Trona is an unusual place. I first visited – well, I didn’t actually stop. Let’s say I first experienced it when I drove through it on my way to Death Valley, and that was 30 or so years ago.
Trona is a company town. The core of Trona is a mining operation and chemical plant on the “shore” of Searles Dry Lake, a vast expanse of potash and boron. In the ‘50s Trona’s workers lived in company-owned housing and were paid in company scrip. Trona had its own money (take that, San Francisco). Not all was Mid-century modern, though. The town was the setting for several strikes during the 60s through the ‘80s, one of which is memorialized in the book Trona, Bloody Trona, which is worth a read. But today, economic forces and increasing automation have turned Trona into a miniature version of the post-industrial Midwest, complete with decaying housing and apparent drug problems.
The historical marker along the road states that “half the natural elements” are found in Searles Dry Lake. It goes on to say that that the lake itself was discovered by John and Dennis Searles in 1862 and they mined it until 1897. Also noted is that the lake is the “world’s largest chemical storehouse” without defining what “large” is in this context, or for that matter what “storehouse” means.
However, the lake is rich enough to support the Searles Valley Gem and Mineral Society’s “Gem-O-Rama”. I haven’t been to one yet, but the website is here. I’m sure it’s serious work for geologists and fun for rock hounds, but to me it looks like a 12 year old boy’s dream weekend of high explosives, heavy equipment, and mud. However, the point is the minerals. The most popular is pink halite which is sodium chloride – plain table salt – colored by bacteria living in the water which the salt is deposited out of after drying. Note – use brine (available for purchase) to wash the mud off. With fresh water the pink crystal dissolves with the mud.
The Trona Pinnacles are nearby. They are not to be confused with Pinnacles National Park, 220 miles to the west-northwest, mentioned in last week’s article. Trona’s pinnacles are on a much smaller scale but are probably more famous, having appeared in a Star Trek movie.
I’m not sure why Trona occupies such a large place in my head. The fiction I’ve written (I’ve taken writing classes – not that you can tell) seems to gravitate toward there. I’m always excited to talk to anyone who has been there. I’ve watched a couple movies set in Trona. But I’ve probably not spent two hours in town in my entire life. I never had enough courage to have a beer at the “Searles Lake Yacht Club” before it burned down, and I didn’t see any need to look up any of the dozen or so churches on the “Welcome to…” sign.
It can be pretty and ugly at the same time – it’s at the foot of the Sierra and just south of Death Valley with sharp high desert air and long colorful views, but has a distinct chemical smell and miles of strangely shaped pipes and huge piles of various ores and earths. I’m sure there are plenty of friendly people there – it seems like the Gem-O-Rama is a great party. At the same time the impression you get driving through on 178 is that you’re trespassing in a factory that someone would rather you not be anywhere nearby.
I guess a lot of human experience is like that.