annette white at a ghost townI don’t believe in ghosts, the boogeyman maybe, but definitely not the ghostly “Casper” variety that resembles a simple white sheet with two cut-out eyes. But, just in case they were not the fictional characters in my head, I went to hunt ghosts at Goldfield Ghost Town in Arizona.

In the 1890s Goldfield was a bustling town with 3 saloons,a general store and schoolhouse. But, when the vein of gold ore played out, the quality of ore dropped and miners decided to mosey on.

It was a hot April day in Arizona, I was riding solo and the only thing on my agenda was to head to the Superstition Mountains to get spooked at Goldfield ghost town. It is a beautiful drive, amongst the rolling tumbleweeds, statuesque cacti and on the outskirts of any major town.
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The ghost town is now bustling with tourists…not ghosts. Strolling through the shops, watching the scoundrels gunfight and panning for gold equals a shindig of a day.
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The miners must have cleared out of town by horse, because they left their tractors behind.
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You can still get some biscuits and gravy or buy knick-knacks, like these metal cowboys, at the handful of shops.
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The Church on the Mount still has Sunday service (but, unfortunately today is a Tuesday) and is complete with an 1880s organ and pews built in the 30s. It’s backdrop is heavenly.
church at goldfield ghost town

Before heading out, put yours butts here…
toilet seat ash tray

 I spent an hour meandering through the ghost town, snapping photos and hoping to encounter something even a little eerie. I did not see, hear or even feel a spooky ghost, but maybe they only come out at night. Though I did learn more than I will ever need to know about ghost towns, dirty rascals and gold mines.

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