Hopefully there are fewer crucified powder gangers this time.
http://www.slate.com/articles/news_...lifornia_is_trying_to_reinvent_itself_as.html
The tiny mining town of Nipton is trying to transform itself once again: this time, into a marijuana destination nonpareil.
The first thing you notice in Nipton, California, is the silence. When the breeze picks up, you might hear leaves rustling in the distance or a rhythmic clang as the wind lifts a rope, then snaps it back down against a metal flagpole. But on a still day, you don’t hear anything. No cars, no voices, no birds, no airplanes, nothing.
The tattered outpost of about 20 residents sits on the bottom of a prehistoric lake bed on the northern edge of the Mojave National Preserve. Scrub brush stretches out for miles to the rim of the long- forgotten lake. On the horizon sit mountains that hold the only known dinosaur footprints in California. This valley—called Ivanpah, meaning sweet water in the Southern Paiute language—is so desolate that it inspired a post-apocalyptic wasteland backdrop in the video game Fallout: New Vegas.
The absence of sound is why the Union Pacific freight train is so jarring as it pierces the pristine silence. The train is so loud that guests of the town’s five-room adobe-style hotel are handed earplugs upon check-in.
“Did the train come through this morning? I have lived here so long I don’t even hear it anymore,” says Jim Eslinger, exploding into a fit of laughter. Eslinger is the town’s self-appointed “mayor.” A former long-haul trucker from Washington state, he has lived in Nipton for eight years—longer than any other current resident. Like many who have spent a large amount of time in this isolated town, Eslinger stumbled upon Nipton searching for gold.
“My friend wanted to find a river of gold he remembered seeing as kid somewhere in Nevada,” he says. “We searched for two months and didn’t find anything but this town. And now I am in paradise.”
Paradise for Eslinger is this little piece of unincorporated San Bernardino County, an hour south of Las Vegas and about two miles west of the Nevada state line. It is not so much a town as a pull-off on the side of the road. Just past the railroad track is a gravel parking lot next to the Nipton Trading Post, a general store that sells dry goods, refreshments, and guidebooks; the Whistle Stop Café; and the Nipton Hotel. Behind the hotel sits a handful of tented ecolodges. Residents live across the road in their trailers. There is no stop sign, no postal service, no gas station, not even a sidewalk. But that is all about to change.
American Green, the largest publicly traded cannabis company in the United States, bought this tiny town in hopes of creating the country’s first cannabis-friendly, energy-independent hospitality destination. It plans to spend $2.5 million over the next 18 months transforming Nipton into a town that includes hundreds of hotel rooms, mineral baths, a craft brewery, farm-to-table dining experiences, a cannabis farm, artist-in-residence programs, and plenty of marijuana-related businesses, such as cultivators and glassblowers.
American Green also plans to build a production hub for cannabis-based products starting with bottling and distributing cannabidiol-infused water directly from a local aquifer. Cannabidiol—or CBD, as it is commonly known—is the nonpsychoactive part of cannabis that has anti-inflammatory and anti-anxiety properties but does not give users a high.
“We are excited to lead the change for a true ‘Green Rush,’ ” writes David Gwyther, president of American Green, in a statement. “The Cannabis Revolution that’s going on here in the U.S. has the power to completely revitalize communities, the same way gold did during the 19th century.”
Nipton is a lingering reminder of the era before the West was won. It started as the Nippeno mining camp in the late 1800s; nestled near two covered-wagon trail crossings, it was a perfect congregation point for miners and prospectors when gold was discovered in the area. In 1905, a railroad connecting Salt Lake City and Los Angeles—the brainchild of Nevada senator and copper baron William Clark—opened on the edge of the Nippeno Camp. Passengers from miles around traveled to the little Nippeno whistle stop with their freight and cattle to catch the train.
In 1913, Harry Trehearne, a Cornish miner from England, immigrated to America and settled in Nipton. He opened a general store, restored the Hotel Nipton, and dug the first water well. Under the Homestead Act, President Franklin Roosevelt transferred the title of Nipton to Trehearne, who held it until 1956. From 1956–84, the town passed through the hands of six owners. In 1984, Gerald Freeman, a Caltech-trained geologist prospecting for gold in the Mojave Desert, stumbled on the town and bought it for $200,000. At the time, Nipton’s sole resident lived in the trading post, selling refreshments to wayward travelers on their way to somewhere else.
http://www.slate.com/articles/news_...lifornia_is_trying_to_reinvent_itself_as.html
The tiny mining town of Nipton is trying to transform itself once again: this time, into a marijuana destination nonpareil.
