Jack Mitchell of Mitchell Caverns
The Mitchell Caverns are located 12 miles northwest of the Essex Rd. turnoff along the Interstate 40 freeway, either 60 miles west of Needles or 115 miles east of Barstow about as deep into the Mojave Desert as one can get. The caverns started forming as far back as 225 million years ago and continued up until 11,000 years ago. There are three caves; Tecopa is the main cave connected to the second, f El Pakiva. Several miles to the north, closed to the public, is the Cave of the Winding Stairs. Inside of the caverns spectacular and intricate limestone formations can be seen such as stalagmites, stalactites, helictites, lily pads curtains, draperies and cave popcorn.
Native Americans made use of the caves at different times starting around 600 years ago until about 150 years ago. The caves were common knowledge to the folks in the area. A man named Mark Petit pointed them out to Mitchell during on his first visit in 1929. Jack filed a mining claim on the caves in 1930 with the idea of developing them into a tourist attraction initially know as the Crystal Caves. What follows is not the story of the geology of the caves or the mountain, but the story of the stories of Jack Mitchell.
Jesse Estes "Jack" Mitchell was born July 20, 1882 in Texas, and maybe it was the time spent growing up there that turned Jack into such a great storyteller. Texans are known for their tall tales and the ease in which with every telling, the story becomes larger. I'd put him into the master class along with other desert characters like Shorty Harris and Walter Scott (Death Valley Scotty) that could put an unbelievable story into your ears with such finesse and smoothness as to make it, well, believable. For instance:
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I'd started cooking breakfast and had a good fire going. The coffee was scalding hot and I was getting my bacon fried up in the pan
when then wind picked up. By picked up I mean it picked up the fire and blew it off and across the desert. I grabbed my pan full of
half-cooked bacon and started chasing after it. It took awhile as the strong winds shifted this way and that way, but I finally caught
up with it and finished cooking my breakfast. I turned around to pour myself a cup of coffee and found I was 19 miles away from where I
left my coffee pot.
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The arrangement was to pull me up after two sharp jerks on the rope. After being lowered some I hear, "Jack, I've already got one big
jerk on the rope." I begin to wonder if he may be right.
Broken stalactites
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Jack Mitchell of Mitchell Caverns
Living at the Caverns
Nothing but Jackrabbits
The Saddest Story
Mitchell Caverns
Caverns Geology
Caverns Gallery
