The Sutro Tunnel’s mouth continues to leak water. Not a trickle, but rather between 70 and 100 gallons per minute, rising from the ground as if the mountain never received the notice that the Comstock Lode had closed decades ago. It’s difficult not to get the impression that Dayton, Nevada, has been silently waiting for someone to pay attention once more as you stand close to the portal and watch the water flow. At last, someone did.
After nearly ten years of blasting and excavating through difficult Nevada terrain, the Sutro Tunnel was finished in 1878. After witnessing mines flood with scalding geothermal water, Adolph Sutro, a Prussian immigrant who had made his first real money selling tobacco in California, decided the solution was radical: a nearly four-mile drainage adit that would run from Dayton all the way beneath Virginia City. Work crews, made up of immigrants from all over the world, carved out a passage that was about 17 feet wide and 20 feet tall while performing harsh labor in hazardous conditions. Carts were pulled through it by mules. Every day, millions of gallons were drained through it. It speaks to the era’s sense of spectacle that former President Ulysses S. Grant found it impressive enough to ride through in 1879.

However, silver production had already reached its peak by the time it was completed. After cashing out, Sutro returned to San Francisco and eventually rose to the position of mayor. The town that had been constructed around the tunnel’s entrance gradually vanished. In 1942, all non-essential mining operations ceased. A mule barn, a warehouse, a woodshop, a candle-and-tag building where miners used to sign in for their shifts, and that obstinate, unrelenting flow of water were among the few original buildings that still stood.
In 2021, Chris Pattison became the first executive director of the nonprofit Friends of Sutro Tunnel. He was aware that restoration would be costly. It’s likely that he was unaware of the precise cost until the organization dispatched drones into the collapsed adit and observed that they lost signal about 300 feet in, revealing that the timber framing had deteriorated throughout. That is not the type of video that facilitates fundraising. However, Pattison saw something worth preserving, not only the building itself but also what it symbolizes about the people who constructed it and the time period that molded a whole area.
The cost of restoring a tunnel is about $8,000 per five feet. When you rely on private donations, tour fees, merchandise sales, and sporadic fundraisers, the math adds up slowly. Construction moves forward, pauses, and then moves forward once more. Most organizations would be frustrated by this disjointed process. Watching this develop gives the impression that the entire project is driven by a certain kind of stubbornness, perhaps the same trait that led Sutro to believe that a four-mile tunnel would be a workable solution to a drainage issue.
Through its Tunnel Vision campaign, the nonprofit is now working to raise $5 million by 2027 in order to build a visitor center, restore the entire passage to Virginia City, and establish an operating endowment so that the site won’t always rely on donations from the following month. In 2025, a $493,000 grant from the Nevada Commission on Tourism gave those goals significant impetus and credibility.
A number of restored outbuildings and the first 50 feet of the tunnel are currently accessible for public tours. It’s modest. However, people do show up. As they pass by and ask questions, something about Dayton’s story is passed down to a new generation. Arguably equally significant is the archive of original records being assembled offsite; according to Pattison, the research effort alone has significantly changed our understanding of Sutro.
Whether the full restoration will meet its 2027 goals is still up in the air. Rarely do these campaigns follow a straight path. However, the volunteers continue to work, the water continues to flow, and the mountain continues to give in to the notion that what transpired here should be remembered, inch by challenging inch.

