The Mountain Man Mayor of Elkhorn

So far on my journey, having covered a couple thousand miles and explored well over a dozen ghost towns along the way, one particularly stands out. This place, Elkhorn, MT is unique not only because of it sights and historical beauty so much as it is from the presence of one interesting old gent.

The drive up to Elkhorn encompassed about 15 miles of gravel roads that split off from the highway just past Boulder, MT. I headed up to the town in the late afternoon, having explored Comet ghost town near Boulder earlier that day. I slowly wound up the valley that took me to the town and a couple miles before its border, I spotted a small stone building off the right side of the road.

This building seemed out on its own with no other ruins around so I was puzzled. I pulled to the side of the road and stepped out. Slowly I made my way the ten yards into the brush to access a door on the buildings far side. Upon facing it, I wondered if the building was an old storehouse or cache for some supplies. It was clear that the building may have been built to house items of some value at any rate, on account of the steel door with its loop for a padlock. Finally, I grabbed the doors edge and quickly flung it open, half expecting a startled raccoon or some other critter to skitter out. Unfortunately, there were none.

I peered into this small structure and saw large shelves on each side. There were signs of rodents and a few tattered old soap boxes and cleaning supplies that looked decades old but nothing more. The stone made it a good deal colder in there and a bit eery, even though the structure was so small. I gave one last look around and satisfied I hadn't missed anything, I walked back to the truck and continued on.

I drove another couple miles and soon spotted a cabin being built to my left. A bit further down to the right was a pair of giant ten foot diameter steel wagon-looking wheels connected to some sort of shaft. I could only guess as to their purpose. I continued rolling and 50 yards past the wheels, I spotted the sign for Elkhorn. The sign was old and worn but from what I could tell, it just gave a brief history of the town. Across the road from it was a large boulder with another sign. This sign has "The Initial Point" in letters bigger than the rest. Turns out that the boulder was the reference point for all of the first miners there to plot out their claims since the land had not yet been surveyed. According to the sign, "I.P." and "+" were carved into the large boulder but unfortunately I could not make anything out on it.

Past the boulder, the town and its many old wooden buildings began. There were two streets that seemed to run the length of the town, one straight down continuing from the road and another that curved to the left. Between them was a wagon that read "Elkhorn" on its side, I opted to go to the street on the left. I soon proved correct as I rolled along past an old garage and house on my left and an old worn down house to my right that together marked the beginnings of main street. The street was slope upwards, slowly climbing the rolling mountainside upon which the town sat. I continued ascending the street, and a few cabins dotted my left side. On my right, separated by some space with grass all around were two grand buildings and the only true public buildings left in Elkhorn, Gillian and Fraternity Halls.

The Halls stood two stories tall next to each other fairly close together. I parked the truck in a small parking area and then wandered up to the buildings. An old man behind me was outside a cabin across the street. As I stood on the grass in front of the boardwalk, the man yelled out and said the buildings were open for me to go in. I thanked him and then we struck up a conversation, with me asking a few questions and telling him about my trip border to border and he telling me what all to see in Elkhorn. He ended it by saying to come over later if I wanted more information about the town.

I was thrilled the halls were open, as most towns I had encountered so far had been closed on account of it being early November and so late in the season. I walked inside Fraternity Hall first and was surprised at how good of condition it was in while still looking to be fairly original. There was a curving stairway to my left and a small room to my right with a model of a old style water tower that was restored outside the town. Next I wandered into the main room, the walls were painted and floor worn from countless dances and town events no doubt. There was a stage in the back of this room with a small side stairwell; I could only wonder what the music played there sounded like in the boomtown days.

Wandering back to the front, I ascended the stairwell and found a few more small rooms along with a door out to the front balcony. Unfortunately, this exit was locked. Sauntering to the back, I encountered a large room with a blackboard in the rear. It reminded me of a meeting room where everyone sits around and discusses, so I imagine town decisions might have been made there. Satisfied I had explored the hall thoroughly, I went downstairs and out again. Walking into Gillian Hall, I immediately noticed that the building was mostly original, down to the lack of interior fixtures and wallpaper. I liked that however, as it shows off the structures truest history. The wallpaper in a few places still had its visible design of an intricate fleurs-de-lis pattern in a silver-green color. The rest of the building was just boards with two tiny back rooms. The staircase to access the second level had been outside but was now long gone, evident from supports left in the exterior wall.

The room upstairs at Fraternity Hall. The raised floor along the walls makes it seem like it would be a meeting room, but the raised portions also do not appear to be wide enough for a chair. Perhaps it was to stand upon.

