Hidden gold treasure

Among the trees is where the spring is located.

The Lore

Of

Buried Gold

          As the legend goes, someplace near the ghost town of Clifford there is supposed to be buried gold. 

          It all begins in 1862 at Coon Springs in Eastern Colorado.  Coon springs was a stop along the Smoky Hill Trail.  Taking advantage of the springs and plentiful water an Army payroll detachment had stopped there. 

          Some outlaws jumped them and subdued the soldiers.  The outlaws got the payroll, reportedly over 100,000 dollars in gold. Mounting up the outlaws began their escape, heading out across the plains loaded down with the gold. 

          The outlaws did not do a very good job of tying up the soldiers for shortly after the thief’s had left, the soldiers were free and mounting their horses to give chase. Galloping across the prairie the soldiers were quickly gaining on the highwaymen. 

          Being loaded down with the gold the outlaws ducked into a gully.  They were going to bury the gold and return afterwards to retrieve their ill gotten gains.  Shortly after riding up out of the gully, the soldiers caught the bandits. 

          The bandits were taken to jail and sentenced to prison.  After their release, two of the outlaws were killed in gunfights and the third disappeared.

 There were stories of what happened to the gold and how the burial spots were marked.  With no more outlaws in the area, treasure hunters galore showed up to search for the buried gold.

There were never any reports of the gold being found but there were stories galore of finding marker stones.  These reports would fuel the gold fever even more.  Even today, there are folks that say the gold in still buried out there somewhere. 

Searching today is a problem, it is all private land and most folks in the area don’t like people roaming on their pastures.  That does not deter the treasure seekers.  They show up with their metal detectors and want to go hunting.  

Home for a Buggy

The Carriage House

            Built in 1890, the structure has withstood the elements for over 125 years.  Over the past decade it has had not TLC and the ravages of nature are showing on the roof.  Unless it gets some care, it will soon beyond repairs.  It does offer me a chance to speculate on how it was used, way back when it was built.

            The home next door was built at the same time and had its beginnings as a hotel.  So that opens lots of possibilities to how it was used.  Next to the old hotel had been another building that may have been a lunchroom/eatery as they were called back then.  It has been torn down and the hotel has been modified so many times it would not be recognized.  The carriage house looks original from way back then, a lean-to on the back has been added. 

            So why a carriage house, being next to a hotel, was this a rent a buggy operation.  Maybe it was a limo service, with the railroad depot close by.  Maybe it was also a taxi service to shuttle the business executives around the county seat.  Whatever it was used for, it leaves lots of memories of another era. 

            When it was built, there would have been no utilities.  Heat would have been a stove, water from the well and outhouse, outback.  There would have been stables to house the horses and feed them.  A stable hand/ driver would have been employed or part of the hotel restaurant operation. 

            For me, it is fascinating to ponder the daily routine of how these people would have went about their daily lives. 

            Above the carriage house can be seen living quarters.  One big room over the buggies.  No electricity, so a lantern or candles would have been used.   No running water, a bucket up the steps with a basin and trot out to the privy.  Heat would have been a coal stove, being in a railroad town.  Cold winters, hot summers, yet at the time it had all the modern comforts of the time.  Kitchen would have been the eatery a couple doors down.

            For the worker back then, living in a carriage house was probably a luxury.   Drive around town with horse n buggy was a status few enjoyed.  Few folks could afford a horse and usually did not have a place to keep it.   So walking to and from work was the norm.   Wonder what the life of a carriage boy would have been like in a small RR town.

            Hugo, Colorado is a small town that was built by the railroad in 1870.   Hugo eventually became the county seat for Lincoln County, formed out of a variety of other counties.  With the railroad as a main employer, Hugo thrived and ranching, Cattle and sheep, business grew to help support the growing town. 

            One of the first Harvey House lunchrooms was in Hugo.   Located in a local hotel, close the first roundhouse and near the depot.  The Harvey House and hotel lasted through the 1890’s.  With railroad changes, Hugo lost lots of residents and businesses but it managed to survive. 

