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The Missing Two Miles, Part I: The Search for the Lost Lead

The Missing Two Miles, Part I: The Search for the Lost Lead
Missing Gold, a Lost Cabin, and an Unanswered Question
Some mysteries are measured in miles.
Others are measured in ounces.
Few have remained as stubborn as the question surrounding a reported two-mile stretch of Althouse Creek where experienced miners believed part of the creek's expected placer gold was missing.
For more than a century, prospectors searched the surrounding hills believing the answer lay somewhere above the creek itself. They called it the lost lead: the rich source they believed had supplied the remarkable placer deposits found throughout the district.
Yet despite years of work, tunnels, shafts, and fortunes spent in the search, the mystery remained.
Why?
That question survives today not because anyone proved the answer, but because no one ever satisfactorily explained why one section of one of Oregon's richest placer creeks appeared to contain less gold than the surrounding ground suggested it should.
William Mackey recorded that question while writing about the history of Althouse Creek and the long search for the district's lost lead. According to the mining tradition he preserved, rich placer deposits occurred throughout much of the creek, yet one section seemed unexpectedly poor compared with the gravels above and below it. (William Mackey, Grants Pass Daily Courier, Golden Anniversary Edition, 1935.)

Whether that belief reflected geology, earlier mining, or something else entirely has never been conclusively answered.
A Creek That Earned Its Reputation
Althouse Creek was never an ordinary mining stream.
Gold discoveries during the early 1850s transformed the district into one of Southern Oregon's richest placer regions. Miners worked the drainage through placer operations, hydraulic mines, drift mines, and later hard-rock prospects. Mining continued for decades, leaving behind an extensive historical record preserved through reports, maps, production summaries, and geological investigations. (Oregon Department of Geology and Mineral Industries.)
The creek became especially famous for unusually coarse gold.
In 1859, Mattie Collins reportedly recovered what remains Oregon's largest recorded gold nugget from the East Fork of Althouse Creek. The nugget weighed approximately 204 troy ounces, nearly seventeen pounds troy, and reportedly sold for about $3,500, an extraordinary sum at the time. Although the nugget itself was eventually melted down, its discovery became one of the defining stories of Oregon's mining history. (Kerby Jackson; Oregon Department of Geology and Mineral Industries.)
Finds like the Collins Nugget demonstrated that Althouse Creek was capable of producing remarkable wealth.
That reputation made the reported missing two miles even more difficult for miners to ignore.
The Search for the Lost Lead
Historical accounts describe far more than a few hopeful prospectors wandering the hills.
They describe a determined search that continued across generations.
Among the most important surviving accounts is that of William Mackey, whose connection to Althouse Creek extended beyond local tradition. Mackey grew up among people whose lives had been shaped by the district's early mining years, knew many of the individuals involved, and later documented both the mining history and the long search for the lost lead.
His writings are particularly valuable because they combine family history, local memory, and firsthand knowledge of the country itself. While every historical source deserves careful examination, Mackey occupies a unique place among those preserving the history of Althouse Creek. (William Mackey, Grants Pass Daily Courier, Golden Anniversary Edition, 1935.)
Central to Mackey's account was his father, Martin Mackey.
William wrote that Martin Mackey "far outstripped all other miners" in his efforts to locate the richest lead.
That statement deserves attention.
It describes far more than casual prospecting.
Martin Mackey organized mining companies, helped drive tunnels into the hillsides, sank shafts, explored promising ground, continued searching after partners abandoned the effort, and repeatedly returned to Althouse Creek after earning new grubstakes elsewhere. According to William Mackey, years of labor and considerable expense were devoted to locating what miners believed remained hidden beneath the surrounding hills. (William Mackey, Grants Pass Daily Courier, Golden Anniversary Edition, 1935.)
The search itself became part of the district's history.
Fortunes Spent Chasing a Mystery
Today, abandoned shafts scattered throughout the Althouse country often appear quiet and forgotten.
Their weathered timbers and collapsed entrances tell little about the hopes that once surrounded them.
The photographs accompanying this article should not be interpreted as identified workings of Martin Mackey or as evidence of the Lost Cabin Mine itself.
They represent something equally important.
They illustrate the scale of effort miners considered worthwhile in their search for extraordinary wealth.
Someone believed these hills justified years of labor.
Someone believed the richest gold had not yet been found.
The tunnels, shafts, and excavations still scattered across the landscape remind us that the search for the lost lead was not merely a story repeated around campfires.
It was a serious undertaking pursued by experienced miners willing to invest years of work and substantial fortunes chasing an answer they believed existed somewhere beneath the surrounding ridges.
For many, the question was not whether the rich lead existed.
The question was simply where it had gone.
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Original concept, writing, and design by M. Hayward.