May Road Trip Part II: Berlin-Ichthyosaur State Park in Nevada

Berlin-Ichthyosaur State Park

Just over two hours southeast of Reno, and a few lonely stretches of highway later, we finally arrived at Berlin-Ichthyosaur State Park in Nevada.  (Note: The nearest town of Gabbs is 23 long miles away.)  The windy two-lane dirt road that leads into the park is narrow and bumpy, but a sedan can maneuver around potholes if the weather permits.  Rain was forecasted for the next day, so we were met with dramatic thunderheads and various pockets of sunlight and darkness the entire afternoon, which lent a foreboding feel to our visit.

Taking a left at the fork in the road, we entered the ghost town of Berlin.  The right fork goes to the dinosaur fossil.  I had read numerous online reviews before planning this trip, so the small number of buildings left in the place didn't surprise me.  One house actually looked inhabited, perhaps by one of the park rangers.  A plastic child's tricycle or car sat in the front yard.

                           

As we drove through the ghost town, we didn't find many fellow tourists, so we took a narrow backroad from the ghost town to the ichthyosaur fossil a mile or two away.  According to the park's website, ichthyosaur fossils were found in the area as early as the 1920s.  However, most fossils were excavated in the 1950s-60s.  Ichthyosaurs were big marine reptiles that lived over 90 million years ago in the area when Nevada was still covered by the ocean.  

                            

It was at the fossil site that we found a handful of cars and a large gathering of people--a ranger-led tour was about the begin.  We graciously skipped out on the 40-minute tour, opting instead to peer through the window to look at the remains.  My impression of the fossil: huge.  It spanned the length of a few cars; a photo isn't shown here because my photo did not do the fossil justice.  Above is my photo of an ichthyosaur mural outside the building.  

We drove back to the desolate ghost town, which is more our cup of tea.

                         

Above is a view of Berlin from near the backroad that leads to the ichthyosaur spot.  Throughout this tiny sprawl of civilization, we found interpretative signs that gave some information about the building's previous inhabitants, as well as about the Berlin Mine and the Diana Mine.  The town of Berlin was first mined for gold in the 1860s, hit its high point in the early 1900s, and then largely faded away by the 1910s.

Below is an interesting building that was inhabited in the 1970s (or so the sign says), making Berlin not quite an old ghost town.  A no trespassing sign still sits visibly on the building, as does an outhouse a short distance away.  

                            

Next to this patchwork building are the remains of substantial mining activity, including an old car, mill, and a large tailings pile.  I think this is the Berlin Mine.

                            

                            

We then meandered down the short road into town.  Left in a state of "arrested decay," Berlin has minimal upkeep to stabilize buildings and other structures.  Yet, I found modern insulation and hardware everywhere (to maintain structural integrity).  Also, there were remnants of turn-of-the-century civilization--ceramics, glass bottles and shards, and the like--laying around outside on tables.  I guess visitors aren't as brazen as those who visit Berlin's famous ghost-town cousin, Bodie, CA.  Sadly, I could easily see someone stealing a relic from the latter!

                            

                          

                            

                            

At the entrance of town is the Diana Mine, which was privately owned and its profits never released as public record (see below).  Isn't the panoramic view beyond the mine breathtaking?  You can see the road we took to enter the park if you look closely into the horizon.

                   
                          

                                Diana Mine
                                (view of the road leading to the park)

Afterthoughts:

While literally in the middle of nowhere, we enjoyed this out-of-the-way trek to Berlin-Ichthyosaur State Park in Nevada.  The ghost town resonated more with us than did the dinosaur fossil site, but then we prefer solitude to interacting extensively with people.  

In comparison to Bodie, this site has far fewer buildings and its history is not researched as thoroughly (as shown on historical building markers).  Also, Berlin isn't quite my definition of a ghost town in a state of "arrested decay."  However, I enjoyed the stillness, historical relevance (gold rush town), and panoramic view that Berlin gives its visitor--it's easy to imagine a town dweller there, in times past, staring out into the roving wildness and daydreaming about days ahead.  This is something that Bodie, with its throng of of visitors, does not offer.

