Walking the Last Mile to the Chloride Murals
Twenty miles north of Kingman, 93 is all business. Four lanes, trucks running for Vegas, and on a Saturday a steady line of pickups with boat trailers and out-of-state plates headed for the casinos. Nobody on that road is looking at the hills. I wasn't either, the first dozen times.The turn for Chloride comes up on the right with almost no warning, and four miles of county road later you are in a town that has decided, as far as I can tell, to keep its own hours. A couple hundred people, maybe. Dogs that come out to look at you and then go back to the shade. Old mining iron in the front yards, painted up or left to rust, depending on who lives there. It was a silver town once. It still looks like it is waiting to hear whether the price is coming back.What I came for is about a mile and a h...