            Besides the town surviving, many of its homes survived from the 1870’s and many are still lived in as homes.  It is fascinating to drive around the town and there are these little homes folks still living in them.  The Dickinson House was restored a few years back, built in 1872.  It is still a private residence.  The town museum is in a residence that was donated to the town, built 1877.  The oldest house in town was constructed in 1870 and is in serious decay.  The new owner will probably tear it down rather then trying to restore it. 

            So a carriage House from 1890 is kind of old, but kind of modern compared to other buildings in the town.  The only sad part is, the Harvey House is gone as is the old RR hotels.  Oh, Hugo does have a Boot Hill.  It is in a pasture north of town.  

Prairie Question.

Buchannan, Colorado

           

Situated along a wagon road, is the dot marking Buchanan.  The map did not indicate that there had been a Post Office there.  Other information about this little dot on the map is slim and none.  It was in the area where I was driving, looking for ghost towns on the prairie.  So I bounced over a few ruts and went to see if there was anything at Buchannan. 

Up and over the hill I saw an old farm house and some out buildings, long abandoned.  The homestead sat on the banks of a small creek and it appeared there may have been some springs there also.  The house was small but functional.  Behind it was poles for a clothesline, a chicken coop.  Further down the bank was the barn and some posts for a corral and on the other side was the windmill and stock tank. 

It looked like any other homestead on the prairie that got blown out during the dirty thirties.  But here it was a dot on the wagon road.  So now I am speculating.  Was this a transfer point, way station for travelers, had there been a store here, what importance was the Buchannan place to the early day settlers.  I’ll probably never know, but I found the place.

Driving across the creek and looking back, I could see a faint trace of the old wagon road.  It was a change in the vegetation across the way on the banks of the small creek.  Straight as an arrow it headed for the Buchannan place. 

Nearby on the map, there were other places marked as having Post Offices.  Abbott was few miles south on the road and further south was the Abbott church.  Yet, here the road showed up, having its beginnings at Deertrail, CO. 

When I go searching for these prairie ghosts I usually have 4-8 targets marked out on the map.  Places like Buchannan are usually and after thought but being on the wagon road, intrigued me.  

Helltown

Kit Carson, Colorado

         Situated on the eastern plains of Colorado, Kit Carson is one of those semi ghost towns.  Named after mountain man, trapper, guide and General Kit Carson, the village today boasts a population of over 300 people.  Yet during the 1870’s, Kit Carson was one of the biggest cities in Colorado, boasting of a population over 5000 souls.  The newly formed railroad town on the eastern plains had become a transportation hub. 

         The Santa Fe Trail turned north in the vicinity of Ft Lyon to make connections with the railroad and ship freight east.  Wagons were being loaded off the railcars to go west to the gold rush.  The Smoky Hill Trail was passing through with freighters and more fortune seekers.  The new railroad had moved its headquarters to Kit Carson and with that, came the camp followers and rail workers.  Kit Carson was a booming hell town on the prairie.  General Palmer had over 500 wagons hauling RR ties to help build the railroad. 

         The bustling, bawdy town rolled out over the prairie, tents and shacks dotting the land.  Saloons and red light district kept the western frontiersmen entertained. 

         There had been a small Army garrison assigned to Kit Carson.  Then when the Indians launched a series of raids on the railroad, General Custer and his troops showed up to protect the railroad workers. 

         The mixture of all these different people led to some wild times on the plains. 

         When the railroad was completed to Denver, the Kansas Pacific RR began preparations to continue the route to the Pacific Ocean by following the Arkansas River into the mountains and over the passes.  Track was being laid south from Kit Carson towards the Arkansas River and Ft Lyon.  This gave impetus for 

speculators to begin forming new towns in the area of now days Las Animas. 

         With this new work at Kit Carson, the town became wilder.  A gang of outlaws, thieves and rogues had become well organized.  They had become efficient enough to make the freight from a train disappear in a few hours.  The local gendarmes had little success in dealing with the outlaws.  The Colorado State Police were sent to Kit Carson to Investigate.  After a few years if investigating and gathering evidence, the State Police began making arrests. 

         There was an assortment of people rounded up and charged.  Among them were; railroad police, sheriff deputies and marshals’ and key railroad figures. 