                         

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Read Part I of this road trip here.

Our trip to Bodie can be read here.

1860s Oroville Chinese Temple

Oroville Chinese Temple (1863)
 in Oroville, CA (located at the Sierra foothills)--
image from NoeHill.

Earlier this summer, we visited the historic Oroville Chinese Temple.  The information provided in this post is from my own experience coupled with information found in the Oroville Temple brochure.  All photos are my own except for the one above.

Temple History:

The Oroville Chinese Temple originally served as place of worship for the sizable mid-19th-to-early-20th-century Chinese American population (estimated at 3,000 to 10,000 people) in Oroville.  This largely immigrant population was comprised mainly of laborers, but also included merchants and their families (some of whom were born in the US), thus creating a Chinese American community, or Chinatown, in Oroville.  

In 1907, an Oroville flood badly damaged the once-thriving Chinatown that surrounded the temple.  As a result, the Chinese American population began a mass exodus to metropolitan areas, such as San Francisco and Sacramento, where there were established Chinese American communities and work was more plentiful.  The Chinese Temple in Oroville was eventually deeded to the city of Oroville in 1937.  It was only in 1949, after restoration work was started by the Oroville Women's Community Club, that the Chinese temple was again open to the public.  

Now, the historical temple functions mainly as a comprehensive museum, which boasts an impressive collection of of historical relics with vast relevance for Chinese American, Gold Rush, and California-specific history.  Beyond the temple/museum, two other buildings, and a few plaque markers and outdoor artifacts, Oroville's Chinatown is now long gone.  

Plaque marker noting the site's
historical significance.

The Anti-Chinese Movement:
During this time period, vehement racism against the Chinese in America culminated in the passage of two historic anti-Chinese laws that severely restricted the legal entry of this racial group to the United States: Chinese Exclusion Act (1882-1943) and its predecessor the Page Law of 1875 (the latter of which excluded the immigration of Asian women to the US, but was aimed primarily at Chinese women).  Historically speaking, these two laws are notable in that they were the first-ever US laws whose specific target was a racial group as a whole.  As a result, the Page Law and the Chinese Exclusion Act set a historical precedent for race-based immigration to the US, whose legacy is the immigration quotas we know today.  The anti-Chinese movement, which was dubbed the Yellow Peril, or the irrational fear of an Asian invasion and takeover of white America, fueled the renewals (and the subsequent permanency) of the Chinese Exclusion Act until the law's eventual repeal in 1943.  These race-based laws were enacted on a local as well as national level through both legislation and anti-Chinese sentiment, which collectively affected all Chinese (both immigrant and American born) residing in the US.

The Temple Grounds:
Rather unassuming, the Oroville Chinese Temple is actually comprised of four original rooms (three for worship), plus a large tapestry and clothing/artifact display hall that itself spans three rooms, as well as a replica of an 1860s Chinese worker's hut, a courtyard garden, and the Fong Lee Room (the newest addition, which was built in 2008 as a gift from the descendants of the founding Chin/Chan family).  

The Chan Room 

Initial Thoughts:
Unaware of the once-booming Chinese presence in Oroville, I was amazed at how comprehensive the temple grounds were, including the sheer number of cultural relics displayed and the large size of the complex, itself.  Additionally, the structural upkeep by the city of Oroville is commendable.

The museum docent was a middle-aged woman who gave off a hippie-meets-New-Age vibe.  She eyed us a little warily at first, presumably because I wore a large backpack and we touted cameras.  She soon did warm up to my presence while I waited in the gift shop/museum entrance for my husband, who kindly went to stow my backpack in the car.  Note: Security cameras are installed in every room of the complex, as well as in the courtyard, and are religiously monitored by the museum docent in the gift shop room.  If you take photos, flash is prohibited in order to preserve the artifacts.

The Self-guided Tour:

Beyond the gift shop, the first room that we toured was the main chapel (not shown here).  The main chapel was built in 1863 after burning down twice before, which makes it the oldest surviving room in the temple.  Relatively untouched over the years, beyond some odd hippie-ish decorations that were added to the altars, in the room sits numerous 19th-century religious cultural artifacts that are very dusty and paper-thin delicate with age.  In this room, one can perceive and feel its extensive historical significance by merely walking into it.