The first thing you notice in Nipton, California, is the silence. When the breeze picks up, you might hear leaves rustling in the distance or a rhythmic clang as the wind lifts a rope, then snaps it back down against a metal flagpole. But on a still day, you don’t hear anything. No cars, no voices, no birds, no airplanes, nothing.
The tattered outpost of about 20 residents sits on the bottom of a prehistoric lake bed on the northern edge of the Mojave National Preserve. Scrub brush stretches out for miles to the rim of the long- forgotten lake. On the horizon sit mountains that hold the only known dinosaur footprints in California. This valley—called Ivanpah, meaning sweet water in the Southern Paiute language—is so desolate that it inspired a post-apocalyptic wasteland backdrop in the video game Fallout: New Vegas.
The absence of sound is why the Union Pacific freight train is so jarring as it pierces the pristine silence. The train is so loud that guests of the town’s five-room adobe-style hotel are handed earplugs upon check-in.
“Did the train come through this morning? I have lived here so long I don’t even hear it anymore,” says Jim Eslinger, exploding into a fit of laughter. Eslinger is the town’s self-appointed “mayor.” A former long-haul trucker from Washington state, he has lived in Nipton for eight years—longer than any other current resident. Like many who have spent a large amount of time in this isolated town, Eslinger stumbled upon Nipton searching for gold.
“My friend wanted to find a river of gold he remembered seeing as kid somewhere in Nevada,” he says. “We searched for two months and didn’t find anything but this town. And now I am in paradise.”
Paradise for Eslinger is this little piece of unincorporated San Bernardino County, an hour south of Las Vegas and about two miles west of the Nevada state line. It is not so much a town as a pull-off on the side of the road. Just past the railroad track is a gravel parking lot next to the Nipton Trading Post, a general store that sells dry goods, refreshments, and guidebooks; the Whistle Stop Café; and the Nipton Hotel. Behind the hotel sits a handful of tented ecolodges. Residents live across the road in their trailers. There is no stop sign, no postal service, no gas station, not even a sidewalk. But that is all about to change.
American Green, the largest publicly traded cannabis company in the United States, bought this tiny town in hopes of creating the country’s first cannabis-friendly, energy-independent hospitality destination. It plans to spend $2.5 million over the next 18 months transforming Nipton into a town that includes hundreds of hotel rooms, mineral baths, a craft brewery, farm-to-table dining experiences, a cannabis farm, artist-in-residence programs, and plenty of marijuana-related businesses, such as cultivators and glassblowers.
American Green also plans to build a production hub for cannabis-based products starting with bottling and distributing cannabidiol-infused water directly from a local aquifer. Cannabidiol—or CBD, as it is commonly known—is the nonpsychoactive part of cannabis that has anti-inflammatory and anti-anxiety properties but does not give users a high.
“We are excited to lead the change for a true ‘Green Rush,’ ” writes David Gwyther, president of American Green, in a statement. “The Cannabis Revolution that’s going on here in the U.S. has the power to completely revitalize communities, the same way gold did during the 19th century.”
Nipton is a lingering reminder of the era before the West was won. It started as the Nippeno mining camp in the late 1800s; nestled near two covered-wagon trail crossings, it was a perfect congregation point for miners and prospectors when gold was discovered in the area. In 1905, a railroad connecting Salt Lake City and Los Angeles—the brainchild of Nevada senator and copper baron William Clark—opened on the edge of the Nippeno Camp. Passengers from miles around traveled to the little Nippeno whistle stop with their freight and cattle to catch the train.
In 1913, Harry Trehearne, a Cornish miner from England, immigrated to America and settled in Nipton. He opened a general store, restored the Hotel Nipton, and dug the first water well. Under the Homestead Act, President Franklin Roosevelt transferred the title of Nipton to Trehearne, who held it until 1956. From 1956–84, the town passed through the hands of six owners. In 1984, Gerald Freeman, a Caltech-trained geologist prospecting for gold in the Mojave Desert, stumbled on the town and bought it for $200,000. At the time, Nipton’s sole resident lived in the trading post, selling refreshments to wayward travelers on their way to somewhere else.