         The arrest of key members of the outlaw gang also signaled the beginning of the end to Kit Carson’s heyday.  The Kansas Pacific RR was going broke and was in receivership.  The branch line to Las Animas was pulled up, making it the first rail line in Colorado to be abandoned.  No longer was there booty to be had.  The freight was gone, the jobs were gone, the Army was gone and dreams had faded, saloons closed, taking the red light district with them. 

         A fire swept through the old town area, burning up the shacks and most of the old helltown.  Today out in an overgrown pasture can be seen the remains of a few of the buildings.  Parts of the railroad grade can be seen places and from the air one can see the racetrack.  Nothing has been done with area, it sits there, nature slowly reclaiming. 

         The Kit Carson that exists today is a slow paced county town.  Main Street is a couple of blocks long.  Out on the highway are a few businesses that come and go.  Truckers fly through town and if one of the restaurants has good food, the parking lot is full of semis.  There are some neat classic old buildings still standing, gas stations, motels, lumber yard… etc. 

         Where the cemetery for the old town is…. Is a question?  One of the locals says they have a couple of graves in their front yard but where are the others.    

Pioneer Cemetery and Park

            There are times when the tricks are humorous and sometimes not.  Saw a post on facebook while back about and old cemetery in Colorado Springs.  It looked interesting, so I did some looking.  Found it on satellite view and it looked similar to the picture I had seen.  So I said to self, Got to go have a look at this old Cemetery.  So self put it on the list of things to do when visiting Colorado Springs. 

            I took the time one day on a trip to the Springs to go looking for this place.  It was not easy, down dead end streets and around backwards corners but finally arrived.  I drive up an alley like it showed on the earth view and it was a loop.  There was no cemetery to be seen.  Hum, so I drove around, turned down another street and on the other side, still saw no grave markers. 

            I was a pretty little neighborhood park, nice homes and a tremendous view of the mountains over there.  Still nothing that looked like a cemetery.  Over there was a monument and on it was a variety of name and dates.  Well groomed and cleaned inside a small circled stone wall.   Couple of benches and Pikes Peak was the background.  Besides me the park was empty, even the passing car was not passing.  A young couple showed up and spread a blanket out on the unimproved portion of the park for a mid day moment. 

            Well, humbug, said to self.  Wandered around and took a couple of pictures.  Went back to the car and went down the road. 

            Getting home, I did some more looking about the graveyard.  Found an interesting story about the graveyard and I as I read I began to chuckle at myself.  The graves were there all along, in the unimproved section, all the markers had been removed. 

            During the Great Depression, the WPA was doing a project there and removed all of the headstones.  When work was completed, the markers were not replaced.  I would guess that in secret location there is a storage lot full of head stones. 

            The original cemetery was called Mesa Cemetery and was for the people of Old Colorado City. Nearby is a large Masons complex of buildings and apparently some Masons were buried there also.     After the debacle with the WPA workers, the Masons went and exhumed their members and re-interred them in another resting place.    The cemetery was forgotten for a few years until some people started asking some questions.  They went to the park and did some looking and underground survey work and located at least 100 coffins still resting there underground. 

Outside of the park monument, there is no indication that there is a cemetery in Pioneer Park. 

If the head stones are located, how would the markers be matched to the grave sites.  Now that would be a puzzle to solve.  

Aroya, CO

Aroya Cemetery

            Aroya is a small town that faded out of existence few decades ago.  A few years ago it had a population boom.  A family hauled a trailer out to a vacant lot and set up.  Somebody else hauled another trailer out and joined and just in a short time the population doubled.  The boom did not last long, today the trailers sit abandoned on the north end of town.  The ghosts of the other building still there no longer have company except for the occasional tourist that visits. 

            The cemetery I never really got clear directions on where it was and it was not visible from any of the roads.  I finally found some people in Kit Carson, CO that told me how to get to it.  Park on the roadside they said and walk up the hill across the rancher’s pasture.  On the top of the hill you’ll see it.  Well I parked my car along the road and began hoofing across the pasture.  It was with care as I placed my steps for I did not want to make friends with the cacti that dotted the grassland. 