The interior of Gillian Hall is left mostly original it seems, in contrast to its neighbor.

The wallpaper in Gillian still shows its original fleurs-de-lis style pattern in a few places near the center of the photo. I have been surprised by the fact that many larger buildings in ghost towns have seemed include multiple grand design elements even though they were in remote frontier locations.

Now, having explored the two main buildings I set my sites on exploring the rest of the town, including the newly restored old railroad water tower and the cemetery. The man across from the halls had told me they were both a must-see. I hopped back in the truck and slowly rolled up the hill through the rest of town, eager to get my exploring done before it got too dark. Many buildings or spots where buildings had been were marked by plaques on posts. Soon the road turned right after rolling up a couple hundred yards and went past a large stone foundation filled with old iron stoves and scrap. It made a decent backdrop for a sunset photo.

The town of Elkhorn is in the distant center right of the photo.

Near that foundation was a sign that said "Water Tower" with an arrow pointing up towards a path in the trees. I parked the truck and ran up the path, confident it wasn't far. In about 80 yards I came to a clearing, dominated in the center by a wide wooden red round structure around 30 feet high. A sign in town had explained how this water tower had been in a state of disrepair and near collapse five years ago, but through communal efforts had now been restored as one of the last of its kind surviving in Montana. Laying beside the structure were the metal bands that surrounded the whole tank as well as construction materials. It seems the restoration may not yet be complete.

The freshly painted tower standing tall.

I spied the door in the lower level of the tower as seen above and went up to it. I was surprised to find it unlocked, and I shined my light in. Dust and debris floating softly in front of my eyes, the area was immediately illuminated, and seeing another doorway inside prompted me to enter out of curiosity. When I stepped in, I could see the doorway led to the interior of a smaller square structure that helped support the water tank above. Moving towards the interior doorway, I shined my light inside. The dirt floor dropped down a few feet in the smaller chamber and contained pipes that ran into the ground. I wondered if those pipes might've led down to town or maybe they filled the tank from a well.

Interior photo of the water tower, doorway leading to a small chamber with the pipes

Now following the signs to the cemetary, I navigated the truck up the dirt switchback that overlooked the whole town. There were a couple lights glimmering below from the select few residents that remained there, making it a technical living ghost town. Then, the next sign in the road led me up a steep short ridge where snow still remained, and I began to wonder how easy it would be to see this cemetery in the dark. The man in town had said the road to the cemetery wasn't too bad so I pressed on, cautiously confident I could steer the truck through one way or another. Soon I reached a sign discussing the Elkhorn Cemetery and the Diphtheria outbreak the town endured from 1884-1889. I explored around the sign and surprisingly could find no cemetary immediately near. Pressing on, I followed a narrow road marked "one way" through the trees and soon arrived at a clearing. I parked the truck and grabbed my flashlight, as the sun had already set by then.

After looking around for a few moments with my light, I spotted the cemetery fence and then headstones. I took my time and walked around the cemetery, reading those that were legible and trying on those that weren't. There were a few large family plots surrounded by their own fences and also people who had been buried there fairly recently. I could soon see why. Through the trees I could see the last of the sun setting on this mountainside. The cemetery was a good distance above the town and I was looking over the top of that ridge that had shaded the town below from the last of the light. It made for a beautiful glow over the whole cemetery and seemed like a nicer place than most to rest.

In the cemetery, the toll that the Diphtheria had taken on the town was clearly evident. I saw the graves of many children and siblings that died during those frightful years in the 1880's. It makes one thankful for how well we have it these days and for the fact that many things that affect young children in such ways can be cured now. One beautiful headstone that particularly struck me was one of two sisters, Clara and Beatrice Roberts who died within a month of one another in 1889. At the top of the stone it reads "Here Rests the Sweetest Buds of Hope"

After exploring the cemetery for about a half hour, I paid my respects and hopped back into the truck, hoping to get back to town before the night was completely upon me. I meandered my way down, cracking down a few small branches in my wake but luckily none low enough to damage anything. Weaving through the trees did take some effort but I just kept my eyes up and in front of me and made it back to town within 15 minutes.

Here, I stopped again near the halls and the mans cabin and contemplated my next step. Being curious, I decided I wanted to talk more with this man living up in this remote place. I knocked on his door, and he yelled for me to come on in. Immediately I was struck by the contents of the space. The cabin was filled with all sorts of old relics and things from every decade it seemed. The walls decorated with old posters and photos and tables piled high with everything from ski poles to hats to giant rocks. He cleared a seat for me at his decorated desk and offered me a beer which I graciously accepted, then he sat down across from me. We began talking and he introduced himself as John. He told the story of how his great-grandfather had built the cabin he now lived in around 1892. He said that his family had always owned it but that it wasn't used regularly after the 1930's. It fell into a state of disrepair but John's father had continued to bring him there growing up and into the 60's.

