California’s ‘Zzyzx’ Was a Snake Oil Scam – Now It’s a Desert Research Center

An Infamous Scam with a Happy Ending

It’s pronounced “ZYE-zix,” and the story behind this town is absolutely bizarre. What began as a scam is now a half ghost town, half living lab, and a road trip must-stop. Here are some facts about this tongue-twister.

The Name Was Invented by a Con Man… As Part of a Con

Curtis Howe Springer stole 12,000 acres of Mojave Desert land in 1944, then crafted “Zzyzx” to guarantee his scam spa would alphabetically crush competitors.

The shameless huckster bragged it’d be “the last word in health” and literally the last word in every English dictionary.

His masterstroke? Naming it Zzyzx delayed federal audits, since officials processed mining claims alphabetically.

He Built a Fake Castle on Stolen Government Land

Springer duped the Bureau of Land Management for 30 years, filing bogus mining claims to erect a 60-room hotel, radio station, and Mediterranean-style castle. All illegal.

While real miners dug for gold, he peddled “healing” dirt from his “Sacred Forty Acres.” Federal agents finally caught on in 1974, but not before he’d sold desert lots to starry-eyed followers.

Celebrities Gulped His “Miracle Goat Milk Tonics”

The “King of Quacks” lured Hollywood elites with radio ads promising cures for baldness, cancer, and “nervous exhaustion.” Clark Gable and other stars rode his free shuttles from LA to guzzle Antediluvian Tea (spoiler: it was celery juice).

Springer even faked “natural hot springs” by hiding industrial boilers, a scam so bold the AMA publicly branded him a fraud.

Iconic quote: “Hello, this is your old friend Curtis Springer…” – his cult-famous phone recording.

Indigenous Tribes Knew the Springs First

Long before Springer’s cons, the Mojave people called this oasis Ma’oh, using its waters for ceremonies and trade routes. Spanish explorers later renamed it Soda Springs, while 1860s cavalry troops built Fort Soda to guard pioneers. Springer erased this history, until archaeologists rediscovered Indigenous artifacts in the 1990s.

His Fake Lake Saved a Nearly Extinct Fish

In a bizarre eco-twist, Springer’s 1940s Lake Tuendae (named for his wife) became the last refuge for the Mohave tui chub after developers destroyed its habitats. Biologists transplanted the final 29 fish here in 1970.

Today, 10,000+ dart through waters once filled with spa-goers. It also attracts 200+ bird species, from pelicans to roadrunners.

Feds Finally Slammed the Door on Springer’s Scam Kingdom

The government dragged Springer to court in 1974, slapping him with charges of fraud, squatting, and illegal land sales.

A judge sentenced the 78-year-old “doctor” to 49 days in jail—a wrist-slap punishment that outraged critics.

Federal bulldozers razed parts of the compound, sparing only structures deemed ecologically valuable. Loyal followers who’d built homes there were evicted overnight, leaving behind personal belongings that still litter the desert.

Scientists Resurrected the Ruins as a Climate Lab

California State University swooped in by 1976, transforming Springer’s ghost town into the Desert Studies Center. Today, researchers track endangered pupfish populations in Lake Tuendae and study how climate change is frying the Mojave’s fragile ecosystems.

The castle that once hosted spa-goers now stores 30,000+ artifacts, including Springer’s radio scripts and jars of “Antediluvian Tea.”

Eerie Relics Turned Instagram Catnip

You can still see Springer’s oddball touches: a “Boulevard of Dreams” sign, a swing set in the desert, and the faux-medieval castle now used for academic conferences.

TikTokers film “ghost tours” near the chapel ruins, claiming to hear Springer’s booming sermons echoing across salt flats.

Roadtrippers Brake for the Weirdest Exit in America

The Zzyzx Road exit (#239) lures 500+ curiosity-seekers daily, despite leading to a restricted research zone. Hikers brave the 4.5-mile washboard road to prowl Springer’s abandoned pools and the creepy Soda Dry Lake, a blinding salt pan where temperatures hit 120°F.

Featured in Pop Culture

Metal bands name-drop Zzyzx in songs about desert madness, while Fallout: New Vegas gamers loot virtual healing springs here.

Documentarians expose Springer as the original influencer grifter, and UCLA archivists preserve his $2 million/year mail-order empire records.

Even the Mohave tui chub fish he accidentally saved now stars in climate studies.