            Sure enough, up on the hilltop was the small cemetery.  The rancher had put a fence around it because the cattle were knocking over the headstones.  There is no caretaker so the little patch of land was overgrown with weeds and the north fence was buried in tumble weeds.  This time of year, snakes are not a major concern, otherwise make steps very carefully. 

            The ranch that owns the cemetery placed a monument at the cemeteries edge, listing all the people that are buried in the plot.  Well the ones that they knew of.  The JOD ranch, that owns the surrounding land, is one of the oldest continuing ranches in the state and still calls Aroya their home although I believe their mail comes from Wild Horse. 

Most of the graves there are unmarked and only the smaller stones are still standing.  But it opened more questions.  For the date on the graveyard is 1907.  Aroya was established as a railroad stop in 1870.  That leaves a number of years vacant.  My guess is, the hill had been used as a burial grounds but not much record was kept.  The other thing is, Aroya has been part of three different counties, causing record keeping problems.  Back then, there was also the tendency to just go dig a hole in the prairie, say a few words and place a small cross of sorts and life went on. 

Being along a stage route, The Smoky Hill Trail, there were numerous Indian attacks in the area.  Also being a railroad town, there would have been the occasional wild times on the frontier.  So scattered here and there are probably a variety of grave sites.  

Kirkuk, CO

            Kirkuk, CO sits just west of the Kansas border in central eastern Colorado.  Not much left of it.  It appears it had been a farm house that held the postal contract for a time.  There are few trees n shrubs there and steel grain bin. 

            Nearby is the Smoky Hill schoolhouse which still stands.  T was hit by a tornado number of years ago.  The concrete shell is still there and the boarding/ rooming house.  With the changes in transportation, the kids were bused to a nearby town for school after the tornado mutilated their school

            A side bar on the area.  The North Fork of the Smoky Hill River runs through the area.  Well its not much of a river any more with all the farming.  In the mid 1600’s lots of travelers on the Smoky Hill trail would divert at the fork and go north.  In the 1850’s the nort fork was carrying more water, so people thought it was an advantage to follow. 

            Not so, when they got up on the flats in Colorado, the river dried up.  There were no landmarks and most of the travelers had no idea how to find water on the flat prairie.  Many would go wandering looking and end going in circles, back where they started.  A few would back track and rejoin the Trail.  A few would wander finding the wagon trail to the north and the springs on the Republican river and by then many were rather thirsty.

            Then there were those in such a hurry to get to the goldfields they would travel during the prairie snowstorms.  In circles they would go, sometimes ending up further east then when they started.  Supplies were low and frozen travelers they would be. 

            Today the Kirkuk area is home to some of the most prosperous farms in the country.  And when the land dries out, the dust will still float in the air but no longer like the dust bowl days.  

Fort Cedar Point

Fort Cedar Point, sits just off of I-70 about 80 miles east of Denver.  Nothing there to mark the site where the Colorado Militia had a fort there to protect early day travelers on the Smoky Hill trail and Benkeleman Cutoff.  For about 5 years Company F was garrisoned at the little prairie fort. 

At the crest of the hill is an exit off the Interstate for Cedar Point.  It is not close to the military post.  To the south down the exit road is where the railroad established the depot of Cedar Pint.  Here there were some houses built along with a RR depot.  The railroad had put in a turning wye for the steam engines that helped pushed the trains up the hill.  Elevation of Cedar Point is just over 6000 feet and is a pretty good climb for the trains.  Even with the high power of toady it is still an obstacle to deal with. 

Today the railroad uses the siding at Cedar Point for a storage lot of surplus rolling stock.  Looking up from below it does not look like much of a climb.  The distance to the rails  is about 7 miles and an elevation gain of about 500 feet, a steep climb for trains. 

Devoid of trees, the land looks pretty empty.  Yet here the Indians roamed, hunting their buffalo and other game.  The hill is loaded with springs and there are pools of water in the area and small streams.  The Pikes Peak or Bust gold seekers traveled across this empty land on their way to the gold fields.  Here a trail from the north joined central plains trail. 

Cedar Point is the spine of the Palmer Divide, where the divide forks off to the Republican River Basin, separating from the Arkansas and Platte rivers.  The Arickaree River has its beginnings on the east face of Cedar Point from a series of springs.  It was this ribbon of water that early traveler followed as the Indians had been for years. 