The Chan Room, the second room of worship, can be accessed without having to enter the temple complex.  To visit the Chan Room, enter to the open door to the left of the museum entrance.

Chan Room relic from the mid-to-late 1800s.

In the middle of the museum/temple sits the courtyard, which is filled with Chinese plants and a small fish pond.  A small garden in a traditional layout remains, and guests can sit on benches that hold plaques with donors' names on them.  This courtyard separates the tapestry room from the four original rooms.

Garden inside the complex walls with Chinese plants,
as seen from the second story.

The staircase can be accessed from the courtyard to view the Moon Temple (not shown), which showcases a unique moon-shaped brick doorway entrance to the temple room.  Structural issues can be seen here, and the ground is a little unstable underfoot--we tread lightly here, and didn't linger for too long.

Staircase to the upper level where the Moon Temple
(not shown) is housed.

View from the upper level,
where a modern security camera can be seen. 

Directly below the Moon Temple, on the first floor, is the Council Room, which held the most varied historical items: marble-seated chairs, pagoda-style altars, tables, and books that displayed handwritten documentation.  Just as the name states, the Council Room served as a civic center for Oroville's Chinese American community.

The Council Room downstairs,
below the Moon Temple.

In the Council Room, Chinese workers could have letters written and sent to family back in China, disputes could be settled, banking carried out, and advice given.  

The Council Room

Tall, thick bamboo in the garden.

Plaque in front of the Fong Lee Room,
 which was a gift of the Chin (Chan) Shew Ting Family trust
in 2008 to honor their ancestors who helped
shape Oroville's once-large Chinatown.  

Inside the Fong Lee Room is a genealogy chart which indicates that descendants of this prominent 19th-century immigrant Chinese family are now in their 5th and later generations.  This was an interesting item to see because most people view Chinese as immigrants, but this genealogy chart counters that assumption.

Afterthoughts:
A great self-guided tour that we took at our own pace, I was pleasantly astounded by the time and care put into the preservation and presentation of the museum's many artifacts.  There was an abundance of glass cases and dehumidifiers in certain display rooms, as well as informative signs that did not visually overwhelm the displayed objects.  As I've mentioned here, the sheer amount of artifacts was extremely fascinating.  

What We Did Not Do: 
We did not visit the mannequin room because it was creepy and dark.  The room showcased Chinese and Western attire on life-size mannequins, some of which were physically altered to "appear Asian."  Additionally, the Asian music playing in the tapestry room was rather too Orientalized for my discerning palate as well, although the collection was extensive and well displayed.

Conclusion:

However hippie-Orientalized-camera-ized the temple complex was in certain areas, I found the place to be an extremely well-curated and interesting post-Gold Rush-era museum, actually rivaling the amazing Downieville museum that I blogged about here.  Although there was so much to see at the Oroville Chinese Temple, I was not visually overwhelmed--nor did I feel rushed to take it all in.  I credit this to the layout of the original four rooms, which were kept as they were over the years.  This unique set up gave the complex more of an old-time temple feel--with each room providing its own historic ambience and mood--rather than that of a traditional museum.

Interestingly, upon our conclusion of the self-guided tour, the hippie-New-Age museum docent told us that the reason why the Oroville Temple has retained so many artifacts is because the complex was used as storage space for Chinese items!

One of the other Oroville Chinatown buildings left

I highly recommend visiting this historic Oroville Chinese temple for its wealth of artifacts, and its well-documented history of what is now a long-gone American Chinatown.  For more information: UC Berkeley's The Bancroft Library houses a comprehensive online collection of photographs from Oroville's Chinatown.  This collection can be found here.

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Our road-trip travels also took us to see Mendocino's historic Temple of Kwan Tai, which I happily blogged about here.

