Nearly a decade after the state and federal government agreed to keep Nevada’s largest abandoned mine off a federal list of highly polluted sites, the mine is almost cleaned up. 

But now, conversations about reopening the 3,400-acre Anaconda Copper Mine in Lyon County to production are troubling groups that have monitored the defunct property for years. They’re questioning if that could deplete local water sources and cause further pollution — and whether they’ll have any opportunities to weigh in. 

As the mine’s cleanup approaches its slated 2030 completion date, companies involved with Anaconda have performed exploratory testing at the site and applied for mining-related water permits — moves that have drawn substantial protests. 

On top of concerns about how mining there again would affect the environment, critics fear the potential sale of roughly half of the mine’s land to a private company, which would mean it’s subject to less stringent environmental review. 

The land encompassing the mine is privately and publicly owned, split between the federal Bureau of Land Management (BLM) and Singatse Peak Services LLC. BLM is considering selling its approximately 2,000-acre portion of the site to Atlantic Richfield Co. (ARCO).

The move would make Anaconda wholly private property. It would be owned jointly by Singatse Peak and ARCO, which is responsible for reclamation because of its liability from its brief period of ownership of Anaconda in the late 1970s and early 1980s. The company has pushed for the sale for years, arguing it would expedite the cleanup. 

But it also means future mining at the site would only be subject to state permitting requirements, which are not as extensive as federal ones. 

For decades, environmental groups and the public have relied on federal policies developed in the 1970s that mandate environmental reviews and created opportunities for public comment, said Great Basin Resource Watch Director John Hadder.  

If the BLM sells its portion of the property to ARCO, he said there would be no federal environmental report if the mine becomes operational again. 

“That’s what’s missing from the state process — they don’t do any of that,” Hadder said. “Without the federal process, we’re really missing a big piece of what should be disclosed.”

For mining on privately owned land, the state requires companies to apply for permits related to reclamation, water pollution and air quality control. But the state doesn’t conduct an environmental review, and companies are not subjected to review under the terms of the National Environmental Policy Act, which is applied in all federal transactions.

Some question the rationale behind potentially disturbing an area that was so polluted it narrowly escaped the dreaded Superfund designation. 

“They’re gonna have to be careful they don’t remobilize contaminants at the site,” Hadder said. But, he said, “without a plan, without a discussion, the public doesn’t know. It’s the old thing that we’ve heard before — ‘Oh, trust us.’”

Dodging Superfund designation 

Located just outside Yerington, Anaconda was headed for the federal Superfund list — a kind of scarlet letter designation for the country’s most toxic sites — when the state assumed oversight of the mine’s remediation, despite the push by many, including former Sen. Harry Reid (D-NV), for the federal Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) to direct the cleanup. 

The bulk of the site’s pollution resulted from mining by different companies that occurred before the existence of the Nevada Division of Environmental Protection (NDEP) or the establishment of Nevada’s rules around mining reclamation. 

Mining operations there date back to 1918. From the 1940s to 1970s, the Anaconda Copper Mining Co. operated the mine, extracting ore and leaving behind more than 1,600 acres of waste rock, contaminated tailings and disposal ponds.

In 1977, ARCO bought the mine, but the declining prices of copper and ore, along with other factors, soon led the mine to close, and the company sold it shortly thereafter. 

In 1988, Arimetco assumed control of Anaconda, with its operations adding further pollution. After Arimetco’s 2000 bankruptcy declaration, Singatse Peak Services purchased the property but was exempt from the preexisting environmental liability — that liability reverted back to ARCO after Arimetco abandoned the site. 

The EPA stepped in, removing superficial contamination and conducting a groundwater study. It sought to place the mine on its National Priorities List — a sublist within the federal Superfund designation for the nation’s most polluted sites. It would have been Nevada’s second Superfund site.

For years, the state fought the designation, and in 2018 reached an agreement with the EPA to give NDEP and ARCO control of the cleanup, with the BLM serving as a cooperating agency. 

Eight years later, cleanup is complete at the mine’s most-polluted sections,  the portion formerly owned by Arimetco. ARCO will soon commence the second phase of cleanup and has spent about $45 million thus far, with the state on the hook for about 8 percent of that. 

ARCO has long wanted ownership of Anaconda’s federally held land and requested a land transfer in 2017. The following year, Rep. Mark Amodei (R-NV)’s legislative effort to secure the transfer failed. 

In 2021, the BLM initiated the process for selling the land to ARCO. Opponents worried at the time that removing federal oversight of the cleanup would reduce environmental standards, and amid negative community response, the sale never went through.