Along the banks of a small creek that tumbles down the hill is where Fort Cedar Point was located.  Here is where the Benkleman trail junctioned with the Smoky Hill Road.  Traffic on the Interstate whizz past the trees that are in the vicinity where the fort was.  Some old concrete footers have been found in the area, along with old military metal buttons and spent shell casings.  Nearby were a couple of state stops, One at Resolis and the other at River Bend, the old stop. 

Nature has reclaimed most of these forgotten places, all within about 15 mile radius.  Old River Bend sits on the bend of the Big Sandy creek.  The railroad tracks curl around the hill and the old highway notch can be seen above the RR grade.  Here was  rough and tumble little town that did not survive.  Saloons, brothels and other establishments were a part of this little hell raining town.  Their boot hill cemetery is north of the River Bend exit.  There they were buried with boots on.  The old town is off the Kiowa exit and when crossing the tracks one can see the bend in the rails and where the town had been, now on private property. 

It is an area rich in old west lore, gunfights, Indian conflict and dreams lived out and lost.  Here were the buffalo hunters, going up into the hills camping on the Arickaree River.  Selling buffalo meat to the railroad, shipping the hides to the east.  Sheep roamed the hillsides, cattlemen wanted the grass land free of sheep.  The Indians lived in the woods of the Cedar Breaks, hiding from the reservation life. 

Today, trains still click on the iron rails and the cars fly by on the Interstate.  The high elevation creates nasty storms in the winter and spring.  Snow drifts of the land, burying the concrete slab in glazed white, closing the high speed roadway.  Baseball hail pummels the land in the spring and the uplift of the hills generates violence in the clouds, blasting the wind turbines with lightening.  It is a harsh land and for that reason few people live on it. 

Peoria, Colo

 

Much like a cat, Peoria, has had more then one life.  Today it is an exit on I-70 and a few empty building and some rubble piles mark the spot. 

Peoria had its beginnings on the smoky Hill trail during the 1860’s n 70’s.  The summer of 1870 the railroad passed through the site and they put in a depot and some section houses for a maintenance  crew.  It sits on a ridge overlooking the East Bijou Creek where there are springs and water. 

A store was built for the local settlers and later when the highway pushed through a gas station.  Peoria never became much of a town, mostly a stop on the railroad and a wide spot on the highway.  The railroad closed their facilities and the rest followed suit and soon it was an empty wide spot.

Then the Interstate was built.  Rather then isolating the area, it brought life.  Some dog people bought some land by the exit and soon the Byers race track was built.  Busloads of people traveled out the Byers racetrack at Peoria. 

The greyhounds brought the little junction back to life, well kind of.  There were a few homes built for the caretakers.  Nothing else but the race facilities.  The the racing dogs hit as pot hole and greyhound racing went into the history books.  For years the p;lace sat empty, collecting dust and tumbleweeds. 

For years it was an empty land mark next to the Interstate. 

Few years ago it was given a new life transfusion.  It was purchased and things were cleaned up, painted and new life as a race track of another type was on the horizon.

The collector of tumbleweeds and dust was looking new and shinny.  Time rolled on and nothing more was happening.  Activity around it was gone.  The ghosts of greyhounds were free to roam again. 

Today, machinery site quietly, fences are up and gates secured.  The prairie land mark sits in slow repose of nothing. 

Even the house looks forlorn as waits for something.

The wide spot of Peoria is once again an empty wide spot.

Old Saw Mills at Thresher’s Day

After the Harvest, lots of communities will have their heritage festival of some type.  These run through October in some parts of the country.  Here one can see many of the old machines that were used during the 1800’s in to the early 1900’s.  Lots of this could be found in the mining camps as well as the prairie land. 

The pictures are from scanned slides I took a number of years ago, well decades ago.  Since then things have changed some yet here is a glimpse into another era that is slipping into fading memory banks. 

The steam engine was developed during the early 1800’s and one of the reasons for the Industrial revolution.  The vertical steam donkey supplied power to factories and was put on the wheels to operate early trains.  Here the steam engine is a tractor that is being used to operate a saw mill. 

