The old Darwin schoolhouse, a weathered, wooden, one-room building from the 1800s, hasn’t had enough kids to justify its existence — or any kids, for that matter — in decades. A small, laminated white paper sign tacked out front proclaims the one thing the residents of the tiny California town of around 30 residents want you to know.
Darwin is not a ghost town.
It’s also not a “living ghost town” or an “almost-ghost town.” It’s not even rural, some town residents claim, not to be confused with much of the agricultural areas in the central part of the state. It is remote, though: a quaint desert town full of creative people who just want to live a quiet life, undisturbed by jeep tours and overzealous content creators who trespass on their land and steal their possessions. The local sentiment could feel almost hostile, but after spending considerable time with these residents, the only issues they seemed to get cranky about were undesired tourism, and water.
Article continues below this ad
A welded steel sculpture — The Hitchhiker by Jael Hoffman — stands at the entrance to Darwin, Calif., on Tuesday, March 31, 2026.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
Local resident Reed Campell is pictured on his property in Darwin, Calif., on Tuesday, March 31, 2026.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
The gold that once drew opportunists to this slice of California now attracts a new generation of grubstakers, eager to mine the modern currency: content. The town’s largely aging residents, who fled metropolitan areas seeking solitude in the desert, don’t understand why the internet has such a fascination with ghost towns. They simply want to be left alone.
‘You’re not the first one’
“People live here,” the small plastic sign continues, one of just a few that remain in their original location. The wind can whip through Darwin, elevation 4,800 feet. Without much to break the gusts, many of the warning signs have come down. Longtime resident and artist Kathy Goss had posted them in prominent places around town, but she knows the desert reclaims everything eventually.
Article continues below this ad
A view of the historic post office in Darwin, Calif.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
Longtime resident Kathy Goss is pictured inside historic Darwin Station, which is often used now for community events and gatherings.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
Goss has made art and music in Darwin since she moved there in 1997 from San Francisco amid a whirlwind romance, further drawn in by the promise of artistic freedom and cheap housing. Her signs might intimidate a newcomer to Darwin, despite the jaunty Western font and the silhouette of a burro that adorns the bottom, but sitting down on her shaded, cluttered porch of mismatched furniture and curios of all sizes, all uneasy feelings disappear. Neighbors chitchat as they settle into the cozy space. Multiple offers of different forms of “bubbly water” abound, cementing the fact that no matter where you are in the country, sparkling water is today’s universal peace offering.
Make SFGATE a preferred source so your search results prioritize writing by actual people, not AI.
Add Preferred Source
Katy Stock, a more recent Darwin transplant, offers homegrown jujubes, a tiny, tart reddish fruit that eats like a dry apple. They’re her recent victory after years of experimenting with what grows in the hot and arid town. Her partner David Reese sits beside her, the reason she ended up staying in the small town after a visit from Big Sur, still sounding a bit surprised she could find love in such a remote place. Jim Hunolt, another transplant from Big Sur, the unlikely feeder town for this portion of the desert, has become a sort of unofficial mayor, as both one of the longest tenured residents and because his sculptures dot all corners of town.
Article continues below this ad
Local resident and sculptor Jim Hunolt is pictured in his yard on Wednesday, April 1, 2026, in Darwin, Calif.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
A trio of sculptures by local artist Jim Hunolt are seen early in the morning on Wednesday, April 1, 2026, in Darwin, Calif.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
The four neighbors bicker about the details and dates of stories, the way family members might dispute the facts of an old tale at Thanksgiving. The group has decidedly different opinions on SFGATE writing another journalistic take on their small town, after decades of town profiles from every corner of California and beyond. Hunolt would prefer the town name not be mentioned at all, in this article or others, insisting it will lead to even more interest in their small community, discomfort visible on his face. Goss seems indifferent, more interested in correcting what’s been written or filmed in the past, telling her own true story about this quiet place. Stock and Reese share triumphs from their unique haven, like cultivating the aforementioned jujubes and helping rescue an injured wild burro. One thing’s clear: They all have a deep love for the place they live, even as they understand its limitations.
On this mid-October day, a soft breeze blew the occasional wind chime and an endless stretch of blue sky ended in mountains that punctuated the panorama. As we chatted, two motorcycles rumbled by, their captains hopping out to take photos in front of aging wood buildings with peeling signs. A few hours later, a white Tesla crept through town, its passengers staring out in awe at the abandoned cars, broken windows and sparse dirt lots set against the rolling hills of nearby Death Valley, but no one exited the vehicle.
