Reckless Palomo Mine

May 8, 2017 SouthAmerica

9-22-99

Playing with my life, in more than one way, I examine the Palomo silver mine, which lies 246 km southeast of Lima, Peru, in the western side of the Huachocolpa district. The Palomo mine is directly east of the large Lago Choclococha. This mountain is riddled with too many old workings. There is nothing around here for hours of driving, just barren volcanic landscape and the small mine camp tucked away in the headwaters of a nameless canyon near the divide.

https://www.southamericatotheworld.com/ — Palomo Mine Gallery 1999

We entered the mine at the highest point, called the Gaviota level that is at 4,950 meters in elevation. We then work downwards through the various mine levels to the very bottom. I am being showed around the underground vein mine by a geologist and two helpers. On this very first level, well into the mountain side, walking hunched over because Peruvian miners are shorter than I am, their tunnel ceilings are low, I came to a point where I nearly rammed my eye into a piece of bent pipe hanging down from the back. I pulled up just short and cursed, what idiot left this here waiting for somebody to be blinded! Then my guide finds a ladder that goes down a black shaft.

At the 820 level, the timbers overhead are bent at a forty-five degree angle in the middle- the vein walls are coming in. Farther on, the water running in a small trench disappears down a hole next to the tracks; the floor is a wooden platform spanning the otherwise mined out vein. The water plummets through a black cascade for hundreds of meters.

At a similar sized hole, but in rock, a rope ladder leads down. I follow my Peruvian guide and parody of a geologist, through this narrow passage, descending about twenty meters, with my back scraping the hanging wall, to reach wooden planks, none too secure nor completely framing out the floor on top of the cross beams. When the planks end, just below the 770 level, it takes exceedingly wide steps from beam to beam, climbing up and down, moving us laterally through the open slot, which is gapping beneath us in blackness of unknown extent.

Once again we pass into a tunnel through rock along a two-meter thick banded quartz vein. My guide points enthusiastically while saying “Plata Roja.” Ahead the active face is being hammered upon by a jackleg. Sweet silica dust dives deep into our lungs, so as my cells are scarred I quickly gather a sample, write down notes, and then say “¡Vamos!”

An hour later we descend deeper to the lowest mine level, climbing down a shaft that has precariously balanced rocks on the platforms between ladders. One the Peruvians accidentally knocks one off and it falls a ways then rings my hard hat like a bell. I was pissed, but more scarred. Why the hell do they not send some workers through here to clean out the debris? They are content just to let people get hurt around them, unthinking about their actions or even having any concept of prevention.

At the 660 level, 4,680-meter elevation, the poor ventilation system is not functioning and the floor is under ankle-deep orange water. My guide lights a match, which burns sluggishly. He says “Gas,” and explains that if I feel bad, to tell him and we will return. We slosh down a very long tunnel to the active face. Water is gushing from the back along both faulted margins of the vein, at maybe thirty gallons a minute. Not much to see in this mess, but to my distress my guide splashes through the downpour and hammers out a sample beneath the water-lubricated fault. He returns, unslabbed, with a stupid smile on his face and a worthless sample of quartz in his gloved hand. He does not realize that if the sample were of diamonds the risk would not be worth it.

Our return trip to the surface is up a “pique”, a shaft with a cable man lift- a metal box for five people. The ascent is swift and quiet, taking us up to a mine level leading out to the surface at the 4,747 meter elevation. We walk into the sunshine, and feeling the fresh air I think, “I have had enough of this crap.” Two security guards search us, making sure that explosives are not being smuggled out of the mine (left over precautions from the terrorist years of Peru).

From top to bottom, we descended some 300 meters, or 900 feet, the entire exercise above 15,300 feet elevation, which is well above any of Colorado’s highly sought after 14neer peaks. And this is no trail hike, climbing rickety ladders, ropes, scrambling through tunnels, and climbing across beams, why? To do geology. To understand the structure of the vein, the way the minerals formed, and what these rocks being mined in the dark can say about the history of the Andes millions of years ago. To the sissy physicists in the labs, and TV shows that poke fun at geologists…I say bring it on! Geologists are made from tougher material and go through far greater hardships than stupid stereotypes being brandied about by uneducated Hollywood writers. Breakfast with a geologist is damn straight, any time over so many other career options out there.

The mine has been closed for many years, the entrances blocked by talus and debris. I have one small piece of comb-textured quartz with a sprinkling of sphalerite balls across the top of it. Some mineral dealers managed to get material from the Palomo mine, so on occasion at rock shows you may come across specimens of realgar. I never saw any of this in the vein in the areas that I explored, but other veins in the district do carry this arsenic mineral. Other specimens include fine large dodecahedrons of galena. Given that the mine will not likely be placed into production again, if one is a Peru mineral collector then it is worthwhile to grab an example specimen from Palomo when you can.