motoged
Elite Nomad
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Location: Kamloops, BC
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El Barril Hacienda ????
Does anyone know about this hacienda north of the pueblo El Barril?
Google Earth: Lat: 28°19'23.91"N
Long: 112°52'29.00"W
A moto friend has an interesting story about the place when he and his group were out of gas and water ( i.e. "lost") on the No Wimps Trail a handful
of years ago....
Don't believe everything you think....
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4x4abc
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American owners, San Diego
they have some cool fly over videos on youtube
met them some years ago
decent people
Google will help you to find them
what about the story?
Harald Pietschmann
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bajatrailrider
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Quote: Originally posted by motoged  | Does anyone know about this hacienda north of the pueblo El Barril?
Google Earth: Lat: 28°19'23.91"N
Long: 112°52'29.00"W
A moto friend has an interesting story about the place when he and his group were out of gas and water ( i.e. "lost") on the No Wimps Trail a handful
of years ago....
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lets have the story 
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motoged
Elite Nomad
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Location: Kamloops, BC
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My friend's experience may have been regarding a different hacienda near El Barril....don't want to tell a misleading story....no one was hurt and no
juicy details.....I noticed this place while flying Google Earth a few years before my friend's story surfaced....
Don't believe everything you think....
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4x4abc
Ultra Nomad
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Location: La Paz, BCS
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there are 3 "haciendas" north of El Barril
plus the caretaker's compound at the airstrip
all Americans
caretaker - Mexican
all on the same property
Harald Pietschmann
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David K
Honored Nomad
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EL BARRIL ROCK HOUSE: Mormon mission or ???, a story from Choral Pepper.
[Originally posted 8-31-2012 on Baja Nomad]
Preview:
Yesterday BajaTripper (Steve), Zully and Nikki arrived from La Paz at our Oceanside home on their way north to visit 'bajalera' (Steve's mother). They
had come by way of Mision Santa Gertrudis, the painted cave near El Arco, and then went to El Barril (on their way north to Bahia de los Angeles and
San Diego).
Steve asked me about the big building above the beach there and I remembered Choral Pepper had a chapter about it in here last book:
'Baja's Missions, Mysteries and Myths' (unpublished).
Steve being a history loving guy, wanted to know more and I knew he would like to read that chapter so I pulled out of my Choral Pepper file.
While the Mormon connection may be the fact, and the rock house is built much like Fort Callville (now under Lake Mead), there may be a less dramatic
explanation for its existence? I invite anyone who knows more about the mystery house at El Barril to please add it here.
I have added two of Choral Pepper's photos of the rock house. She took them in 1966 with the Erle Stanley Gardner expedition south from Bahia de los
Angeles. Pepper first wrote about the Rock House in her third 'Magic of Baja' series (August/September 1966) of her Desert Magazine.
THE MYSTERY OF THE OLD ROCK HOUSE
Purple clouds moved over the sun as we picked our way along the rutty road to El Barril. When a sturdy old building suddenly took form through the
mist, it appeared as spooky as an Addam’s Family stage set. Weathered doors that once opened onto an encircling balcony were cracked, and the balcony
sagged, but the three stories of masonry had been executed with such precision that they seem destined for eternity. The sole occupant within those
empty walls is said to be a benevolent ghost, but the rock house of El Barril (not to be confused with El Barril on the Cape) arose long before the
ghost.
Standing high beside a protected port, it harbored both foreign and Mexican pearl smugglers around the turn of the last century when Baja’s pearl beds
were being exploited for exportation. Hillocks of eroded, bleached shells that surround the house lay as testimony to those independent entrepreneurs
who took advantage of the rock house’s secluded location to carry on their business in a tax-free atmosphere. But that wasn’t the original purpose of
the house. The intent of the German gentleman who built it was not to provide housing for pearlers, although he did have the smuggling of another,
more astonishing commodity in mind.
In 1864, Mormons in the Utah territory were having trouble with the United States government. A military fracas seemed imminent. Expected freight
shipments that had to be carried thousands of miles across prairies and mountains from eastern markets often failed to arrive, but worse, so did newly
converted European immigrants called to their Zion in Salt Lake City. To alleviate this desperate situation, Brigham Young conceived of a novel plan.
He would establish a port on the Colorado River near the fringe of the Utah territory and transport his European saints directly into the arms of Zion
via the Gulf of California to the head of navigation on the Colorado River,
Anson Call was dispatched to do the job. In record time, Fort Callville, which today lies under Nevada’s Lake Mead, arose on the banks of the Colorado
River about forty miles south of St. Thomas, a farming community on Utah’s Muddy River also now inundated by Lake Mead. With the help of fellow saints
from the Muddy River mission, Brother Call constructed a massive rock-walled warehouse 120 feet long by 30 feet wide and a substantial rock residence
for himself, both similar in structure to the rock house at El Barril.
With his storerooms completed by February, Call received a discouraging blow. It would be at least three months before anything would arrive to store
in them. Steamboats made regular progress to mines and ore mills located along the lower Colorado River, but those at the upper end had to be
ring-winched through the treacherous Black Canyon rapids. During many months of the year the water was too high and swift, or too low, to permit safe
navigation. Call learned that the best he could hope for would be three trips per month from July to November. This necessitated a plan for
safekeeping merchandise and converts brought up the Gulf on ocean-going vessels from distant ports until such time as they could be transferred aboard
a sternwheeler and transported up the Colorado to Fort Callville.