Article continues below this ad
“They pull in, they look around. It’s like, you’re not the first one to film it,” Reese said of the frequent visitors, referencing the many YouTube and TikTok videos of Darwin.
A view of Darwin, Calif., from atop one of the two water towers that are located above the town, on Wednesday, April 1, 2026.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
Thirty-five-year resident Rose Fabian and her dog Finnegan are pictured on the road leading out of Darwin, Calif., on Wednesday, April 1, 2026.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
Located just outside the western border of Death Valley National Park, Darwin sits another five or so miles off Highway 190, so there’s no “passing by.” Most people drive right by the sign that warns drivers there’s no gas or services ahead, put up in another attempt to deter lookie-loos, and zoom past the fully fenced-in, largely defunct mining town next door. Something led them here, whether they viewed one of the two feature-length documentaries filmed about the town, an article or video, or one of the many blogs about bucket-list Western ghost towns.
Article continues below this ad
But Darwin never became a ghost town, and at one point, even appeared poised to become one of the state’s next booming metropolises. It began as a bustling mining town founded in 1874, shortly after the area was found to be rich in silver and lead. Named for Darwin French, a prospector who had led expeditions in the area, the town was flooded by eager adventurers hoping to strike it rich. The boom didn’t last long, with the bulk of residents leaving by the late 19th century as markets fluctuated and resources became scarce in the harsh desert conditions. Those who stayed were dealt an even bigger blow in the 1930s, when decided to reroute the main road on the way to what was then Death Valley National Monument away from the town.
A view of Darwin, Calif., 1926.
Charles C. Pierce/Fair Use via University of Southern California Libraries/California Historical Society
Most mining operations ceased by the 1970s, and since then, the town’s steadily shrunk from a one-time high of 3,500 to a population of just 54 residents in 2000, according to the U.S. census. That dipped down to 43 in 2010, and 36 in 2020. Some who own property in town only reside there part-time, if at all, so it’s hard to get an accurate count. The group gathered on Goss’ porch said they used to say they had around 30 full-time residents. After more than a few memorials in the past five years, their estimates put the current population closer to 27 now.
The ‘only danger’ of living in Darwin
The Darwin cemetery sits just outside of town off a dirt road, the resting ground for residents going back as far as 1877. Stone and marble headstones stand grandly just feet from small, unmarked wooden crosses. Goss pointed out the newest addition, a memorial added the weekend before for a longtime resident. She said it was the third memorial they’d had in town in the past month — though not all had died that month — and she felt burnt out. She hoped after the most recent one, her life could go back to normal, at least for a while.
Article continues below this ad
Grave markers and tombstones are seen inside the Darwin cemetery, on Wednesday, April 1, 2026.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
An exterior view of Darwin Station, as seen on Tuesday, March 31, 2026.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
“The only danger of living here, real danger, is you’re too far from a hospital if you really need something,” Rick Gibson, a 73-year-old Darwin resident, told SFGATE.
After two medical emergencies in town, he’s scared being so far away from help. The nearest hospital is about 40 miles away in Lone Pine, and like so many rural hospitals, it’s experiencing its own crisis, something the residents of Darwin talk about often.
Article continues below this ad
Gibson’s goal is to move out of town by the time he’s 80, he said. He currently gets most of his health care in Las Vegas — about a 3.5-hour drive away — and he’s considering a permanent move there, or to Reno or Placerville. But he said he wouldn’t sell his Darwin property, which he bought for just $6,500 in cash in 1988. At that time, he still lived in Danville, where he’s from. Over the years he built a house and a workshop on the Darwin property, and jokes that he’s the only one in town who has an electric garage door. He moved to town full-time in 1999.
Residents Judyth Greenburgh and Rick Gibson are pictured on Wednesday, April 1, 2026, in Darwin, Calif.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
“I love it, but I do realize I have to leave,” he said.
Judyth Greenburgh, 61, returned to Darwin recently after about a year away, caring for her ailing husband in Sausalito. She had considered selling her property but decided, ultimately, “it was too special to sell. You can’t get something like this again.”
Article continues below this ad
Greenburgh also owns a houseboat in Sausalito, counting herself lucky to be a member of two very unique communities. That’s how she originally learned about Darwin, from a former neighbor who she said helped her “unlock a part of herself” she didn’t even know she had. During a visit in the late 1990s for an annual party Goss used to throw in Darwin, she said she had a light bulb moment that she didn’t have to “live in the rat race.”
