A Castle and a Picnic

We awoke to sunlight streaming in our windows at 5:45—it was just like camping, only much more luxurious and with less dirt. Patty fixed us a scrumptious breakfast of hot spiced fruit, toasted sourdough (the boys had their cereal, declining their own toast), peppered bacon and scrambled eggs and we ate until we were stuffed.

We decided our plans for the morning—a driving trip over the Wet Mountains to a local attraction called Bishop’s Castle, and a picnic in the High Country on the way back. We drove on those Colorado gravel road for an hour, taking in the scenery. Eventually we met up with a highway, and drove along for about 20 minutes when we pulled off at the crest of a hill where many other cars were parked.

I could not have been more astonished at the scene.



Patty had told us the story—an eccentric anti-government hermit has spent his life completing a huge Gothic castle he started in the sixties. Along the way, the oddity began attracting visitors, and now is even listed in some local tour guides. Patty described it as a “Dr. Seuss” kind of house—which is a perfect description.

First of all, as you can see, it is really a castle—flying buttresses, arched windows, towers, masthead dragon, Russian dome and all. The alarming and charming thing about it is, this man built the castle with no attention to building codes (or safety). The risk you take (and of which he assumes no liability) is clearly spelled out on a big plywood sign he set out in front of the castle, along with some other various anti-government screeds if you care to read his opinion.



Stairs are built way too steep with puny handrails, dozens of walkways make of welded together thick metal screens wind precariously around the towers and extend as walkways 100 feet off the ground. It is fantastic and absolutely terrifiying.

We all went to the second level--there were open areas to the floor below blocked only by sawhorses. Multiple staircases wound up, and Patty and I left the kids with Scott and decided to go up one of the towers (primarily because it was enclosed and we wouldn't kill ourselves if we fell. The stairs were ridiculous and there were only metal loops occasionally imbedded in the wall for handrails.




We went up forever it seemed and ended up on a tiny landing right above the main gable with the dragon. I had to sit down before I threw up.



Well, I got my pictures and we made it back down. I looked up at where we had been and felt like a wimp--the landing was only halfway up the tower! I couldn't believe some of the folks that were walking on those rickety metal walkways high above where we had been. Amazingly, no one has yet died in the castle.

The guy was working on his Bobcat building a moat while we were there. He has plans for an enormous castle wall with turrets around the place. As he appears in his sixties, I'm not sure if he'll finish.

We escaped Bishop's Castle with all of our kids and limbs intact and took a side drive over the Wet Mountains to Patty's cabin. After we topped the last ridge and the Sangre de Cristos came into view, we stopped for a picnic lunch. The grade was pretty steep, but we all found a place to sit and admire the beautiful view. Unfortunately, our picnic got cut a bit short by thunder, and as we were sitting ducks up there, we scrambled for the car pretty fast!

Patty left us that afternoon to go back to Sedalia, and we had a quiet dinner and evening just hanging out in that marvelous place.