8 California Road Trips That Take You Through Creepy Abandoned Towns

California is famous for its coastline and big cities, but the state is also home to abandoned towns that carry stories of mining booms, railroad expansion, and industries that never lasted. Driving through them today, you’ll see crumbling structures, empty streets, and traces of lives left behind. They’re not polished attractions, but they add an eerie, fascinating layer to a road trip. Here are some routes where you can safely experience California’s forgotten towns.

1. Ballarat (Panamint Valley, near Death Valley)

There’s a lonely beauty to Ballarat that you can’t fake. This place sprang up in the late 1800s, catering to miners drawn to the Panamint Mountains. Now, just a handful of structures remain, including a general store that feels like a time capsule.

Ballarat isn’t a town that puts on a show for visitors. You’ll find rusted pick-up trucks and signs faded by decades of desert sun. The isolation is stark: the nearest services are miles away, and the silence is only broken by the crunch of gravel underfoot.

On my last visit, I chatted with a local caretaker who shared stories about Ballarat’s more notorious visitors, including Charles Manson’s crew in the 1960s. While that history adds an unsettling note, the town’s main draw is its raw authenticity. Ballarat sits just outside Death Valley National Park, making it an easy detour for desert explorers craving a real ghost town experience, far from crowds or commercialism.

2. Cerro Gordo (Inyo County)

There’s something exciting about the climb up to Cerro Gordo. The road twists and turns, getting narrower the higher you go, and every mile feels like you’re peeling away layers of California’s past. Once you reach the summit, you’re greeted by the bones of what was once a bustling silver and lead mining town.

Cerro Gordo is privately owned, and in recent years, new caretakers have worked to restore key buildings. Guided tours let visitors peek into the hotel, bunkhouses, and a former general store. The sense of isolation up here is real, at night, it’s just you, the wind, and the old wood creaking in the breeze.

Despite fires and decades of abandonment, Cerro Gordo’s scars tell the story of ambition and boom-and-bust cycles. A quirky detail: the hotel’s bar claims to have served both prospectors and outlaws. Today, Cerro Gordo offers a rare chance to see restoration in action, blending preservation with the wildness of the Inyo Mountains.

3. Bodie (Mono County)

Every time I return to Bodie, I’m struck by how silence hangs in the air, broken only by the sound of wind through open doorways. Once a gold rush hot spot with nearly 10,000 residents, Bodie now sits in a state the park calls “arrested decay.” That means you see buildings as they were left, with faded wallpaper, broken dishes, and even schoolbooks on desks.

The town’s weathered storefronts and homes line what’s now a gravel path. There’s a sense that you’re walking straight into the past. The old church, with its simple steeple, stands quietly at the end of the street, a reminder of the town’s better days.

Winter brings snow, but summer is dry and dusty. Visiting Bodie feels like paging through California’s mining history without any filter. The park rangers are happy to answer questions, and if you look closely, you’ll notice details like faded curtains or children’s toys, left behind by families who hoped the mines would last forever. It’s a thoughtful stop for anyone interested in what happens after the gold runs out.

4. Darwin (Inyo County)

Darwin feels like a place that’s been paused mid-story. Located near the border of Death Valley National Park, it was once a lively outpost for miners. Today, only a handful of residents remain, and the rest is an open-air museum of abandoned homes and hollowed-out cars.

The drive into Darwin is quiet, with little to distract from the endless desert. When you arrive, you’ll see a patchwork of crumbling buildings and modern touches, a mailbox here, a satellite dish there, hinting at the lives that linger alongside memories of the past.

My favorite detail is the community’s faded welcome sign, which stands askew, as if unsure who it’s greeting. Some houses are spray-painted with art, and others are simply empty, doors swinging in the wind. Darwin’s mix of old and new, desolate and lived-in, gives it a haunting charm different from anywhere else I’ve visited in California.

5. Calico (San Bernardino County)

Calico’s energy is different, it’s lively, even though the town itself is long gone. Once a silver boomtown in the 1880s, Calico has been restored as a county park, welcoming visitors to walk its wooden sidewalks and explore old store fronts. It’s more developed than Bodie, but the mining history still feels close at hand.

Brightly painted signs guide you to mine tours, blacksmith demonstrations, and a preserved schoolhouse. Some parts are original, while others have been rebuilt to capture the atmosphere of the silver rush era. It’s a fun stop for families, with plenty of places to sit and let the dry breeze roll by.

If you’re curious about daily life in California’s mining days, Calico offers a hands-on look. I always appreciate the chance to poke around old tools and peek inside historic cabins. Don’t miss the panoramic view from the hilltop, on clear days, the desert stretches out for miles, hinting at the hardships that shaped this place.

6. Rhyolite (Nevada border, near Death Valley)

Rhyolite always makes an impression, even before you step out of the car. Just past the California-Nevada border, it’s known for its surreal ruins and the glass bottle house, built in 1906 from thousands of discarded bottles. The skeletal frames of the old bank and train depot stand stark against the desert sky.

This town sprang to life during the gold rush of the early 1900s, only to be deserted a few years later. What’s left is both strange and beautiful, especially as the late afternoon sun casts long shadows across empty lots.

Nearby, the Goldwell Open Air Museum features quirky outdoor sculptures, an unexpected twist that adds artistic flavor to Rhyolite’s otherwise lonely landscape. If you’re looping through Death Valley or the eastern Sierra, Rhyolite is an easy, unforgettable stop. It’s a place where history and creativity meet in a truly unique California setting.

7. Eagle Mountain (Riverside County)

Eagle Mountain stands out from other ghost towns, it’s newer, and its abandonment feels recent. Founded in the 1940s as a company town for Kaiser Steel, it once bustled with workers, families, and schoolchildren. When the mine closed in the 1980s, everything slowly emptied out.

Driving near Eagle Mountain, you pass chain-link fences and streets that look just like any suburban neighborhood, only with all the people missing. The school, shopping center, and tidy rows of houses are now silent, slowly succumbing to the desert.

Though you can’t wander through the town itself due to private property and safety concerns, you can see the scale of what’s left from surrounding roads. For me, the eeriest part is how familiar it all looks, like a neighborhood frozen in time. Eagle Mountain is a stark reminder of how quickly California’s fortunes can change when the work disappears.

8. Cisco (Placer County)

Tucked away in the Sierra Nevada, Cisco is one of those places you might miss if you blink. Once a stop along the Central Pacific Railroad, it served loggers and miners making their way through California’s wild forests. Today, only a scattering of cabins and graffiti-tagged ruins mark where the town once stood.

The site sits just off old Highway 40, a route packed with history in its own right. It’s quiet, except for the sound of wind in the pines and the occasional train whistle echoing through the mountains. Cisco feels different from the dry desert towns, it’s cool, shady, and filled with a sense of secrets hidden by the trees.

If you’re heading toward Donner Pass, Cisco makes an atmospheric rest stop. I always enjoy spotting wildflowers growing through broken floorboards, and wondering about the travelers who passed this way long before the interstate arrived. It’s a reminder that in California, history is never far away, even on the most forgotten byways.