Colorado Mountains, Skiing, Ghost Towns, 4×4, and Vacations

I’ve been on dozens of Colorado mountain passes, but the road to the Wild Irishman is still one of my all time favorites.   The road begins just past the historic Saints John ghost town.

Saints John is a unique ghost town nestled high above Montezuma with, what looks like, one part time resident.  The town’s original name was Coleyville, named after John Coley from Empire, Colorado.    Coley was responsible for one of Colorado’s earliest Silver discoveries around 1864.

Eventually, Coleyville was renamed, supposedly by the Masons, to Saints John, for both St. John the Evangelist and St. John the Baptist.   Now  a ghost town, Saints John once had a store, sawmill, assay office, smelting furnace, and a Post Office.  (Note, I did not mention a saloon!)  There were a mere 50 or so people living in Saints John during that time.  They also had a library equal to any of those found back east.

Once we were past Saints John, we crossed a river and traveled deeper into the mountains, all the time wondering how the pioneers could survive in this vast wilderness.  The trip took many hours, mainly because we often stopped to take pictures.  The scenery was almost overwhelming.  The road is somewhat treacherous in areas and made us wonder what a horse and wagon ride would have been like way back then.

Nearing the top of the pass, we came to the Wild Irishman Mine.  The area was absolutely breathtaking and strangely remote.    It must have taken the pioneers days to reach it.    Wild Irishman is not actually a ghost town, but more like a ghost camp because it was only inhabited by several miners and their families.  There was not a school or church in the area and the town was never formally incorporated.  You could never imagine the remoteness of this small camp until you’ve actually seen it.  You can sit on the ground near what’s left of the cabins and practically hear the silence.  You can look down at a beautiful valley filled with every color you could ever think of or turn around and see the timber line behind you.

We stayed at the Wild Irishman for over an hour before continuing on our journey.  Even though we had a map, we had no idea where we were going or what we would see next.  We traveled, what seemed like, straight up for the next mile or so stopping several times to take pictures.  (I think I took about a hundred pictures on this trip!)

Finally reaching the top of the mountain was almost overwhelming. No matter which way we looked, you could see for miles.  We were on the top of a mountain looking straight out, at eye level to the other mountain tops.   Each direction we looked, most of the mountain tops had a white cap of snow dust that seemed to touch the sky.  There was a cool breeze blowing, and once again, the sound of silence.  It was a very peaceful place.

We spent the rest of the day traveling down the trail, and as my husband says “stopping every five feet to take pictures”.  This was definitely one of the most interesting trips we have ever taken.  This trail is also popular for snow shoeing, snowmobiling, and cross country skiing.  Unfortunately, I’m not brave enough for that!