Mining along the Beryl Mountain ledge began with the discovery of giant quartz crystals by Francis Alger in 1837, and with that find was born a world famous mining operation that operated into the 1960's. World famous is no exaggeration either. Next time you're in Boston stop and look up at the JFK building, it's entirely covered with beryl quartz that was mined from this very mountain, and from the shaft I had just set out to find.
Starting with my usual tricks that morning, I picked a random parking spot half a mile down the mountain road, then pedaled my bike until finding the least-dense spot of woods to enter. There I began a bushwhack that would nearly turn into a crawl the further up the steep ledge I climbed.
You're not apt to find many bad views in the mountains of New Hampshire, but a few are bound to exist and you can leave it up to me to find them. Here's a picture I took for my wife so that she could experience the journey with me, and it shouldn't take you more than a few seconds to find all sorts of wrong with it. First is that I still haven't figured out how to handle lighting and shadows on my phone's camera; second is the pair of trees completely blocking what was an otherwise nice view; and third is that even though I'd ditched my bike at the base of the mountain I was still wearing my helmet, a fact I didn't realize until that moment.
Having already decided I have no problem playing word semantics, I told myself that I'd subconsciously kept the helmet on as protection for when I ventured underground. Some of those tunnels get pretty tight and I've rung my bell more than a few times wandering through them. This explanation might even have worked, except then I wondered why if I was so smart didn't I bring gloves on such a chilly day, knowing how bad the circulation in my hands can get. For this I had no answer, so I told myself to mind my own business and kept moving.
At some point during my climb a wall of rock came into view, and it wasn't long before a dark shape took form. I've seen mineshaft entrances of all shapes and sizes, and from 50 yards away I'd have bet the next round of Sam Adams that what I'd spotted was the mine's opening. It wasn't until reaching it that I realized it wasn't a mineshaft, but a cave. The downside of this is that our state's caves are much smaller than our mineshafts, but the upside is that this wasn't anything I expected to find on this mountain. In all my sleuthing on everything underground in New Hampshire, this is a cave who's existence I'd never sniffed out.
Because I could see to the end I wasn't worried about encountering anything large in there, but I was still cautious because it seemed like just the kind of place something small and cuddly - a porcupine, perhaps - might make itself at home in. I made my usual commotion at the entrance, and after several moments of reassuring silence ventured in.
If you're ever needing a break from the everyday hustle of life, hike to the top of a mountain, find yourself a cave, then just sit in it. Focus only on that moment. There are things that simply do not exist during magical times like these. There is no bickering about which political party is dooming the country faster, no never-ending stream of emails to fret over, no outrage over how inflation goes up 3% every year but property taxes go up triple that. There's only a wonderful mix of nature, peace, and a little bit of creepiness - which when experienced together will reboot your mind as thoroughly as ctr-alt-del will reboot your computer.
Eventually it was time to keep moving, and although I scoured that mountain for hours afterward, in the end I threw up my hands and admitted there just weren't any mineshafts to be found. I did come across plenty of quarried rocks and dig pits, and at one point I found myself in front of what could have been a mineshaft - a covered up area in the side of a hill resembling a train tunnel entrance with walls flaring out on either side - but any shaft at this spot was long buried. I thought this half-heartedly at the time, but I'll be darned if the following week I didn't find a video showing that this indeed was the spot of the shaft, and it had been buried many years ago following the closure of the mine. I had been on a fools errand the entire time.
For any other adventure I might have kicked myself over my lack of research, but in this case my sloppiness paid off. If I had known this mine was buried I never would have made the trip out here to begin with, meaning I never would have found this cave, and that alone had been enough to make this day worthwhile. But as I set off on my 2 hour drive home, I soon found out my adventures weren't over just yet.
Links of Interest
World Famous Beryl Mountain Mine - by Jim "The NH Rock Guy" Pecora
Part II - A Backroad Treasure! The Beryl Mountain Car Museum
Looking to visit Beryl Mountain. Are there any visible trails going to the peak? Looking to collect some beryl and quartz.
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