TUNNEL TOWN: GRASS VALLEY'S MINING HISTORY RUNS DEEP.

Byline: Susanne Hopkins Daily News Travel Editor

Marlene Lindstedt has lived in this northern Sierra Nevada town pockmarked with mine tunnels for several years. And she still occasionally worries about ``disappearing like a gopher.''

``Just about anywhere you walk these days you're above a mine tunnel,'' she says to a group of us visiting the Grass Valley Museum, where she's a tour guide.

It's that web of mine tunnels that is the foundation of Grass Valley, a city of nearly 10,000 people about 60 miles northeast of Sacramento. The town traces its beginnings to 1850 after an outcropping of quartz with a vein of gold running through it became a stumbling block to George McKnight, who was chasing a cow one evening.

News of McKnight's discovery flashed through gold camps throughout the Mother Lode and, by 1854, Grass Valley had ballooned to 20,000 people. Most were of Cornish descent and most were scrabbling in the mines for riches. Few succeeded, although Grass Valley territory is said to have yielded about $400 million worth of gold.

But they did build a sturdy town that withstood a devastating fire in 1855 (300 structures burned) to become the place visitors see today: a blend of Victorian and modern homes, old, narrow streets lined with brick buildings sporting iron doors and shutters (built in the aftermath of the fire), and newfangled inventions such as a shopping mall (which isn't far from piles of old mine tailings).

It's a busy little town; the old downtown area bustles with shoppers and business folks. But the big deal here isn't the inviting shops in Gold Rush-era structures; it's the Empire Mine State Historic Park.

Established in 1852, the Empire was the most illustrious of 45 mines, with 56 different shafts that honeycombed the Grass Valley area.

Hard-rock mining prevailed at the Empire, which produced about 6 million ounces of gold - more than $2 billion at today's prices - before closing in 1957.

In 1975, the state of California purchased the Empire property - some 784 acres, 750 of which is backcountry land - for $1.25 million. Today, the visitors center offers a look at the heyday of the mine, when mostly Cornish miners hacked the ore out of the mountains - and firmly established the Cornish pasty, a meat-and-potato pie, as a mealtime staple in these parts. You can still buy a delicious pasty at a handful of cafes in town.

Movies about the mine are shown here, there are exhibits, including trays of core samples, and there's a fascinating scale model detailing the mine's 367 miles of shafts, drifts and slopes.

Remnants of the plant offer another peek into the past. The old rock-and-redwood mine office with its leaded windows and well-worn wooden stairs is now a walk-through museum, complete with the old bullion furnace that turned gold into ingots. Across the way, you can view the mine shaft, which descends 4,650 feet and boasts one tunnel that ends more than two miles from the top; and there are the blacksmith, machine and welding shops, as well as stamp mill foundations and other partial structures, to see.

But the crowning glory of this park is the Empire Cottage, a striking English country manor of a place surrounded by lush gardens. Occasionally open to visitors, the lavish stone cottage with its leaded-glass windows and interior of heart redwood was built in 1897 to house the mine manager. It's not open this day, but a peek through the window reveals the opulence of a long-vanished lifestyle.

A few miles away, there's even more mining history. At the North Star Powerhouse Museum, Wolf Creek dances lyrically by under a stone bridge. Once, the 30-foot Pelton waterwheel turned here; now, it's ensconced inside the powerhouse-turned-museum.

There's lots to see here - re-creations of mine ``rooms,'' tools from the mines, detailed information on processing ore, and the country's largest operational Cornish Pump, which was developed by the Cornish miners to lift water through multiple levels of the mine.

From the North Star museum, I set off on the trail of Grass Valley's other claims to fame: the flamboyant theatrical performer of the 1850s, Lola Montez, and her entertainer protege and mining camp darling, Lotta Crabtree, both of whom had homes here.

I am doomed to disappointment. There is little left in Grass Valley to recall Lola, whose beauty captivated King Ludwig I of Bavaria and whose adventurous spirit beguiled such personages of the day as Victor Hugo, Frederic Chopin, Alexandre Dumas and Franz Liszt. The woman who kept a pet bear and whose escapades were the talk of two continents is remembered only with a few photos hung on the wall of an abode at 248 Mill St., where her home once stood. This building - now the home of the Grass Valley/Nevada County Chamber of Commerce - is a reconstruction of Lola's home; the only features dating to Lola's day are the front door and the drawing room doors.

Lotta fares even less well. As a child, the little girl learned acting and dancing skills from Lola; she went on to entertain miners throughout the Mother Lode and become America's first millionaire sweetheart. A few doors down from Lola's house, at 238 Mill St., is Lotta's former home. Now, it's an ugly, spearmint-green duplex. There's not even a sign to denote its former illustrious inhabitant. Mention it to townsfolk and they grimace. ``It's nothing like it was when she lived there,'' they say.

Down the road a piece is the Grass Valley Museum, which shares a building with St. Joseph's Thrift Store on the grounds of what was once Mount St. Mary's Convent and Orphanage. The museum is a treasure-trove of historical items; I join a tour led by Lindstedt, who illuminates the displays with a storehouse of legends and gold-mining tales.

Before he was president, she notes, Herbert Hoover came to town with $100 and a degree in engineering. He worked as a mucker loading ore, and by the time he left, he had won the admiration of the Cornish miners - who would later help him win Nevada County by a landslide in the presidential election.

She tells how how the Cornish miners fell in love with baseball and established their own teams, points out the table used in San Francisco for the signing of the United Nations charter, and takes us through the elaborately decorated music room and the parlor.

It's a loving look at days long gone. And that is, after all, what most of Grass Valley is.

On Location

Empire Mine State Historic Park, 10791 E. Empire St., Grass Valley, is open 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily. Information: [phone]. Admission: $2 adults, $1 for children ages 6 to 12.

North Star Powerhouse Mining Museum, Allison Ranch Road and Mill Street, Grass Valley, is open 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. May to October. Information: [phone]. No admission charge, but donations welcome.

Grass Valley Museum, South Church and Chapel streets, Grass Valley, is open 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. Thursday and 12:30 to 3:30 p.m. Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday, as well as noon to 3 p.m. Saturday and Sunday June through September. Donations requested. Information: [phone].

For more information, call the Grass Valley and Nevada County Chamber of Commerce, [phone].

CAPTION(S):

2 Photos, Box

Photo: (1--color) The Empire Mine State Historic Park recalls Grass Valley's raucous mining days.

(2) The old bullion furnace where fold was turned into ingots is on display at the Empire Mine State Historic Park in Grass Valley.

Susanne Hopkins/Daily News

Box: On Location (see text)