Once upon a time I was a miner. Not for long, but long enough. I worked pretty deep, on the 6700 and 6900 levels of the Star Mine in Burke, Idaho. The level numbers indicate how far below the surface we were, so 6700 means that we were 6700 feet under the surface.
I drove a muck train with my partner Billy. We would drive the train back into the drift (commonly called a tunnel, but a tunnel has an entry and exit point while a drift just “drifts” back into the rock with no exit), stop under a chute containing rock that the miners working far above us had mined, open the chute, load the cars and then drive back to the station, which is the main area of each underground level. There we would dump the cars, each of which contain about a ton of ore, into a bigger chute, which collected ore during the day that would be carried to the surface in muck skips on the graveyard shift.
When we hauled ore (trammed muck) one of us drove the motor or engine, and the other rode on the back of the last car. A train usually had four. Each day we got a list of which chutes to pull and how many loads to haul from each by the shift boss and that was our work for the day. If we got done early, we were supposed to “maintain” the ditches next to the tracks, as in shovel them out. We usually tried not to get done too quickly. On the other hand, sometimes we didn’t get done at all because the train would jump the tracks and we would spend a lot of time jacking that darn thing back on, which was no easy feat when the motor weighed 5 tons and Billy and I combined weighed close to 250 lbs. We learned a lot of on-the-job physics.
So how did we communicate in the dark? With lights and clangs. The lights were most important. When you wear a light on your head all day, there are etiquette rules, such as never look directly at someone and blind them. You always directed the light to the side of the person’s face. The light was used for signals. To have someone move away from you, you nodded your head up and down, meaning go back. When you wanted someone to come your way, you circled your light. When you wanted someone to stop you shook your head back and forth. If you wanted them to stop fast, you shook your head really fast. Many was the time when I was helping my dad hook up the horse trailer and forgetting I was not in the mine, I would shake my head when I wanted him to stop. Head shaking never worked the same as it did underground.
And then there is the clangs, which were handier when positioning the cars under the chutes. When the guy riding the back car had the position they wanted, they would hit the edge of the car one time. If the motorman didn’t manage to stop in the right place, more signals would follow. Three clangs meant move forward. Two clangs meant move back. One meant stop. Clangs were quicker than lights for signals.
I enjoyed my time underground, but I was raised in mining. To answer the question that I get a lot, no I never minded being that deep in the earth. I much prefer it to being high in the air. Oh, but I hate heights.
Jeannie Watt raises cattle in Montana and loves all things western. When she's not writing, Jeannie enjoys sewing, making mosaic mirrors, riding her horses and buying hay. Lots and lots of hay.
Sounds like a very interesting job. What kind of ore were you mining?
It was a lead zinc mine, the deepest in the world, although there were gold mines in Africa that were deeper. the lowest level was 8100 feet beneath the surface.
Sounds like an unusual job for a woman. Did you experience any difficulties in getting hired for the position? How many hours was the shift you worked? I enjoyed the explanation of how things worked. It’s fascinating, but something I could never have done. I don’t enjoy being underground at all.
There were 4 women on a crew of close to 300 men. I happened to apply at a time when women were starting to get a toehold in the industry, so I got on. We worked 8 hour shifts and there were three shifts a day. I didn’t encounter much difficulty working as a woman on an all male crew. Because of my upbringing, I was pretty comfortable in that kind of a situation and there were a lot of really great guys who I could count on. My partner Billy was the best.
I admire you very much. That isn’t something I could do.
Thank you, Bonnie.
I had no idea mines were that deep. I can not imagine being so far underground. Thanks for all the details.
Were there many women who worked in the mines? Not sure why, I always picture miners as men.
At the time there were 4 of us on the crew. One was a single mother. Another was a lady in who 40s who was also newly single. The fourth was a secretary that was faced with a staff reduction. She knew that she had the right to ask for a transfer and the only transfer available was underground, soo she took it. She was the the second female underground hire for the company. I was the fourth.
My husband grew up in California and has worked in mines there, Nevada, and Arizona.
My husband worked in the mines in Nevada while we were there. He drove Haul Pac and he was also chief geologist at one of the mines. He liked to work both ends of an operation.
I wouldn’t have the courage to go underground. Thank you for sharing this. Very fascinating.
Thank you, Barabar!
Good morning Jeannie. That is interesting! Thanks for sharing! I’ve been in some caverns, but that is totally different!what a memory to have!
Caverns are so cool, Tracy! I’ve only been to two and I thought they were fascinating.
Wow! Can’t imagine. I too am afraid of heights. Was not when I was younger but I am now. I do ok going in caves, as long as I don’t think about where I am. lol
Yes, that not thinking thing is important. Somehow I can’t do it at heights. 🙂
I don’t think I could have ever been that deep in the earth.
As they say, after the first 50 feet, it doesn’t matter much. That said, it takes a much longer time to get out from 1000s of feet as opposed to 10s. 🙂
No thank you to heights and deep in the earth.
I totally understand your feelings, Karijean!
Thanks for the post! Very intriguing. Not sure I could do that but I would try.
That’s a great attitude, Debra!
I don’t like heights, but I’m not sure I would want to be down there, either!
There’s a lot to be said for just keeping our feet on the ground. 🙂
Oh, how funny! I can’t imagine anything worse than being in a mine and I love heights! If we ever vacation together, you can do the caves and I’ll do the hot air balloons, okay? Great and fascinating article, Jeannie!
Nan—*shudder* about going up in a balloon. I went to the Balloon Festival in Albuquerque and loved every minute but I would not go up in one of those things! 🙂
Good afternoon Jeannie , you are very brave, wow just thinking about being underground takes my breath away, I would not be able to do it. My husband works at a Uranium mine in New Mexico, we had moved from Texas to NM where he had gotten that job. He worked for a little less than 2 yrs as we had a 1 and a half year old and a newborn when we moved back to Texas, where he applied for a job while we were visiting one of my sisters . Well he got the job and we moved back to Texas of which I was very thankful for. It was kind of hard living in NM and my husband worked different shifts, we really didn’t know anybody there. We moved back to Texas where we are still residing and my husband has now been retired for about 15 years and our daughter and son are all grown up with little families of their own. It is always nice to live in a place where at least part of our family lives. I enjoyed reading your post. Thank you for posting today. Have. a great day and a great weekend.
Alicia, that sounds like difficult times indeed with young children and not knowing anyone. Different shifts are hard, too. I’m glad you got back to Texas!
Very interesting. I don’t think I could handle being in a mine that deep. I have been in a cavern but I’m not sure I could go to another one. Most of us have heard about mines but we know so little about them and what the workers actually do. Thanks for the brief look at one.
You’re very welcome, Alice. Glad to share.
Sounds like such an intestine job. Thanks for sharing your period under ground.
You’re welcome, Lori. 🙂
Your Uncle Ron likes to go underground when he gets the opportunity, must be inherited! As for me thinking about going into a closed area I get very anxious and won’t go. Thanks for sharing your experiences mining, and telling it so well!
Hi Gail! It must run in the family. Dad loved it, too. I don’t blame you for not wanting to go into a place that makes you anxious. That’s the roof for me. 🙂