Boston Hill

Of course, if you visit Silver City, you cannot call your visit complete without a stop to Boston Hill. This open space stretches out between Highways 91 and 180. On its other side, it reaches from the Truck Bypass all the way to Downtown Silver City, the site of the Big Ditch.

It is a lovely place for hiking, with trails that network between these four roads. The trails stretch up and down several large hills, including the peak from which the site gets its name.

From the top of Boston Hill, you can look down on all of Silver City, spread out beneath you in the valley. The town maintains the trails, closing eroded areas and cutting new ones. They have even placed benches, trail markers, and maps along the many trails. From the benches near the Market Street trailhead, you can even watch the sun rise over the town.

It is quiet. It is peaceful. It is beautiful.

Or is it?

We have already established that Silver City is not an ordinary town, so it should not surprise you that Boston Hill is not just a pretty hiking trail any more than the Big Ditch was simply a walking path.

You see, Boston Hill is an old mine.

A mine? You may say. That’s it? That’s the big secret?

Well, silly, it’s certainly no secret. Visit Boston Hill, and you’ll see the scars almost immediately. The land is covered in them. Massive pits that stretch hundreds of feet across. Crevasses easily a hundred feet deep. Towering cliffs with precariously perched rock high overhead.

Boston Hill is a site where the land was picked clean, where humanity tore apart the ground to find treasure within. It is land that has had holes carved into its flesh and scars gouged into its surface. For years, humans mined the life out of the land. They tore it apart, pit by pit, to find the silver and iron ore that lay within.

And when the treasure was gone? When the land failed to produce?

It was left to rot. People moved on. They built new mines, a bit further from town. They left Boston Hill to be taken back by nature. They allowed the rabbits and coyotes to move back in, the snakes to build their burrows, the grass and scrub to cover its surface. But try as she might, nature could never repair the damage. She could merely cover up the scars. The wounds remained open, the deep, old rock exposed to the world above.

This is not an uncommon story here in the southwest. The desert hides many secrets, some of which are valuable. You never know what you may find out here. And so, as you will see throughout our travels, mining was and still is common in this region. Humans swarm onto a new land and pick it clean. It is a tale as old as time, a tale which told itself right here at Boston Hill.

Of course, Boston Hill’s story doesn’t end there. Humans are always drawn to the macabre, as I’m sure you know. Perhaps that would explain why teenagers, laughing and joking and wearing shorts and flip flops, enter the caves. Or why others find their way to distant trailheads to drink and hang out, leaving behind trash and bottles and the occasional condom. Or why people – just ordinary, seemingly everyday people – would hike their way along the bottom of a crevasse or stand at the edge of a mighty pit.

Danger doesn’t feel real until we stare it in the face. And we like that feeling.

Silver City tries keep the trails safe. They fenced a large crevasse, keeping people away from the high unsteady ledges where rock threatens to crumple. They added caution signs to edges of some pits, hoping the phrase “mine features” and the image of a crumbling cliff will be enough to deter hikers. They even added a metal net over top of a deceptively small yet incredibly deep pit to keep people from falling in.

Of course, these safeguards are only useful if people heed them. If you hike the perimeter of the fence, you can find holes people have cut into its side. Even you yourself may feel drawn in closer to see the “mine features,” rather than staying back. The macabre pulls us in. It is the only explanation.

So if you take a visit up to Boston Hill, if you go to see the Earth’s mining scars and millennia of southwestern geology up close and personal, be careful. Danger is present everywhere in the desert, and Boston Hill is no exception. This place is, at least, open about its dangers. As you will soon see, this is not the case in many parts of the desert. So heed the signs and safeguards, and stay safe out there, my friend. The macabre may pull you in, but do not let it. There is still so much more for us to see.