Miles and I were traveling through the mountains of Colorado, southwest of Denver. We were doing a guy-thing road trip. We had passed through the Pepperlandish Breckenridge where I paid my respects to Myra, and now we were pushing on to ever increasing remoteness. We were in search of Ghost Towns. Places where Silver and Rail Roads were Kings not that long ago. Before everything everywhere looked and smelled and tasted more or less alike. We had made our way to Fair Play, CO and stopped to find a place to stay overnight. Fair Play has a very well preserved specimen of Ghost Town, but it was closed in March which is when we were there. I looked around anyway. Truth to tell, Miles really wasn't that keen on the whole G.T. thing, prefering instead to hang out in the hotel and watch cable TV. The hotel pictured here didn't have cable or TV for that matter. What it had instead were ghosts. Real ghosts. In the front room. Upstairs. At the end of the hall that creeked and growned when it was walked on.

We didn't stay here.

Stumble It!