Location: Kern County, off the US Highway 395, CA Map
Found: 1895
Randsburg, California, is a quintessential "living ghost town" in the high Mojave Desert, where remnants of a late-19th-century mining boom coexist with a small, resilient community that keeps the Old West spirit alive. Located in Kern County along U.S. Highway 395, approximately 35 miles north of Mojave and 100 miles northeast of Los Angeles, Randsburg sits at coordinates 35°22′03″N 117°39′58″W and an elevation of about 3,500 feet (1,067 meters). Founded in 1895 amid the California gold rush, the town—originally called Rand Camp after the South African Witwatersrand mining region—once bustled with up to 3,000 residents drawn to its rich veins of gold, silver, and later tungsten. Today, with a population hovering around 69-77 year-round residents as per recent estimates, Randsburg defies full abandonment, boasting operational businesses like a general store and saloon amid weathered wooden facades, rusted mining relics, and sun-bleached hills. Designated as part of the Rand Mining District on the National Register of Historic Places in 1981, the town is not a formal state park but a privately owned historic enclave preserved through local efforts and tourism.
Randsburg's origins are rooted in the waning years of California's
gold fever, when prospectors scoured the desert for untapped riches
beyond the Sierra Nevada's exhausted placers. The town's catalyst was
the April 1895 discovery of the Yellow Aster Mine—a massive gold-bearing
quartz vein—by three opportunistic miners: John Singleton, a Missouri
farmer; Black Jack Singleton (no relation, but a colorful character with
a gambler's past); and Ed Mooers, a Canadian engineer. Dubbed the "Rand"
after the South African goldfields due to the ore's similarity, the
strike yielded over $20 million in gold (about $700 million today) at
peak production, transforming a tent camp into a roaring boomtown by
1896. The post office opened that year, solidifying Randsburg's name,
and the population exploded to 1,500 by 1897, peaking at around 3,000 in
the early 1900s as satellite camps like Johannesburg (a supply hub) and
Garlock (a milling center) sprouted nearby.
The era was one of
unbridled frontier energy: false-front saloons like the Joint and the
White House poured whiskey for claim jumpers and mule skinners; a
red-light district catered to the transient workforce; and a courthouse,
schoolhouse, and churches provided fleeting civility. Mining operations
were labor-intensive, employing Cornish hard-rock techniques—drills,
dynamite blasts, and stamp mills—to extract gold from deep shafts
reaching 1,000 feet. The Yellow Aster alone operated until 1919, but
diversification came with silver discoveries and, crucially, tungsten in
1907 at nearby Atolia, vital for steel alloys during World War I.
Randsburg became a tungsten powerhouse, supplying 90% of U.S. needs by
1916, with the Union Carbide mine booming until the 1950s. Key figures
included the Singleton brothers, who amassed fortunes but faced scandals
like claim disputes and a 1899 train robbery (unrelated but emblematic
of the lawless vibe). Socially, it was a melting pot of Anglo, Mexican,
Chinese, and Cornish immigrants, with the latter introducing pasties
(meat pies) still sold locally today. Tragedies marked the boom: mine
collapses, shootouts, and a 1903 fire that razed half the business
district, only for resilient rebuilds in wood and stone.
Randsburg's prosperity waned as inexorably as the ore veins played out. The post-World War I slump in tungsten demand, coupled with cheaper imports and the 1929 stock market crash, shuttered major operations by the 1930s. The Yellow Aster closed in 1919 after yielding $15 million, and while sporadic small-scale mining persisted—boosted briefly by WWII needs—the population plummeted from 3,000 to under 500 by 1930, and to about 100 by mid-century. Economic shifts favored larger, mechanized mines elsewhere, and the rise of automobiles bypassed Randsburg's remote location, starving it of travelers. By the 1950s, it was largely abandoned, its streets lined with boarded-up brothels and derelict assay offices. Yet, unlike fully extinct ghost towns, Randsburg never died completely: a core of miners and families clung on, turning to ranching, rockhounding, and tourism. The 1960s-1970s saw a cultural revival, with filmmakers like those behind Chopper Chicks in Zombietown (1989, starring a young Billy Bob Thornton) using its facades, and dirt bikers discovering its off-road trails. By the 2010 census, 69 residents remained, a number stable into 2025, earning its "living" moniker as shops reopened to cater to Highway 395 traffic.
