The Holiday season is almost upon us, but I wanted to beat the rush and madness that will soon happen. A trip up to Jerome for some unique Christmas gifts seemed in order.
The shops accommodate the gifts I wanted for the youngsters, and as I am walking back to the car, I am intrigued by a sign pointing towards a ghost town just a mile up the road…..Gold King Mine Ghost Town.
The place is a graveyard of junk cars and old mining equipment. The working saw mill grinds and spins at the top of the hill, the only noise to be heard. I find a shrine built in front of the entrance…
Don Robertson.
For 30 years, this master mechanic and builder was the caretaker and operator of this place, only to have passed on earlier this week. I find immense comfort in his solitary eyes, perhaps a soul that mirrors my own.
The relics of this place take on a new meaning as I slowly walk through the treasures that Don so carefully gathered and maintained for future generations.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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