Johns old cabin with all his rocks and wares decorating the yard.

John showed me that the cabin was mostly original, he still had his outhouse outside and did his cooking on the wood stove which was kept continually going for all heating needs. The only thing he added was power, running water for a sink, and the back room which acted as a bedroom/workroom. The ceiling of that room was covered with classic 80's and 90's posters including Einstein holding a Michelob in space, A Michelob ad showing man playing a piano on the beach in a tuxedo surrounded by women, and old colorful posters for the Boulder, MT Rodeos of the late 80's. It was a mashup of art that I appreciated, similar to my decoration style at my old accommodations when I was going to school in Texas.

John talked about the town and how some people had summer cabins up there but that winters were more lonely. When I asked about the number of residents, around 10, he also mentioned that he happened to be the Mayor! He admitted that there weren't many actual mayoral duties on account of the size and pace of the town.

Soon I inquired as to what the rocks outside were for, he began discussing his business of finding valuable or appealing rocks and selling them out in front of his house. Additionally, he told me how he started his permanent stay in Elkhorn in 2001, just one week before the 9/11 Attacks. He remarked that his lifetime home of southern California and L.A. had changed from what it once was and that he had just wanted to get away from it all. It seems he really meant it, moving thousands of mile from warm California to rugged Montana to the old family cabin in Elkhorn.

John turned out to be a convivial character and we ended up having a few beers while our conversation went on for hours. He told some stories from his younger days and some about his son Morgan who was a pro surfer in California. We also discussed current events of the times and John showed me his preferred means of getting news, his trusty portable radio. Additionally, John mentioned that he is a part of a documentary on youtube about Elkhorn called "The Last Stop Elkhorn, Montana John Bonan Ghost Town." Soon enough, it was late and well past dark so I said my goodbyes and left, promising to come see John the next day. Initially I had planned to stay in Elkhorn but couldn't find a level secluded spot near the town. I drove back down the road a dozen miles or so and across the highway and finally found a good spot in the national forest.

Woke up the next day and quickly got headed back towards Elkhorn to explore. A couple miles from my campsite I passed Boulder Hot Springs. Hot spring baths are fairly common throughout the west but not many are as impressive as the California Mission style Boulder Hot Springs Hotel must have been back in the day. The springs sit in a valley that was known as "Peace Valley" to the native americans since they believed all people were allowed to come there to heal in the warm mineral waters. The hot springs building is not as grand as it once was as you can see below, but it was nonetheless open for business when I passed by. John had said the night before that if you knew the right people you were allowed to go up to the natural pools behind the hotel but otherwise the only option was the indoor pools. Not being a particular fan of indoor hot springs, I snapped these photos and continued on my way back to Elkhorn.

Got back up to town shortly before noon and found John outside working in his yard. He soon started showing me all his rocks around and the particularly special ones. He had told me about two types of rock called Vesuvianite and Axinite that he had some of together and how Vesuvianite is a beautiful purple almost gemlike rock while Axinite is a brilliant light green. When combined like in a sample he had it made for a colorful sight, I regret not getting photos as I was caught up in the experience. John also showed me a tool that I was previously not familiar with, a jewelers loupe. That tiny sight glass allowed me to see incredible details in some of Johns rocks, including flakes of gold and silver and especially how fool's gold aka pyrite makes almost perfectly square tiny cubes on its surface up close. I was seeing rocks in a whole different way. I encourage anyone to get a jewelers loupe to explore nature in general up close if at all interested.

John also showed me some Montana garnets he'd found while exploring. He even gave me a few rough little ones to take with me. After looking through all his rocks in the yard, we went back inside and talked for a little while longer before he had to get back to his chores. I thanked him for his hospitality and the garnets, and got his PO Box number since he said he only turns his cell phone on once a month on account of the lack of any service in Elkhorn. I climbed back in the truck and waved goodbye, thankful that I had gotten to get to know this mayoral mountain man a bit and hear his stories. Now I headed towards Butte, excited to explore what was once the largest city between Chicago and San Francisco. It was once referred to as "The Richest Hill on Earth."

Some relics from long ago resting in the grass near Elkhorn's entrance. The item in the foreground is an old stove.

A marker discussing the history of the hall and Elkhorn itself.

Gillian Hall standing proud, It appears there was a front porch at some point since supports still stand.