Many visitors’ perceptions of the Old West were shaped by John Wayne. But ghost towns tell the real story.
Until recently, no one thought much about defunct towns scattered across the West. The past was too recent. No one cared if they disappeared. Many did.
A traveler seeking out these ghost towns can still find them, but some have become museums, some tourist traps. Those in their original state are fast disappearing.
Before they all vanished, I decided to search them out. From the Black Hills of South Dakota, I crossed the vast rangeland of Wyoming and climbed into the rugged mountains of Montana, a trip of about 800 miles, one way. Trying to get a feel for frontier life, I sought the history behind the enormous but sparsely populated states.
Heading west from Rapid City, I immediately found three South Dakota relics of the not-so-distant past.
Dense forest no longer surround picturesque Nemo, once the center of the Black Hills’ timber industry. Forty people live here today, and the only business is a dude ranch. Nemo’s log church (still active) is well-preserved and a typical example of local architecture.
Five miles on is what was Benchmark. Vacant since 1930, all that remains is a solitary ranchhouse. Doors and windows are empty holes; the roof gapes. Another building, standing until 20 years ago, now is a pile of decaying lumber. Twenty years from now, probably nothing will remain of Benchmark.
Farther west is Roubaix (population 11). Founded in 1878, it mushroomed around the Uncle Sam Mine. By 1899 it had 500 people and published its own newspaper. A flood caved in the mine and it was abandoned in 1905. The restored post office now houses mining company caretakers. The old hospital is home to a family of nine. Service is still held in the church every Sunday.
I climbed above 6,000 feet to enter Lead (pronounced “leed”), site of the Homestake Mine, now the hemisphere’s largest gold producer. Though far from a ghost town, the population of Lead has dwindled to 4,000. Residents work in the mine or survive on tourism (mine tours in summer, skiing in winter).
The price of fame
Two miles south is one of the West’s most famous ghost towns-or, rather, former ghost towns. Deadwood’s population swelled to 4,000 when gambling was legalized in 1989. (In their heyday, Deadwood and neighboring Lead had a combined population of 75,000.) Twenty years ago it was all but dead. Now it’s a tourist trap with 80 casinos. Wild Bill Hickok was shot here, and a re-enactment of Jack McCall’s trial is performed nightly during the summer. Thousands annually visit the graves of Wild Bill, Calamity Jane, Preacher Smith and Potato Creek Johnny in Mt. Moriah Cemetery.
Leaving the glitter of Deadwood, I continued west, seeking history that will soon be forgotten. In scenic Spearfish Canyon, I found a memorial to the West’s first gold discovery. Ezra Kind’s party found the precious metal in 1834, but their triumph was shortlived. Before returning home they were killed by Indians, but Kind etched his story on a stone that was found in 1932.
There is now little but a railroad sign and a single old house to remind us of Elmore. From here, the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Railroad began its climb up the side of Spearfish Canyon, and a hike along the old tracks offers spectacular scenery-and raises a question: How did a train ever make it up here? The line washed out in a 1933 flood, and Elmore died with it.
The most extensive Black Hills ghost town is Tinton, near the Wyoming border. The post office and general store appear to have closed only recently. The Miners’ Hall, 20 miners’ homes and the mine building still stand, overlooking a magnificent valley.
Crossing into Wyoming, I reached Welcome-now a single two-story log house that is still inhabited occasionally. Following the creek downstream, I found the remains of two more houses and a sheet-metal building with a sign reading “Black Hills Tin Company.” A mile southwest is Mineral Hill, where mine buildings and some small houses-all unoccupied-are scattered on either side of Spotted Tail Creek.
In Wyoming, mine closures and floods didn’t decimate the settlements-dust and the Depression did. Many of these towns are semi-ghost towns today, still struggling to survive on wind-blown prairies.
Node (population 15) lies 120 miles south of the Black Hills, across undulating rangeland typical of the state. The cemetery (home to far more residents than the remaining houses) tells its own sad story.