Switching careers to become a “feral artist,” as she calls herself, rather than a corporate art director, she bought land with her husband in Darwin around 2000, eventually deciding to rent out their houseboat to permanently relocate to the desert, which she calls her “forever home.”
Signs warn against trespassing on the grounds of the nearby mine along the road leading into Darwin, Calif.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
A pack of wild burros are seen on the outskirts of Darwin, Calif., on Tuesday, March 31, 2026. The donkeys are a non-native species from North Africa originally used for regional mining operations.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
Given the number of Darwin residents who have died in the past five or so years, the town is in a bit of a new era, she said. The hope now is that the right type of people are the ones who move in next. “We survived this long,” Greenburgh said. “We’ll survive again. And it’s Darwin. Evolve, or die, right?” she says, referencing British scientist Charles Darwin, who, while he’s not the town’s namesake, famously penned the theory of evolution.
Article continues below this ad
Its blessing and its curse
Survival in the desert depends on water, though, and ideally these future new residents will understand that. Water rules so much in this part of California — and with only about 62 water permits available in Darwin, the population can never really grow beyond a couple hundred residents.
An interior view of the water treatment plant located beneath the two water tanks above Darwin, Calif.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
It’s a blessing and a curse that Darwin maintains its own water system, rather than relying on individual wells. Darwin’s water trickles down through gravity-fed pipelines from a stream located within the neighboring Naval Air Weapons Station China Lake. A volunteer-led water board must maintain the system, and it requires substantial manual labor, time and money for a town so small to keep the water flowing and comply with government regulations — the same ones that large cities are held to — and that’s just one of many reasons they’d like more young people to move to town.
Article continues below this ad
“We need help,” Goss said. “We need younger people to come here and make the commitment to live here. And make a commitment to doing some muscle work.”
Hunolt, the sculptor, misses when they truly controlled their own water system, absent of any federal or state feedback. Now it’s complicated and expensive.
“This isn’t Bakersfield, where they have a whole department of water, or LA or San Francisco. But we’re subject to almost all the same rules they are,” Hunolt said.
Local resident and sculptor Jim Hunolt is pictured with his piece “Pompeii,” on his property in Darwin, Calif., on Wednesday, April 1, 2026.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
The Darwin Stone Circle is a memorial for sculptor Gordon Newell built by his son Hal in 2013.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
Water permits cost about $55 a month, which comes out to a monthly stipend of around $3,500 for any maintenance or repairs to the system. Any financing required beyond that must come from outside fundraising or grants, both of which they’ve regularly had to utilize.
Article continues below this ad
Greenburgh said every solution feels like a temporary one, though. The residents need to figure out a way to operate without relying so heavily on the four or five people who volunteer to run the water board, because “anyone who becomes the head of the water board becomes this stressed-out monster,” she said.
Gibson used to do much of the maintenance work himself, given his professional background in pipelines, but when the town started requiring more documentation to comply with state regulations, he got fed up and quit. He said the water system is the one problem the town has, and he says there’s no real good solution at the price they’re paying.
“I’m stubborn and I’ll admit it, but you know what, when I’m working for free, you can’t tell me what to do,” he said.
Local resident Nico Georis is pictured on his electric bike near the post office in Darwin, Calif., on Wednesday, April 1, 2026.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
A lone Joshua Tree stands outside of the Darwin mine on Wednesday, April 1, 2026.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
Nico Georis, 43, is one of Darwin’s youngest residents. After stumbling upon the town about 20 years ago and visiting it several times, he made the permanent move in 2022, and recently became a member of the water board. “They’re getting older, and they need help, and they need a new generation to pass the torch to,” Georis said.
Article continues below this ad
He said he’d like to have new full-time residents with more years of life left, who can “see the vision for living close to the land,” and understand the importance of having a relationship with where their water comes from.
‘More affordable than the rest of California’
As of publication, there are two houses for sale in Darwin. A two-bedroom, one-bathroom “fixer upper” is listed for just $85,000, and includes over an acre of land. It got a $10,000 price cut this year. A two-story, three-bedroom, three-bathroom home that’s been on and off the market for over a year — and has cut more than $100,000 off its original price — sits at $245,000, and even comes with a vacation rental permit.
