Mayflower Steve
Ronald Stephen Allenbaugh moved to the isolated Mayflower Mine near Alleghany sometime in the early 1970s. There he mined for the next 40 years. I don’ know if the mine produced gold for him, but I do know that his father grubstaked the operation for a good portion of that time.
My family met Steve upon our arrival to the area in 1975. In the 1970s there was a party most every summer weekend at somebody’s place. A bonfire was at the center of the gathering. The adults usually imbibed in spirits and herb while we kids created worlds of our own in the surrounding forest. We played just outside of the ring of light cast by the bonfire or, if the moon was full, we would venture further. Our young eyes quickly adapting to the dark. Our play usually had a theme, be it war, wild animals or explorers.
Our home at the Mott Cabin then later the Golden Bear Mine Bunkhouse frequently hosted these word-of-mouth get togethers. Certain adults stand out in my mind. Mayflower Steve is one of them. When he’d had too much to drink, he would repeatedly yell at the top of his lungs: “Fire em up and shoot em down!” If Dan Jeffrey happened to also be in attendance, every “Fire em up” from Steve would be followed by Dan yelling: “My name is Wild Mountain Man Dan!” This chorus would go on into the wee hours of the night until the party finally fizzled out.
Both Steve and Dan were the kindest open-hearted men you can imagine. My feeling is that men like them have a harder time functioning in society, and so they gravitate to the woods. They have a greater affinity for being alone than most. Whatever the case may be, I feel blessed to have known (and to still know) several such men. Steve loved animals. At his home in the woods he became familiar with the surrounding wildlife, from woodpeckers to deer and bears, these were his friends and neighbors.
Early in our acquaintance Steve told my mom that his father had a crop-dusting business in the Sacramento Area. Steve was a very young crop-duster before becoming a gold miner. He witnessed a serious accident involving a propeller and that was the end of his crop-dusting career.
Mayflower Steve was given another nickname in the early 1990s. Because he didn’t like it, it stuck. He got used to it and it didn’t bother him in later years; Martian Steve. When Steve drank, he would often tell stories about seeing aliens going into his mine to extract gold. He told these stories repeatedly and they were most certainly true to him. Now that he is gone, I wish I’d asked him more about these experiences.
Steve was born on October 18, 1950. He died from complications of cancer on October 25, 2025. Fire em up and shoot em down! my gold mining friend.
Written by Rae Bell Arbogast as part of the Southwest Sierra Series published in the Mountain Messenger Sept. 10, 2026
Comments