silver turned out not to be the jackpot most expected, enough mica deposits were found to supply washers to General Electric in Schenectady NY, and crushed stone and poultry grit were sold to supplement the search. But these incidental businesses were short-lived, and not even ten years later remains of the entire operation were sold at auction.

Having learned that there's a second shaft, I have to wonder how close I was to finding it on my first attempt. Maybe someday I'll venture back into these woods for another go at it, but for now I'm content with the pictures I have of shaft one. New Hampshire's mini silver-rush was not the windfall many hoped it would be, but my mission to find it closed with a much happier ending. And to complete the story, when I returned back to my house that evening, Smuttynose IPA was my beer of choice to celebrate another successful adventure.