Road Trip: Downieville, CA

Continuing from my last post, we also visited historic Downieville, CA, a vibrant, history-laden Gold Rush town in Sierra County this past week.  I took few photos worth publishing, but what is truly worth noting is the town's museum--it's small but well curated, and gives one a true sense of 19th century life in a rough miner's town.  Housed in a building initially occupied by a Gold Rush-era Chinese business, the museum contains various mining equipment, 19th century women's clothing, a stuffed mountain lion, a small-scale model of the town in its heyday, American Indian artifacts, a two-shelf Chinese exhibit, and numerous other artifacts of interest.  Its historic eclecticism amazed us both.

According to the museum docent--a middle-aged woman who grew up in Downieville, went to college elsewhere, and later returned--the mountains surrounding the town had a Chinese population estimated around 3,000 people.  The population was not only composed of miners, but also entrepreneurs, cooks, and hard laborers, the latter of which were integral in building many of the stone structures still visible in the town.  

Downieville (like most Gold Rush towns) is a destination whose very existence--one may argue--relies on its marketing as a colorful tourist spot, but it is a thriving community, as well.  On that note, I was secretly relieved that there were not any residents dressed in 19th century garb when we stopped by, but I can see why this theatrical, rough-and-ready nostalgia appeals to a particular demographic: it is the ultimate form of escapism for the city-drained population.  Visiting tourism-driven old towns is the closest we can get to the oftentimes romanticized past, literally, without having to directly experience it.  Beyond the tourism facade lies a so very American past that has immensely shaped its history. 

Weaverville Joss House

This month, we are trying to make a trip to the Weaverville Joss House, a California state park in danger of closure by this summer (short video below and some history a few paragraphs down).  Over 70 state parks are on this closure list, which was instituted last year by Gov. Brown in a feeble attempt to close the state's budget gap.  As this summer nears, I fondly look back to our early autumn vacation last year, blogged about here, which included a trip to another park on the closure list.

At times like these, I get so angry and frustrated by our bureaucracy, our lack of a cohesive governmental structure.  I want to slap the hands of the greedy, in addition to desperately wanting to redistribute the wealth and the misappropriated funds.  Difference of politics or not, a viable, workable solution cannot be implemented when a bipartisanship does not fully acknowledge and own up to their respective finger-pointing.  Things must be done for the public good, rather than for individual or corporate interests--even if we are down deep in a wad of debt.  Like my pun?  I know that I am not alone in this thought.

Weaverville Joss House: History

"The Chinese population of Weaverville started to decline after the 1850s, as gold ore became scarcer, and many left to work on railroad construction. By 1931 only 16 were counted in town. In 1933 the Weaverville Chamber of Commerce went on record in support of making the Joss House a State Historic Park, but nothing came of the proposal for another 23 years. Without the efforts of Moon Lim Lee, the Weaverville Joss House probably would not have survived. Moon Lee started his business career at the age of seven, selling vegetables from a horse-drawn cart. He continually improved and extended his enterprises and became a successful grocer and merchant. He worked constantly in his later years to preserve the Joss House and get it added to the State Park System. He was appointed trustee of the temple in 1938. Moon Lee continued to promote the Joss House as a historic treasure for his own people and for all California and the world until his death in 1985, at the age of 82."  (From here)

"Moon Lim Lee, the last Chinese caretaker for the Weaverville Taoist Temple, formed the Weaverville Joss House Association in 1983. Mr. Lee and his wife Dorothy donated the "The Temple of the Forest beneath the Clouds" to the California State Parks in 1956 to preserve the structure and increase awareness of the cultural contributions made by the Chinese in California. Today the association continues to support the State Park effort in preserving the temple, built by Mr. Lee's ancestors in 1874."  (From here)

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Politics aside, as a descendant of Gold Rush-era Chinese male immigrants to the US, I would really hate to see a part of history from that era, gone.  This video truly sums up my sentiments.

Another state park with Chinese American history, China Camp, will close in July, making it probable that two state parks with a race-based history will close this year.  There are just too many coincidences and ironies in that act alone...


5/23/12 UPDATE:
Funding goals have been met and agreements have been made--the Weaverville Joss House will stay open for the next year!