A Piece of Western History

There is a small town within field trip range of the town I grew up in. It’s nestled in the hills and you must brave a narrow, windy road to get there. Okay, okay, there are two other directions you can approach from, which are not as scary as the twisty road one. However, the twisty road has the added benefit of having stone stairs that lead up one side of the road to a tiny pond with gold fish in it.

There was a mine in the area, not active when I was a child. In 1915, more than $10 million in gold was discovered by two miners. By the 1960s, the town was nearly a ghost town. It’s now a tourist attraction. There’s still a mine but it doesn’t run all the time; only when it makes economic sense to do so.

Wild burros roam the streets and you can purchase food to feed them. When I was younger, you could feed them carrots; however, they now have a type of diabetes and are only fed special pellets. When my youngest was just a few years old, we bought some carrots and were walking around town when a burrow attempted to take the carrots right out of the backpack he was carrying. The burros are descended from animals turned loose by prospectors. The animals are ranging further and further away; and they eat everything right down to the roots. They’re also dangerous to indigenous animals in the area. They also travel onto the highways and are struck by unsuspecting drivers. Local sportsmen are not allowed to hunt them.

I had to take my children to see this tourist town because it’s a part of my history and I’m part of its history. You see, the hotel has a second story which has been closed off to tourists because it’s no longer structurally sound; however, when I was in grade school, I visited this establishment and sent them a thank you note a few days later. My thank you was hung on the wall upstairs and the next handful of times I visited; there was my letter.

The hotel has cold, delicious sarsaparilla soda. The menu is all American and you can even get burro ears (homemade potato chips). The restaurant is always packed and there’s usually live music. There are dollar bills tacked to every available surface from thousands of diners over the years.

Today, when I visit, I like to have photos taken with my ass (my much-loved husband) and any family brave enough to join us.