Lumber was critical to any early pioneer endeavor.  Building houses, shops, sheds, buildings… etc. 

The mill could be set up in the woods, town, camp or wherever a supply of wood could be found.  Down into the mine shafts the timbers went for bracing.  Out on the land there was a home raising and on the corner was a half frame for a saloon tent. 

It was fascinating to watch the old timers operate these old pieces of machinery that their parents or grandparents had used to help build their home. 

The lumber would take shape and one could feel the anticipation of new structures being built,a dream coming to life.  It was a shared experience, neighbor helping neighbor.  Working together to accomplish their dream. 

The crowd was just as enjoyable as was watching the different machines operate. 

because of the plethora of government regulations many of these old machines now sit back in the corner of the barn collecting dust. 

Corporal Baatz

One of those little puzzling quirks in History.  A German POW is still buried in a National Cemetery.

A ll types of questions rose of the mire of my grey matter.  When I first found out about the POW, I had to have answers. 

Being less then a detective, I went looking for answers.  Bottom line was, after the war ended, no body claimed the remains.  Even the country did not claim him.  So in Ft Logan national Cemetery the remains of one German POW rests in peace. 

During the research I found ot that Colorado had over 30 POW camps scattered around the state and across the country there were numerous POW.  Most were in farm areas and the POW’s were expected to do farm wok while in captivity.  This led to minor conflicts here and there and other stories.  Most of these camps are now gone and only memories are left. 

Baatz was not the only German to die while in custody of the US.  There were others who died, Baatz was the only one not claimed.  Not next of kin could be located.  The cause of death, I did not ask, yet there a few that passed on from lead poisoning from a farmers shot gun. 

A few of the German soldiers refused to work in the fields and the local farmer would get upset with them.  One such farmer told the POW when he came to work the next day if he did not work the soldier would be at the end of the shot gen barrel. 

Next day the POWE shows up, again he refuses to work.  Farmer goes off and retrieves his shotgun.  Different type casualty of war. 

Then there was the POW that was an affair with one of the local gals.  She was 2nd generation German and brought baked goods to the POW’s.  She fell for one of the troopers and he found a way to get out of camp.   A night he would leave camp for the evening to spend it with the lady that was just a ways down the road. 

this went on for sometime before it was discovered.  There also various types of escapes and manhunts.  Yet the mystery of Karl Baatz is still a mystery. 

Sagaus …… Shortest lived town ever …. probably

 

During the late 1800’s, the Chicago Rock Island and Pacific Railroad, CRIP, decided to build a line to the gold fields of Colorado from Omaha, Nebraska. Their destination was Pikes Peak. 

The railroad also liked to build towns along their routes.  For little towns meant customers of them.  Passenger revenue was as important back then as was the revenue from freight.  It also gave them reference points along the line where the trains were and stops where the train crews could be given orders along the line.  These little stops were on average about 6 miles apart. 

The railroad would set up a depot, sometimes, no more then a boxcar.  Couple of houses would be built for the workers and then hopes that a speculator would come along and plat a town.  Sometimes the speculator was already there waiting for the railroad to show up.  Lots were being sold on the promise that this would become a train stop.  Things did not always go as planned. 

Rolling across the prairie of eastern Colorado things changed.  The further west they went, the drier the land became and the elevation was gaining.  The land was over 5000 feet above sea level and climbing.

In 1888 the CRIP reached Flagler, CO.  Having bypassed other little villages that wanted the railroad for their site.  Continuing westward they stopped at a place they named Sagaus.  Here they put in a siding, depot, couple of section houses and a store was built.  All the ingredients for a town was in place. 

Westward the railroad continued, at Arriba a speculator was waiting for them.   A town was laid out and their were residents in this new town on the high plains. 

Being sandwiched between to growing little towns the the fate of Sagaus was doomed.  The following year, the store had closed, the depot was gone and the people had moved to one of the neighboring towns. 

Today the remains of the little burg are but a wide spot next to the railroad tracks.  Nearby the traffic of Interstate 70 roars by. 

