Weird Scenes from within the Rublo Chico mine

May 15, 2017 SouthAmerica

9-28-99

https://www.southamericatotheworld.com/ — Rublo Vein

The Rublo Chico mine, in the Huachocolpa district of central Peru, is currently exploiting part of a four-kilometer vein system, which has been intensively mined since about 1941. The main part of the vein system is at the Caudalosa Chica mine on the opposite side of the glacial carved valley, but this is now closed. The Rublo Chico mine is reached by a switch-backing dirt road. Choche and I had to wake up early, and make the drive up the canyon westward from the Julcani mine to meet the mine superintendent of Rublo Chico and be set up with a mine geologist for the tour.

The windshield wipers sweep aside the pelting rain as the truck tires grab at the muddy road surface. At the mine portal the wind blasts and the cold bites as I hold down my miner´s hard hat and adjust the battery pack and ready my equipment. I send my driver off to wait at the lower mine portal at the valley floor.

Once inside the mine, the air is still, cold. All seems quiet as my eyes adjust to the dark. My guide for the day, a geologist with the Compañía Minera Caudalosa S.A., named Apolino Quispe. He explains that this is a newly developed level along the vein. It is near the surface, and in fact, they have mined out the surface exposures of the vein, making the occasional skylight that sends in beams of light in to the long mine tunnel. The tunnel curves, making the ore cart rails disappear from view and leaving one listening for approaching traffic. We come to an ore chute and ascend the wood-framed chimney to examine the gallery. At the top of the wooden ladders are steel cables, compressor hoses, and wood planks that block our exit. We huddle against the chimney walls while two workers above us clear the obstacles. Even once cleared precious little space is available to climb out of the chimney because a large wench is blocking part of the access. I manage to squeeze by it, not too gracefully, but the climb is soon worth it. Overhead the vein is three-meters thick and is made of almost pure galena and pyrite. It is the thickest and highest-grade vein I have seen to date in the district. This is going to be a fun vein to explore.

We climb down to the level below, and then into another chimney cut into rock. About twenty meters down is a small round hole in the chimney wall, and my guide says into this ventana [window] we will go. He climbs into it head first, and I watch as his feet disappear. The hole goes in horizontal half a meter, and then descends one and half meters to go horizontal into a very small room (not big enough to stand up in). Another hole at ground level leads horizontally into the vein. This section I belly crawl, feeling the camera in the back of my field vest scraping along the ceiling. Two meters of this leads to a wide-open slot, the roof is ten meters up, and the floor dives down to the east at a steep angle. Two men are preparing dynamite to excavate yet more of the vein. I take a picture of them, and then shine my headlamp at the glittering vein. My guide scrambles down the rubble to a two-by-two meter hole and carefully climbs into this. With reservations, I follow him into the gaping shaft, taking careful steps. There is no ladder. Footholds on cross beams and irregularities in the rock walls have to be used. Nothing much to hold onto with the hands. The near vertical shaft has ladders lower down, and after down-climbing three meters these are a great relief. My battery pack catches on a compressor line, and then my vest gets hooked on a rusted nail sticking out of the ladder. I have to climb close to the ladder to keep from banging my back along the chimney wall. Peruvian mines are definitely scaled smaller than North American mines. I tease the miners at the next slotted opening we climb into, saying that this is the mine of flacos [flaco means skinny]. They respond with amazed smiles. Imagine how many dark and cold days they have spent underground performing hard and dangerous work. Then out of thin air appears an extranjero [foreigner] making jokes about chicas and mukis (the Peruvian equivalent of Tommyknockers). I explain to the miners that I thought I was being taken to a discoteca, and that everything is very confusing for why we had to put on headlamps to go to a discoteca. Their smiles spread from ear to ear.

Yet farther down we climb, this time taking a set of ladders recently built to cross older mine workings. The chimney is half framed in, so that the black slot of the vein gapes at our side. Thick tree trunks have been placed at regular intervals to keep the vein open, at least fifty of these cross beams fade into the darkness. Even though this route was recently built, parts of the ladders are broken, and a few difficult climbing moves are necessary. A fall could mean tumbling out of the chimney, and continuing down the open slot.

The chimney accesses an old mine level. The tracks are rusted, the ribs [side walls] lined with iron oxides, and piles of rubble are strewn throughout the tunnel, suggesting that the back [ceiling] is not that stable. Down another chimney to the lower mine level, the haulage level. As we down climb the shaft next to us suddenly booms with a load of ore dumped down it; in a roar the tumbling rocks send trembles through the wood ladders and showers us with pebbles. At the lower level, the vein is mainly filled by quartz and is worthless. We stand about discussing the reasons for this, and whether or not more metal could be found deeper in the vein. A lengthy walk takes us along the metal rails that lead to the exit. Upon leaving the portal a harsh cold Andean wind and rain assaults us.

Back down in the old mining camp we meet the mine superintendent again. He invites us for lunch in the comedor. After an hour courtesy conversation about the industry in general we repeat our thanks for the tour, and then make the long twisty drive to Julcani.

As published in “Field Days in Peru” book