Back When?1900's Ice Harvesting in Oregon

In the early days, pioneers in Prineville and across Central Oregon relied on winter’s grip to harvest ice from frozen rivers and ponds. That ice, carefully stored in sawdust-insulated icehouses, was a prized commodity that helped preserve food, chill beverages, and offer sweet relief from the summer heat. But when July rolled around and the stored ice had melted—that’s where ice caves came in.

The Arnold Ice Cave

About 12 miles south of Bend, tucked beneath the rugged lava beds off China Hat Road, sits Arnold Ice Cave—a natural marvel that quietly fueled the region’s ice supply in the early 1900s. Deep within the cool, dark lava tube, thick layers of ice formed and lingered well beyond winter, preserved by the cave’s insulating basalt walls.

Resourceful locals soon realized the potential. Using a block-and-tackle system, they hauled giant chunks of ice up the steep incline of the cave and loaded them onto wagons bound for Bend. There, the ice was stored in insulated sheds packed with sawdust, ready to be sold to saloons, homes, and businesses.

In those days, ice was big business. By 1910, hundreds of tons of ice had been harvested from Arnold Cave. Ice sold in Bend for a whopping $40 per ton.

Of course, the ice trade wasn’t entirely dependent on caves. During cold winters, crews harvested ice from the Deschutes River and nearby ponds. Small dams were even built along the river to create reliable ice sources. In 1911, the Bend Livery Stable constructed a large icehouse six miles south of town. That December, workers cut and stored 500 tons of crystal-clear, 12-inch-thick ice.

But when winters were mild and river ice was scarce, Arnold Cave became essential. Other caves, like Dillman Cave and East Cave, were also used.

Yet, as with many industries of the past, the ice trade eventually melted away—thanks to electricity.

By the late 1910s and early 1920s, with power lines reaching Bend and the first electric refrigerators making their debut, demand for naturally harvested ice began to dwindle. The ice wagons, once a familiar sight rumbling down the dusty streets, became a thing of the past. Still, old-timers would fondly recall those rugged, icy operations—the shimmering blocks hauled from the earth, the sawdust-stuffed icehouses, and the cool clink of ice hitting a glass on a sweltering summer day.

Today, Arnold Ice Cave still exists, though accessing it requires climbing gear. Rising ice levels have filled much of the cave, nearly swallowing the old stairways. But its legacy remains—a hidden reminder of a time when keeping cool in Central Oregon took creativity, hard work, and, occasionally, a trip underground.