I come around the mountain to a scenic vista, and see a lone road that winds its way up into the Rocky mountains. The way to St. Elmo, the ghost town that has been calling my name…
 Gold and silver mining is what originally brought prospectors here in 1880, hoping to strike it rich and achieve the American Dream. The abundance of riches found in the hills here also brought the railroad to town, running directly through the heart of St. Elmo.

But, when the gold and silver ran dry, the railroad abandoned St. Elmo, and quickly so did the inhabitants, and thus the cobwebs set in to preserve this place for future generations of explorers and history buffs.
 At least, most abandoned this area. Some had no reason to leave, as it had been their home since their time began.

The Cree Indian people.

“Only after the last tree has been cut down, Only after the last river has been poisoned. Only after the last fish has been caught. Only then will you find, that money can not be eaten.”
 These words haunt me as I walk from one end of town to the other, only the squirrels that now run this place are by my side.

They are playful creatures, running around me and even up my legs looking for a bite to eat.

Money will not feed them.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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