At first it was believed that gentiles (non-Mormons) at ports south would cooperate by holding goods until the upper waters became navigable, but less
than a month after the warehouse was ready for business, a steamboat captain commissioned by the Mormons to carry their freight to Fort Callville
encountered opposition. “The ports below seem to be jealous of the Mormon post,” he complained to the editor of the Deseret News. The brethren were
forced to make an independent arrangement along the Gulf of California until such time as their converts and supplies could be transported north.
El Barril had been known since Spanish days as an emergency water stop for vessels. Its remote, but accessible, location on the Gulf lent itself
ideally to the Mormon’s requirement for a place to conduct business in utmost secrecy. A German convert from the Muddy River mission, who had helped
in the construction of Fort Callville, was placed in charge. Soon the rock house rose on the beach above the luminous waters of the Gulf.
The rare Mexican vaquero who worked his way from the inland mission trail through forty-seven miles of wicked chaparral and nightmare masses of
granite to reach water at El Barril was content to believe the fancy quarters found there were built by a German trader who bartered ironwood for
goods from passing ships. Little did he know that further north such business was conducted by Indians who piled wood beside a rusty container into
which boat captains deposited chits redeemable at trading posts.
Records in Mormon archives of this endeavor are scant because the “Mormon Mission” of Baja was short lived. They made peace with Uncle Sam and the
completion of the Union Pacific Railroad promised safe delivery of freight at reasonable cost. In 1869 plans for shipping immigrants and freight to
Salt Lake City via the Colorado River were declared “unprofitable” by the Church. Both Fort Callville and El Barril were abandoned.
With time, the rock house at El Barril fared better than the old Mormon fort. Convert smugglers moved out; pearl smugglers moved in. The latter made
little use of the rock walls, finding them oppressive compared to their native mud-roofed huts with airy ocotillo walls, but water here was fresh and
in the shadeless desert it was pleasant to recline in the shadow of the old house while they shucked oyster shells.
Eventually the rock house was sold to a mining syndicate that operated inland at Calmalli and El Arco. During the mining heyday of the late 1880s, its
sturdy walls protected supplies arriving by boat, but when the mines ran out it reverted to its predestined purpose.
Prior to World War II, the Mexican government decreed it illegal to export live lobsters from Mexican waters to markets above the border. In contrast,
Uncle Sam welcomed Mexico’s Western lobsters. This resulted in another busy smuggling industry. Flyers, called “bug pilots,” cleared primitive runways
in remote spots along Baja’s coasts where they landed on prearranged schedules to pick up lobster from native fishermen. Because the shellfish had to
be delivered alive above the border, time was of the essence. Planes flown by these men were decrepit and small. The air routes they took to evade
detection were unsafe. But wind or rain, bug pilots landed on death-defying terrain or took off into solid clouds, dependable as the United States
mail used to be. Later, during the war, these same flyers were in demand to instruct bush pilots, and after the war many became commercial pilots.
But during their exciting days of trafficking in the lobster industry, it was not unusual for a pilot to arrive on an evening prior to an
early-morning appointment with his suppliers. In that event, the old rock house gave convenient shelter near the primitive landing strip that today
delivers rich vacationers to elaborate new houses rising on the beach at El Barril or to gringo fishermen coming to the nearby resort at Bahia San
Francisquito.
HERE IS the BOOK Chapter hard copy:
(for the spell checkers, the gold towns were CALMALLI and EL ARCO)
Fort Callville antique photo, now at the bottom of Lake Mead, east of Las Vegas:
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DirkEXC
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Ok Tom you start out with lost, out of gas, and water, now you have to finish the story.
From what I've learned the fun does not really start until you have done all of the above and then start the build the camp fire.
Lost on the no wimps trail it does not get any better than that. How about the story ? Please !!
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AKgringo
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| Quote: Originally posted by motoged | | My friend's experience may have been regarding a different hacienda near El Barril....don't want to tell a misleading story....
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You are worried about accuracy? Come on now....this is the internet! I suggest that you cut right to the part where the rancher's daughter was
making eyes at them, and then?
If you are not living on the edge, you are taking up too much space!
"Could do better if he tried!" Report card comments from most of my grade school teachers. Sadly, still true!
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David K
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Who's Tom?
Getting lost, broke down, stuck, arrested, etc. always makes for the best 'campfire' stories here on Baja Nomad!
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motoged
Elite Nomad
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I am not sure who your Tom is....but as the OP, I don't want to pass on a story that may be inaccurate or misleading. I was just looking for info
about these haciendas....and Harald has answered the question satisfactorily.
But if anyone knows Al Perrett in Kamloops/Bahia de los Angeles
...he could tell you his tale (Al is a legend in the Baja 1000 moto crowd and runs with the like of Bill Nichols and Malcolm Smith)...
Some of you are already creating your own interesting tale.
What I can say is that a group of about a half dozen riders got lost on their way north several years ago...one rider, Shawn, gathered some gas from
the others who had not run out, and rode off looking for a rancho or El Barril for gas and water....and eventually found a place with no one around
but with signs of very recent presence and a variety of recreational vehicles...and siphoned some gas from a quad and returned to cobble together the
group...and they all lived happily ever after.
Oh, ... it was a dark but not a stormy night...
No need for knuckledragger thief comments....and no locks were cut....
| Quote: Originally posted by DirkEXC | Ok Tom you start out with lost, out of gas, and water, now you have to finish the story.
From what I've learned the fun does not really start until you have done all of the above and then start the build the camp fire.
Lost on the no wimps trail it does not get any better than that. How about the story ? Please !! |
[Edited on 7-27-2016 by motoged]
Don't believe everything you think....
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bkbend
Senior Nomad
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Location: central OR or central baja
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I'll try and remember to ask Al about it next time I see him in Bahia. He has a way of telling a story, and it seems like every time he rides,
there's a story involved.
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