Bagdad date to as early as 1875 with the establishment of a small camp at the site and mines in the surrounding mountains. However, it is the construction of a siding in 1883 by the Atlantic & Pacific Railroad that serves as Bagdadâs agreed-upon date of origin.
The growth of Bagdadâwhat there was of it, anywayâcentered on the railroad, which supplied the needs of remote mines in the area, specifically the Orange Blossom and the War Eagle, as well as shipping ores from a nearby mill. By 1889, the town was large enough to warrant a post office. Two decades later, the remote outpost of civilization consisted of a small depot, a commissary, saloons, a hotel, and even a Harvey House restaurant that catered mostly to railroad employees.
Following the closure of the areaâs largest mines, a devastating fire erased most of the business district in 1918. The second blow, consolidation of railroad service and repair in Needles and Barstow, followed almost immediately. Only the traffic on the National Old Trails Highway, and later Route 66, prevented complete abandonment.
Today, Bagdad is a historical footnote. Only sand-obscured concrete foundations, a sign designating a railroad siding, a forlorn but surprisingly well-maintained cemetery, and an unofficial railroad record indicating 767 consecutive days between 1912 and 1914 without rain remain to mark its place in history. This is truly a Route 66 ghost town.
Ludlow maintains a faint pulse in the form of a café, service stations, and a motel that serve the occasional Route 66 or Interstate 40 traveler. These businesses, as well as the array of remnants in various stages of decay, hint of better times but offer little clue thatâlong before the designation of a highway as U.S. 66âthis was a town with a promising future.
Ludlow, as with most Route 66 towns in the Mojave Desert, owes its founding to the railroad and the establishment of sidings at regular intervals during the early 1880s. Moreover, the town named for railroad employee William Ludlow, as with other railroad stops in the desert, owed its initial growth to mining. There the similarities end.
A shortage of dependable wells in Ludlow necessitated the shipping of water by rail from Newberry Springs to the west. By 1900, the limitations on growth were resolved, and Ludlow began to prosper as a supply center. Further fueling growth and the townâs prominence in the summer of 1905 was the establishment of the Tonopah & Tidewater Railroad, which linked the main line with the mining boom in the area of Tonopah, Rhyolite, and Beatty in Nevada. Following this line was the establishment of another spur line, the Ludlow & Southern Railroad, which connected the main eastâwest line of the Santa Fe Railroad with the Buckeye Mining District eight miles to the south.
The boom fueled by the railroad spurs was beginning to ebb when motorists began rolling through town on the National Old Trails Highway. In his 1946 guidebook, Rittenhouse notes, âAlthough quite small, Ludlow appears to be a real town in comparison to the one establishment places on the way here from Needles.â
While most of Ludlowâs remnants date to the glory days of Route 66 (roughly 1946 through the 1960s), there are a few notable exceptions. Among these are the 1908 Ludlow Mercantile, severely damaged in a 2006 earthquake, a few old homes, and a haunting desert cemetery.
Gas stations like this once crowded both sides of the highway in Ludlow, but today only one remains open.
Joe Sonderman collection
The listing of generator repair as a service offered dates the ruins of a garage along Route 66 in Ludlow.
Jim Hinckley
Built in 1908, the Ludlow Mercantile/Murphy Brothers Store stood as an empty shell for more than half a century until an earthquake reduced it to rubble.
Jim Hinckley
NEWBERRY SPRINGS
AFTER DECADES OF EMULATING LUDLOW in its downward spiral, Newberry Springs (Newberry before 1967) is
The growth of Bagdadâwhat there was of it, anywayâcentered on the railroad, which supplied the needs of remote mines in the area, specifically the Orange Blossom and the War Eagle, as well as shipping ores from a nearby mill. By 1889, the town was large enough to warrant a post office. Two decades later, the remote outpost of civilization consisted of a small depot, a commissary, saloons, a hotel, and even a Harvey House restaurant that catered mostly to railroad employees.
Following the closure of the areaâs largest mines, a devastating fire erased most of the business district in 1918. The second blow, consolidation of railroad service and repair in Needles and Barstow, followed almost immediately. Only the traffic on the National Old Trails Highway, and later Route 66, prevented complete abandonment.
Today, Bagdad is a historical footnote. Only sand-obscured concrete foundations, a sign designating a railroad siding, a forlorn but surprisingly well-maintained cemetery, and an unofficial railroad record indicating 767 consecutive days between 1912 and 1914 without rain remain to mark its place in history. This is truly a Route 66 ghost town.
Ludlow maintains a faint pulse in the form of a café, service stations, and a motel that serve the occasional Route 66 or Interstate 40 traveler. These businesses, as well as the array of remnants in various stages of decay, hint of better times but offer little clue thatâlong before the designation of a highway as U.S. 66âthis was a town with a promising future.
Ludlow, as with most Route 66 towns in the Mojave Desert, owes its founding to the railroad and the establishment of sidings at regular intervals during the early 1880s. Moreover, the town named for railroad employee William Ludlow, as with other railroad stops in the desert, owed its initial growth to mining. There the similarities end.
A shortage of dependable wells in Ludlow necessitated the shipping of water by rail from Newberry Springs to the west. By 1900, the limitations on growth were resolved, and Ludlow began to prosper as a supply center. Further fueling growth and the townâs prominence in the summer of 1905 was the establishment of the Tonopah & Tidewater Railroad, which linked the main line with the mining boom in the area of Tonopah, Rhyolite, and Beatty in Nevada. Following this line was the establishment of another spur line, the Ludlow & Southern Railroad, which connected the main eastâwest line of the Santa Fe Railroad with the Buckeye Mining District eight miles to the south.
The boom fueled by the railroad spurs was beginning to ebb when motorists began rolling through town on the National Old Trails Highway. In his 1946 guidebook, Rittenhouse notes, âAlthough quite small, Ludlow appears to be a real town in comparison to the one establishment places on the way here from Needles.â
While most of Ludlowâs remnants date to the glory days of Route 66 (roughly 1946 through the 1960s), there are a few notable exceptions. Among these are the 1908 Ludlow Mercantile, severely damaged in a 2006 earthquake, a few old homes, and a haunting desert cemetery.
Gas stations like this once crowded both sides of the highway in Ludlow, but today only one remains open.
Joe Sonderman collection
The listing of generator repair as a service offered dates the ruins of a garage along Route 66 in Ludlow.
Jim Hinckley
Built in 1908, the Ludlow Mercantile/Murphy Brothers Store stood as an empty shell for more than half a century until an earthquake reduced it to rubble.
Jim Hinckley
NEWBERRY SPRINGS
AFTER DECADES OF EMULATING LUDLOW in its downward spiral, Newberry Springs (Newberry before 1967) is
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