An exterior view of a home on Main Street in Darwin, Calif., on Tuesday, March 31, 2026.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
Nothing in Darwin is in a turnkey position, said Curtis Amundson, a real estate agent who lives in Bishop and represents both houses for sale. He said these homes have plenty of people interested in them, and many of them are even on the younger side, but given the condition of most of the town’s properties, its lack of a fire station and a drought of comparable sales, it’s incredibly difficult to get a loan for any Darwin property. That means these homes need to be bought with cash, seller financing, or some other creative, often backdoor, deal.
Article continues below this ad
Still, “it’s definitely way more affordable than the rest of California,” he said.
Darwin resident Kathy Goss is pictured inside the fiberglass paneled dome on her property, which is used for music sessions, community gatherings, and an occasional guest space.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
When asked who Gibson thought would be a good addition to Darwin to buy one of the local properties, he responded immediately, “anybody.”
“The town’s getting smaller,” he added, with a low chuckle.
Article continues below this ad
A small town future
Until 2011, most of Darwin still relied on a dial-up connection for the internet. Now that its residents have access to Starlink, some hope this could lure a new generation that’s able to work remotely. The only job available in Darwin is at the post office, and after the last postmaster died a few years ago, that position’s no longer even held by a town resident.
Postmaster Jeremy, center, raises the the American flag while chatting with Kathy Goss on the morning of Wednesday, April 1, 2026, in Darwin, Calif.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
An unofficial town gathering place, the post office has a bench and a row of weathered seats facing each other lining the frontage, where people perch as they wait to collect the day’s mail. A bulletin board nailed outside advertises yet another memorial service for a member of the community, this time a kazoo parade and scattering of ashes, followed by a potluck and music and videos. Other postings advertise Inyo County election observing opportunities, another potluck in nearby Keeler, and a small handwritten note from Stock offering up the aforementioned jujubes.
Article continues below this ad
The beds at the nearby community garden thrive, clearly well tended in the harsh desert climate, by various residents. Green and red peppers spring from leafy vines and bunches of tiny yellow tomatoes tumble at all angles.
One block over — though the idea of a “block” becomes mostly meaningless when there are no sidewalks, no marked roads and no street lights — sits the town’s one stop sign. It’s more a marker of the town center than a traffic calming measure, flanked by an old dance hall, the town “library,” a defunct former post office building and the unofficial town hall. These gathering places host potlucks, town meetings, and other events, though none are actually public buildings. They’re all owned by town residents, who share them with the community.
Katy Stock and David Reese are pictured in their garden on their property in Darwin, Calif.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
“You can leave the keys in your car, your front door open, and come back a year later and nobody touched the thing,” Gibson said, refuting the idea that it’s a dangerous place, a holdover reputation from the town’s mining days that got a bit of a boost from a 2011 documentary, which featured an anarchist and lots of gun talk.
Article continues below this ad
Gibson, who in the documentary shows off his own guns and talks about going to war, said most of what he said then got misconstrued. The idea that people move there to become survivalists is inaccurate, he said: “It’s not a gun-hungry town where everybody’s shooting all day long and pulling guns on each other.” He admits they have some people in town who drink too much, and even a few that use drugs like meth, but that happens in most California towns these days, he said.
They’re also not all Republicans, a common misconception about small communities in the state. On her porch, Goss shared pictures from the town’s recent No Kings protests, which she joked had to have been the largest in the state, at least when you take into account the percentage of residents who took part from a single town.
Darwin resident (artist, musician and author) Reed Campbell is pictured inside his workshop on Tuesday, March 31, 2026.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
What visitors may perceive as shacks actually house recording studios and artists’ workshops. The insides are lively: Books paper the walls, papel picado banners line the ceiling and Christmas tinsel borders shelves. Broken down cars around town may one day be fixed. Heaps of iron could soon become towering sculptures.
Article continues below this ad
“People live here and the junk on the ground is their treasures, so don’t steal them,” Greenburgh said, addressing the road-trippers who barge through front doors and treat Darwin’s residents like pariahs, if they talk to them at all.
“It’s a much different place now. And it’s a beautiful place, so I’m happy for people to see it, but it’s become a destination and it’s kind of ruined living there,” Hunolt said.
A view of the single road leading out of Darwin, Calif., back to Highway 190, as seen on Wednesday, April 1, 2026.
Charles Russo/SFGATE
Hunolt, who moved from Big Sur decades ago, knows Darwin isn’t going to become the next Big Sur, but said adventurous, social media-driven travel leads more people to Darwin who want to discover “undiscovered” places.
Article continues below this ad
But its residents don’t want Darwin to be a destination. “We’re no different than any other town in California,” Gibson said. “Any little town.”