Preservation in Randsburg is a grassroots triumph, driven by locals like historian Bart Parker and the Randsburg Ghost Town Chamber of Commerce, rather than state intervention. The entire Rand Mining District, encompassing Randsburg, Johannesburg, and Red Mountain, was listed on the National Register in 1981 for its role in California's mining heritage, ensuring tax credits for renovations but leaving ownership private. Efforts focus on maintaining the "arrested decay" aesthetic: the General Store (built 1930s) was restored in the 1980s with original fixtures; the old jail (1904) became a museum in 1966; and saloons like the White House (1904) were revived with period decor. The Kern County Desert Museum (open weekends) houses artifacts from 20 mines, while annual events like Old West Days (third weekend in September) feature parades, gunfights, and mining demos. As of September 2025, the town is stable and visitor-friendly, with no major incidents reported—recent X posts from August 2025 highlight its photogenic ruins and friendly locals, including photos of the jail and saloons. The population ticks along at ~70, bolstered by retirees and artists; the general store sells souvenirs and pasties, and a few B&Bs offer stays. Challenges include wildfires (a 2024 blaze nearby was contained) and vandalism, but community vigilance keeps it intact. Mining lingers symbolically—prospectors still pan the creeks under BLM permits.
Randsburg perches on a hilly plateau in the Rand Mountains, a rugged
spur of the Mojave's El Paso Range, where golden hills of decomposed
granite and Joshua trees frame views of the Sierra Nevada to the west
and Death Valley to the east. The 1-square-mile townsite includes
arroyos, mine tailings, and the dry bed of Rand Wash, supporting sparse
creosote bush, yucca, and wildflowers like lupines in spring.
Wildlife—kit foxes, roadrunners, and sidewinders—thrives in the
isolation.
The high-desert climate is extreme: blistering summers
(highs 100-110°F/38-43°C June-August) with low humidity and monsoon
thunderstorms; colorful springs (50-80°F/10-27°C) blooming with
primroses and asters; mild falls; and chilly winters (lows 10-30°F/-12
to -1°C) with occasional snow. Annual precipitation is scant at 4-6
inches, preserving wooden structures but demanding visitor preparedness
for heat and dust.
Access is easy via paved Highway 395 from
Ridgecrest (20 miles south) or Boron (15 miles north)—a 3-hour drive
from LA. No high-clearance needed for town streets, but off-road to
mines requires 4WD and BLM permits.
Randsburg's compact core packs a punch of preserved history:
General Store: A 1930s icon selling sodas, maps, and the famous "Black
Bart" sundae; doubles as a post office and info hub.
Kern County
Desert Museum: Housed in the old jail and assay office, exhibits ore
samples, tools, and photos from 20 mines; open weekends 10 a.m.-5 p.m.
White House Saloon: The oldest continuously operating bar in Kern County
(since 1904), with original backbar and ghost stories of miners'
spirits.
Old Jail (1904): A stone cell block now part of the museum,
featuring iron-barred cells and sheriff's quarters.
Mining Relics:
Scattered headframes, tailings piles, and the Yellow Aster Mine entrance
(viewable but not enterable); nearby Atolia tungsten ruins.
Butte
Avenue: The main drag with false-front shops, a church (1903), and a
cemetery with pioneer graves.
Adjacent "satellite" ghost
towns—Johannesburg (2 miles east, with a restored hotel) and Garlock (5
miles west, mill ruins)—extend the experience.
Randsburg is open 24/7 as a public road town, with no entrance
fee—perfect for a spontaneous detour off Highway 395. Allow 1-2 hours
for a self-guided stroll down Butte Avenue, peering into shops and
snapping photos of the jail and saloon exteriors. The museum ($3
suggested donation) and general store are must-stops; grab a pasty ($5)
or sundae for lunch. Best in spring (March-May) for wildflowers and mild
temps (60-80°F/16-27°C) or fall (September-October) for Old West
Days—featuring reenactments and live music (free entry, parking $5).
Summers scorch, so visit early; winters are crisp but roads may ice.
Pack water (1 gal/person), sunscreen, hat, and sturdy shoes—dusty
streets and heat demand it. No restrooms in town (use the museum's);
fuel/gas in Ridgecrest. Lodging: The Slumber Inn B&B ($80/night) or camp
at nearby BLM sites (free dispersed, $10 developed). Respect private
property—many buildings are homes; no trespassing in mines. Cell service
is spotty (Verizon best); download offline maps. Combine with Red Rock
Canyon State Park (30 miles south) for hiking or Trona Pinnacles (40
miles east) for otherworldly tufa spires. As a recent August 2025
visitor posted, it's a "time capsule of the Mojave's gritty soul"—head
there at dusk for golden-hour magic, but leave no trace in this delicate
desert relic.