It was, of course. And so began the great gold rush, during which half a million people–miners, speculators and prostitutes–poured into California. As chapters of national history go, this one was colorful but short: by mid-1849 the easy gold was gone. But many of the rush towns in the Sierra Nevada foothills remain, and a trip to California’s mother-lode country can be a cheap, sarsaparilla-swilling good time.
We began at the southern end of Highway 49, a twisty two-laner that winds around mountain peaks and through rolling oak-studded hills. But it’s an easy drive that, taken over four or five days, brings you through plenty of historical towns. We passed several commercial gold-panning operations, where wooden troughs are seeded with gold flakes. But we decided to strike out on our own, hiking to the river with our equipment. My kid scooped pans full of fool’s gold and was thrilled just the same. Tools and how-to books are plentiful (one tip: shake, don’t swirl). But be careful, the American and Merced rivers are mostly private. Ask locals for points of public access.
We pressed on to Sonora, where the main street’s jammed with restaurants, shops and a mosey-inducing boardwalk. The original jailhouse (now a museum), the 1859 St. James Episcopal Church, several Victorian mansions and shops from the gold-rush days are all very well preserved.
Ten minutes to the north we came upon our favorite town, Columbia (where, when gold was discovered in 1850, the population swelled to 6,000 in six weeks). Now maintained by the state, the reconditioned wooden and brick buildings seem weathered yet legitimate, despite renovation. There’s a blacksmith shop, the old stagecoach office, a Wells Fargo bank and a couple of 150-year-old saloons. Stay at the City Hotel (cityhotel.com; rates from $105), a 10-room brick boardinghouse dating to 1856.
Less than an hour’s drive north we stopped in Angels Camp, another beautifully preserved boomtown. It was here that Mark Twain wrote “The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County” in the mid-1860s, and the annual frog-jumping contest is still held each May. The Angels Camp Mercantile (now an antiques shop) is the best example of a general store.
In the town of Murphys, the register at the Murphys Hotel (murphyshotel.com; rates from $55) is signed by Twain, Ulysses S. Grant, William Randolph Hearst and Horatio Alger. I liked the hotel’s vibe (old bullet nicks near the hotel saloon’s door), but didn’t appreciate the town’s overly renovated feel, or the smoothie and espresso bars along Main Street. We continued to Mokelumne Hill, which seems to be applying for ghost-town status. The two-story Hotel Leger, with a wooden wrap-around balcony, is beautifully dilapidated, just like the rest of the two-street town (hotel leger.com; rooms from $65).
In Jackson, I could easily imagine leather-skinned forty-niners playing poker in the National Hotel’s dimly lit saloon. But the overall effect was a little too spooky for us. We preferred the Imperial Hotel in nearby Amador City (imperial amador.com; rates from $90), which once doubled as a brothel, but now boasts a wonderful gourmet restaurant.
We ended our trip panning for gold along a public stretch of the American River at Sutter’s Mill in Coloma, where the California gold rush began. Yes, real gold still tumbles down the river, washed from veins in nearby mountains. And never you fret. We left plenty behind for you to find. Happy hunting.