Giving up the ghost

 

 

The little house on the prairie is slowly giving its ghosts over to memories. For decades is has stood on the grass lands, a monument to other times.  Here the dreams of the early settler was realized.  Their own home and a piece of land. 

Built in the early 1900’s and looks like added on at a later date.  Roots were established, A school was nearby and Town was not much further.  Roots were put down and a new life was begun.

Farm prices sky rocketed at the end of WWI and farmer scrambled to the banks mortgaging anything and everything to produce more or buy more land.  The bottom fell out of the farm market and there was no money.  The banks wanted the loans paid and there was none to pay the banks.  Then the dirty 30’s rolled in on black clouds of dirt. 

Soon the dream was vanishing, farmers were being evicted by the banks and a few with money were buying up the vanished dreams.  The building were left and soon the residents were cattle, laying the shade and grazing on the grasses. 

Having no use for the house or wanting to spend the money to tear it down the house settles back to the land. 

Chasing Ghosts

 

Out across the prairies are a variety of little communities.  Most have disappeared, returned to the earth, no remains.  A few have some old buildings or markings of some type to indicate there was something there at one time.  The post offices are the hardest to find for so many were located in a home.  For short periods of time a farmer or rancher would have a post office contract.

These places show up as towns and a few did become a town.  For the most part they were a private residence.  Looking on the map they are listed as a town.  Oops, just drove past it or where is it. 

So often I have gone looking for these places, only to find an empty pasture or a plowed field.  Well….. someplace out yonder is where the country post office had been. 

Then there is the farmhouse, drive on by, one of many homes that dot the country side.  Get the map out, hey, whoa, stop, I just drove by it.  See back there, that’s it.  Those buildings are on the corner of the once little country burg.  On closer examination, the building out by the road looks like a store, large windows and separate from the rest of the buildings.  Yep, that was the big city.  Now a farmers house and the old post office store is now a shed or chicken coop. 

Abarr, was one such place.  I had driven past it many times in my travels.  it is not even a wide spot and it blends in so well with the homes that whizz by on the side of the road.  I made a concentrated effort to find it and I still drove past it.  Oh well, that’s why they invented the U-turn.

On closer examination of the map, I spotted a couple of other little spots like this in the vicinity.  Now on other trips I have other distractions to go looking for and maybe find someone with a bit of information on these little spots.  Then they tend to have similar histories.  It is the characters that occasionally associated with them that garners the interest. 

 

 

Forgotten Frontier Tale

 

Some of these little towns of ghosts have quite the history.  Click on the links to read the tales of yesteryear.

 

http://lincolncountycoloradotourism.com/arriba.htm

When Charles A. Creel set up his real estate business on the site of present day Arriba in Lincoln County in 1888, he knew exactly what kind of town he would like to build there. The Rock Island Railroad track was laid near-by. Later that year and for several years thereafter, Arriba grew steadily and orderly, pretty much following the plan Creel had in mind.

C.C.Coleman wasn't in Creel's plan, however. Coleman purchased land adjacent to Arriba in 1904, platted it, and by 1907 was selling lots under the name of "Frontier City". And while his neighbor, Creel, had refused to sell property to people wanting to build saloons, Coleman allowed one of his lots, which was very close to Creel's home, to be used for a saloon business. The "wets" and the "drys" squared off. Creel apparently took it as a personal obligation to protect the people of Arriba from the evils of drink.

Visit the Arriba Museum to hear ". . . .the rest of the story."

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Arriba Museum

This museum contains a well kept collection of history and artifacts from the local area. The museum staff are helpful and knowledgeable on the museum collection. To cap it off, view their video which documents the entire Arriba - Frontier City feud. Quite interesting.

Visit the Arriba Museum to hear "the rest of the story."

Arriba Museum
Arriba Town Hall
Arriba, Colo. 80804
Open Monday, Wednesday, & Friday 8am-12noon 1pm-5pm
Contact Eunice at 719-768-3371 for appointments.

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Grandpa Jerry's Clown Museum

It all began with 13 clowns in 1986 in Sterling, Colorado. In 1990, I met Dale Ann and things went crazy. From there, collecting became a disease. My brother Larry got involved and became the biggest contributor to the collection. Both of our families and countless friends also got involved and the collection took off. In 2001, the museum moved to its current location on Arriba, Colorado.