Outpost post office
West of Node is Lost Springs, America’s smallest town with a post office in 1960 when its population was five. (It still has the post office, but since its population has mushroomed to nine, it has lost that distinction to an even tinier hamlet.) Once it had a railway station and newspaper. The paper died in 1932 and trains no longer stop. The railroad recently tried to build an embankment, but the townsfolk objected and won-proving that the lilac bushes outside the two remaining homesteads are not the only life in town.
My next stop was on the edge of the Shoshone National Forest in western Wyoming at more than 7,000 feet. The ground is rutted with scars of wagons wheels at South Pass, where 300,000 crossed the Continental Divide. Pioneers harassed by Indians, Mormons en route to Salt Lake City, diehards from California goldfields pursuing rumors of new strikes-all passed this way. John Browning repaired firearms here. Calamity Jane was a South Pass belle. Buffalo Bill crossed as a Pony Express rider. This is history that even mankind’s indifference cannot destroy.
In 1842, gold was discovered 12 miles to the northeast. South Pass City had 3,000 people by 1871. The county seat of Carter County, a county since split up that then covered a third of Wyoming, it almost became the state capital. In 1869 the town passed America’s first women’s suffrage laws, and a year later appointed Esther Morris as the world’s first female justice of the peace. Alas, by 1875 South Pass City was almost deserted. Today the population is 10. Now a National Historic Site, restoration is ongoing. The tiny frame cabins with narrow beds are being turned into a museum of frontier life. The Grecian Saloon and the Exchange Bank have been rebuilt and refitted with period items.
Two miles away is the inappropriately named Atlantic City, surrounded not by ocean but by mountain peaks of more than 12,000 feet. The views are breathtaking, but don’t be surprised by snowstorms even in July. The Wyoming legislature is considering legalizing gambling here.
Swinging north into Montana, I drove north to Castle, 60 miles east of Helena, the state capital. An 1880s silver town, it was killed by demonetization and is now pure ghost. After leaving South Pass City, Calamity Jane ran a restaurant here. Today you’ll find an assortment of buildings in various stages of collapse.
Born of gold
West of Helena is Marysville (population 45). Sleepy and non-commercial today, it was spawned by the 1876 discovery of the Drum Lummon Lode, Montana’s leading gold producer. Remnants of broken sidewalks, saloons, a schoolhouse, two churches, stone commercial buildings and the mine remain. All have genuine charm-and the woman who runs the general store will happily reminisce about her town.
An hour farther west, just before Missoula, the town of Garnet lies up a steep, unpaved road. Unlike many Montana boomtowns, Garnet enjoyed moderate prosperity into the 20th Century before fading away in the 1920s. Now it’s a classic example of a primitive Rocky Mountain ghost town. Many buildings have no floors but are simply boards stuck into the ground. Gaze across peaceful forested hills. Wonder at the fortitude of men who worked here. Garnet was severely damaged by vandals in the 1960s.
Traveling southwest toward Butte, I found Granite. The silver bonanza ended in 1893 and 3,000 residents left in one day, but the town was revived in 1898 and the mine worked until 1958. The only thing standing today is the Miner’s Union Hall and some mine buildings, but dramatic mountain views make it worth seeing.
Northeast of Butte on an unpaved road is Elkhorn, perhaps the finest Western ghost town. Scores of log and frame structures-all now empty-nestle in a valley ringed by evergreens. Chinked with lime to insulate against fierce winters, the square-hewn logs of the rustic cabins typify period building styles. Two hotels remain, but the most striking building is the Fraternity Hall, scene of meetings, dances, a murder and the trial and conviction of the killer.
Mills have proved less fragile than town buildings. The hulking structures are often our best witnesses to the determination needed to mine the Rockies. Adopted by cows today, the mill in Elkhorn is a classic example.
The final stop on my tour was at the State Historical Park surrounding Bannack, Montana’s first capital and an 1862 gold rush town. Weathered ruins of the capitol (made of logs), Hotel Meade and log cabins remain, not restored but suspended in time. Ideal for absorbing the aura of a ghost, Bannack is cared for and preserved, yet epitomizes a sense of abandonment, peace and serenity.
