The Pioneer Monument at Donner Pass marks a museum and state park dedicated to the emigrants who crossed the Sierra Nevada. Izzet Safer Shutterstock
High in the Sierra is this pistol-shaped piece of land, with the barrel aimed at Nevada state—it took the name “Nevada” (snowy) years before California’s neighbor did. The county seat is well-preserved Nevada City, but the largest town is Truckee. (There’s a story that the word “Truckee” means “Okay” in Paiute, which is yet another western legend that might not stand up to scrutiny.) Another place of note is Grass Valley, a haven of eclectic types. One is harpist/singer Joanna Newsom; another is the international courtesan Lola Montez, who lived there in the early 1850s. Nevada County’s highest peak—9,100-foot Mount Lola—is named after Montez. She was a special friend to everyone from Franz Liszt to HRH King Ludwig I of Bavaria, and maybe Alexandre Dumas fils, too.
There are abundant resources for those curious about Nevada County’s past; here are some of the standouts.
Right off the busy transcontinental Interstate 80 is a museum dedicated to the emigrants who crossed the Sierra. Before they ran the Southern Pacific railroad, the quartet of investors known as the Big Four—Charles Crocker, Leland Stanford, Collis Huntington, and Mark Hopkins—operated a fast stage route through this pass. And glorious as it is, one would have wanted to get through it as fast as possible.
Mostly what people remember about this spot and the 7,000-foot summit nearby is a famous tragedy. A group of settlers, led by the Donner brothers of Illinois, decided to try the pass in October. Their promised guide didn’t show up, and—as it often does in these mountains—winter started early. The snows of 1846-47 were unusually brutal. When a rescue party finally arrived in the spring, all the world knows what they found.
The Gold Rush was a brief space of time, with lucky prospectors finding nuggets or going home broke. After the rush ended, the really hard work began. Miners dug deep, blasted tunnels, and brought out the gold-veined quartz that was crushed into smithereens by deafening stamp mills. The Empire Mine was one of the richest and deepest mines in California—yielding many millions of ounces of gold—and it was in business almost until the 1960s. The adjacent grounds allow for some hiking to go with the history.
One of the most beloved buildings in Nevada City, this antique firehouse now contains items from the Donner Party, artifacts from the Nisenan Indians, and elements rescued from the since-vanished Chinatown.
The county’s newest museum opened up with nine displays that explore Truckee’s rich history from the time of the Martis people—the earliest known human inhabitants—up to the present.
Nevada County was indeed the serious frontier, but it was so up to date that a streetcar line connected Grass Valley and Nevada City; that’s a tidbit one learns in a museum dedicated to the importance of the railroad in this area.
Some mining towns in the Mother Lode didn’t just get abandoned; they were taken apart so that prospectors could comb the grounds to make sure they didn’t leave any yellow dirt behind. This museum gathers the heavy machinery left behind, used in the business of mining.
Some 3,000 books are here, as are many of the annals of this key area of the Old West.
Formerly known as the Squaw Valley Ski Museum, the Sierra Nevada Olympic & Winter Sports Museum changed its name to reflect not only the history associated with the 1960 Olympic Games in Squaw Valley but also to highlight the stories, legends, and personalities within the entire Sierra Nevada region. The museum is accessible by taking the tram at the Village of Squaw Valley up to High Camp.
For 90 years it was the principal local lockup, a sturdy one with a stone foundation. Famous guests include Lester Gillis, aka Baby Face Nelson, during his time out west before he partnered with John Dillinger. Also here for a spell: San Francisco–based gang leader Juanita “The Duchess” Spinelli. She was a small-timer and proud of it, leading an outfit that specialized in rolling drunks and honey trapping sailors. Spinelli’s career ended with a botched attempt to cover up a murder. She and her henches threw a dead associate off the Freeport bridge in Sacramento. They dressed the deceased in swimming trunks before they tossed him in. The coroner didn’t believe it was a drowning...and in 1941 Spinelli became the first woman executed in the San Quentin gas chamber.
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