Grandpa Jerry's Clown Museum is the largest collection of its kind in such a small building. The collection includes everything from baby rattles to a Picasso piece. It is made up of items from at least 28 states and 13 countries. Among the items housed in the museum are cookie jars, salt & pepper shakers (one of the most difficult items to find), coffee cups, tea sets, head vases, banks, music boxes, pictures, porcelain pieces, and countless other items.

A must see on your museum tour.

Grandpa Jerry's Clown Museum
22 Lincoln Ave.
Arriba, Colo. 80804
Open by appointment during the winter.
719-768-3257 Home
719-740-6195 Cell
719-768-3399 Work

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http://lincolncountycoloradotourism.com/gs-arriba.htm

by local author & historian: John LaBorde

Back to Ghost Stories HOME

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Arriba - A Tale of Two Towns
Across the prairie of eastern Colorado the Chicago Kansas and Nebraska Railroad was building a highway of iron. Many a speculator wanted the railroad to pass through their claim. Many a dream failed but a few were fulfilled.

A Charles A. Creel traveled to Colorado with the fever of gold and ended up in the gold fields of Pikes Peak at Cripple Creek. He heard about the new railroad being built across the high plains and headed for Colorado Springs. Mr. Creel packed up and went east. Out on the rolling prairie he bought a parcel of land and in 1888 platted out a town. Sure enough, the following year the iron rails went through his town. The man who had set up a tent to sell lots in his town had guessed correctly where the railroad would pass.

Sitting on the high plains the new town was given the name Arriba for it sat above the prairie. The pronunciation was anglicized and is pronounced, Air....baaah. Pronounce it the Spanish way and the locals look kind of cross eyed at you. A depot was built by the railroad as were other structures. The town of Arriba was a going little town. There were shops, stores, banks, a newspaper, etc. Charles Creel moved from his tent into a nice house in his new town. He was a temperance man and no stores selling alcoholic beverages were allowed. Arriba was growing and new people were arriving. A C.C. Coleman moved to Arriba in the early 1900’s. He was a hard working man that had a thirst. There being no alcoholic beverages nearby, he took matters into his own hand. Next to Arriba, Mr. Coleman acquired some land and also platted out a town.

In 1904, Frontier City came into existence and the first building in the new town was a saloon. The establishment was built right across the street from Mr. Arriba’s house, Charles A. Creel’s. That did not set very well with the Arriba founder as the view from his yard or window was of a saloon. The gall boiled over and Charles Creel forbade residents of his town to partake of the saloon and a fence was built between the two towns. Frontier City had what some of the people of Arriba wanted and the fence did not stop the thirsty residents of Arriba from going to Frontier City’s drinking establishment. Daily holes in the fence had to be repaired and a worker would go along and fix them. The next morning there would be more work repairing the holes in the fence. A few said that George was making the holes at night so he would have work to do the next day.

The fence was not very successful at stopping the thirsty residents of Arriba, so Creel dug a ditch to separate the two towns. The ditch only slowed down the residents of Arriba from going to the saloon. Soon the ditch became a trench and even that was not stopping them from going to Frontier City. This trench became known as “No Man’s Land.” and it divided the two towns. Each town had their own streets and businesses. Creel and Coleman kept up their feud until Creel passed away. Mrs. Creel did not like the feud and after her husband passed away met with Mr. Coleman and settled their differences. The hatchet was buried and Frontier City became a part of Arriba.

The trench of No Man’s Land remained and the street names did not change. Going East to West or vice a versa, when one crosses No Man’s Land, the name of the street changes. Even today after 100 years the ditch is still there and the streets change names when crossing.

At twilight just after the sun sets the sharp eyed person can glimpse a shadow or two moving across No Man’s Land. Quickly the shadows flit over the ditch.

In downtown Arriba there is a sign marking No Man’s Land. Here one can pause and look at the history of a town born of speculation, burned in animosity, pushed by desires, truly a town of the West.

Trains still pass nearby but the saloon is gone. The sound of tinkling glasses is a memory. A brief flash of light moves by searching for a place of respite.

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