But earlier this year, the BLM again initiated the transfer, offering to sell the property to ARCO for a minimum of $760,000.

Hadder, who’s monitored the mine for decades, said he believes the land transfer goes “hand in hand” with future mining at Anaconda. 

“We’re really concerned about this land sale going through as is,” he said. “The public deserves to see what the plan is and understand it.” The BLM and ARCO did not respond to The Nevada Independent‘s request for comment about future plans for the mine before the publication deadline.

A prior cleanup success story

At other polluted mines in the state, NDEP officials and mining companies have said privatizing public land has helped expedite cleanup.

Near downtown Henderson lies the sprawling Three Kids Mine site, which was active from 1917 to 1961 and used by the U.S. government during both world wars to extract manganese, a metal that strengthens steel. 

The site fell into disrepair after its 1961 abandonment, leaving behind asbestos, toxic waste and open pits. 

Like Anaconda, cleaning up Three Kids was initially complicated because the mine lacked a “responsible party” willing or able to tackle remediation, according to Alan Pineda, an NDEP engineer who is supervising its cleanup. 

But federal legislation enacted in 2014 authorized the BLM to transfer the mined lands to the City of Henderson. That transfer officially occurred a decade later, in 2024, and Henderson then sold the site to Pulte Homes, which is building a housing development atop the site. NDEP is overseeing Pulte’s activities. 

BLM’s land transfer helped fix the problem of abandoned land, Pineda told The Indy, as it “paved the way for a public-private partnership and the implementation of what is essentially a voluntary cleanup by a private developer.” 

The activities at Three Kids and Anaconda show how much more government intervention and enforcement there is in the reclamation of once polluted and abandoned Nevada sites, which were previously allowed to languish as public health hazards.

State law didn’t require mining companies to mitigate their environmental damages until 1989. And even after the state began requiring companies to not abandon potentially harmful mining sites, the financial penalties for violations were so toothless that enforcement of reclamation rules was difficult.  

“None of that existed back then, and that’s why this has been more of a struggle than it should have been,” said Paul Eckert, supervisor of NDEP’s Bureau of Corrective Actions. 

Eckert said it is NDEP’s belief that going forward, the regulations established in the 1990s will make it harder for operators at sites such as Three Kids and Anaconda to leave behind another mess. 

“Any future mining company will be responsible, both financially and regulatorily, for cleaning up,” he said.  

Uncharted territory?

But unlike at Three Kids, Anaconda could see future operations. Lion Copper and Gold, owner of Singatse Peak Services, has stated it intends to bring the property “back into production through the adoption of new processing technologies and a respectful approach to the environment and local communities.” 

Opponents question potential unforeseen consequences if there is no federal environmental review of future mining at the property. 

“We’re not opposed to re-mining. What we’re opposed to is re-mining without a proper public review,” Hadder said. “It needs to be discussed and evaluated, and it needs to be done in a public sphere.”

That’s because in addition to a potential Superfund designation, the mine’s various operators have been plagued throughout the decades by a slew of violations for actions that have affected nearby residents. 

NDEP issued violations to ARCO in 1982 and 1985, for groundwater pollution stemming from pre-ARCO actions. The company installed infrastructure to prevent contamination of local wells and the Walker River, but in the 1990s, residents found elevated arsenic levels in water samples. 

In 2013, ARCO settled a class-action lawsuit with local residents, agreeing to pay up to $19.5 million without acknowledging wrongdoing. The company was later scrutinized after convincing state regulators to support an analysis showing less pollution tied to the mine, contradicting an EPA report.

Concerns from water groups and local tribes about the future of Anaconda are more particular. 

Anaconda’s pit lake — an open body of water that has filled in the massive cavity where ore was pulled from for decades — sits just 200 yards from the Walker River. A January application by Singatse Peak Services with the Nevada State Engineer’s Office to drain the pit — and following practices that would be required to keep it dry — would all but guarantee a drawdown on the already-beleaguered Walker River and the shrinking Walker Lake, said Peter Stanton, executive director of the Walker Basin Conservancy. The move even drew the attention of the U.S. Board of Water Commissioners. 

The Walker River Paiute Tribe, which has long opposed the land transfer, said in a statement that draining the pit would “jeopardize delivery of the Tribe’s senior decreed Walker River water right, notably later in the irrigation season, and especially in dry years.”

If mining moves forward at Anaconda, Stanton said there appears to be a lack of coordination between companies, regulators and stakeholders “to align land ownership, water rights permitting and water quality permitting for a project like this.

“We’re all concerned,” he continued.