The Pumpkin Cheesecake Diaries - 1-21-2020

Brothels, Babblers and Banshees

Grey skies and a steady rain put the kibosh on our plans to ride to the box canyon. Flash flooding is a real concern in this part of the country. Facing a wall of rolling flood waters in a canyon with no way out can ruin your day in a hurry. Lynn, Peter and I, stood in the garage door looking out at the rain. Maybe if we stare at it long enough, it will stop. We could set up a drill and do some shooting. We could...but nobody seemed real motivated to step out from under the roof of that garage.

I had an idea. Dave and Cindy had shared a pile of information pamphlets on places and things of interest in the area when I first arrived. Vulture City Ghost mining town had my name written all over it. Lynn was not nearly as excited about it. She had watched a You Tube video that showed the place infested with rats. I was convinced the video was staged (at least I convinced Lynn of that) and the Walter family and their new Gypsy Vagabond friend piled into the Tacoma headed for Vulture City.

The town was left to ruin after WWII. In 2017, owners Prat and Moriarty began restoring the historical buildings, opening it up to tours, celebrity ghost hunts and special events. It has been featured in the paranormal show American Ghost Story on television.

We were given the self tour group discount. Pete purchased a Vulture City ball cap, picked up an information map and we were off. We did not need a guided tour. We had Pete. We wandered through displays of iron mining equipment before entering the actual town. Huge iron bolts, pistons...pulleys and gears formed the makings of essential mining equipment from a by-gone era. Pete has an uncanny ability to look them over – run his hands over the workings and tell you precisely what the thing was used for – before reading the description plague. I wanted to get our $12.50 back and give it to Pete.

They have done a wonderful job of staging the old buildings in the town with authentic period props. An assessors office – a kitchen and bar – a bunkhouse and a work shop. A wedding chapel and mortuary sit kitty corner to the blacksmith...just in case that shotgun wedding goes a little south. The brothel and doctors office are located in the same building for your convenience. I wonder which you visit first before going to the next?

I was standing behind a rope looking in at a dining room/kitchen. A porcelain wash basin, wooden table and chairs and cupboards lined with dusty cans of pantry items displayed as if the occupants had simply walked away 100 years ago. Then I heard it. Sweeping sounds from the room above the studio. Dust filtered down through cracks in the ceiling. I looked around for the others. I was alone. The sweeping continued. I peeked around the corner at the rickety staircase leading to the room above. There was no “keep out” sign. I took a step...the sweeping stopped. I stepped back down. Maybe I'll go find Lynn, Pete and Scott. I'm sure they would want to see this. As I backed out of the room, noise intensified. The sounds of furniture being dragged across the floor echoed eerily down the staircase. Yeah...I think the others will want to see this.

Where did they go? I searched the blacksmith shop, the kitchen and bar and the mortuary before

finding them taking Pete's picture with “Anita” from the brothel. Figures! I drug them back to the studio room. I wasn't scared or anything...It was for their benefit too. Really. I didn't want to have ALL the fun. Lynn wasn't so sure but since she hadn't seen or heard rats as of yet, she was willing to climb the stairs and check it out.

I half expected to find the room empty. My cynical side assumed it was staged for the benefit of tourist. We would climb the stairs and the “ghost” would step behind a false wall hidden from view...leaving the unsuspecting tourist to run screaming out of the building.

I peered around the corner into the attic “Hello....any ghosts up here?” My first sighting was of a hooded man standing in a corner with his back to me. A bit of a heart stopping Blair Witch moment passed over me. Holy shit – these guys are good! Our ghost turned around and introduced himself not by name but as the carpenter renovating the attic. He said he was just cleaning up after himself. Whatever...I still think it was staged and if it wasn't...they so need to add that to their ghostly tour experience because it could not have been more perfect.

I learned many interesting things about life in Vulture City during it's hay day. As we finished up our tour, I learned more about Peter's life as well. When we came to the work shop, he pointed out the different tools he used when helping his dad put on a roof. Before long, I noticed I was understanding more and more of his way of communication. It reminded me of an experience years ago in an Oregon Trail Interpretive Center outside Baker City. A Buffalo Bill impersonator was telling a story using Native American sign language as he spoke the words. Some time in to the story – without realizing it, he had stopped speaking and was using sign language only...and you understood every part of the story without realizing it.

I came to the realization that humans use far too many fluffy filler words to communicate. It has occurred to me how few words it takes to relay an entire thought or feeling. There is nothing wrong with that, I guess. It's OK to tell someone you love them to the moon and back...more than there are stars in the sky and on and on and on. For me, I've come to discover the simple gesture of interlocking index fingers in the sign for “friends” can leave a bigger impact on a heart than all the words under the stars.