Ghost Towns

Having left Medicine Bow, a town currently boasting an impressive population of approximately 270, which was made popular by Owen Wister, we headed back southwards to Colorado. Given Wyoming standards, Medicine Bow is not a shithole but a place big enough to earn the right to be marked on large US maps. Most towns had road signs informing passers-by of the elevation and population. Another vast strip of road running along an empty land led us to Bosler, a town located in the middle of nowhere. The information on the elevation was provided but the other piece was missing. And, as we found a few minutes later, there was a reason to that. Bosler turned out to be the first of a long series of ghost towns we passed on our way. It featured little more than three totally devastated and deserted houses. In a typically American fashion, no place could be left without some bans and thus there was a ‘no trespassing’ sign on one of those ruins. I guess they should also add a ‘no overnight camping’ post. I tried to google the town and found out that most residents left when the new highway was built and railroad services seized to be offered. The brief description also mentioned that there were still 15 inhabitants left. Either that information is outdated or they live underground.

Bosler might not be a highly appealing stop on the road for its lack of interesting views but features one thing missing in locations like Virginia City, which were turned into tourist destinations. It has a genuine ghost town atmosphere. If a place offers lodging and an array of other services, it can hardly be called a real ghost town. Another issue is that such spots offer the best experience when they are not swamped by hundreds of picture-greedy visitors. Only if one comes across a place located off the beaten track, can they feel the shallow emptiness left behind the former inhabitants’ back.

Nevada and California are full of ghost towns deserted after the gold (and silver) rush ground to a halt between mid-nineteenth and early twentieth century. They symbolize human greed, mobility and a hope to go from rags to riches within minutes. We visited Rhyolite, Nevada. It has a tiny museum run by a middle-aged couple of enthusiasts who are willing to provide you with a vivid description of the town’s history. Apart from ghost sculptures, a railway depot and a house made of bottles, which ware renovated and preserved, the town hasn’t been changed much until these days. It has a number of naturally destroyed houses and public institution buildings, as well as car wrecks dating back to mid-twentieth century. The mine’s pits are wired to prevent visitors from taking unnecessary risks but if one deemed themselves a hardcore-tourist, they could easily cross the entrance and take a plunge into the darkness, hoping that they will manage to get out unscathed.