A Colorado State of Mind: Victor

Victor is a town that stirs a wild heart. There is a palpable feeling of isolation and remoteness as you walk through town, only made more intriguing by the knowledge that in its heyday, over 40,000 people lived there. Today, there are roughly 400, and the abandoned legacy of the town of Victor resting at 9700 feet at the dead end of a dirt road is as exciting and authentic as it gets.

We arrived as the sun was setting on a Friday night. Parking on Main Street was widely available right in front of the grand Hotel Victor, our haunted rest stop for the night. In the massive lobby with sky-high ceilings, the owner gave us a brief intro to the hotel and explained that she would be gone for the night, but rest assured if there were any emergencies or disturbances she was just a few miles away. I wondered if we were the sole guests for the night. Judging by the lack of street traffic, this couldn't be far from the truth. She handed us the keys- "Room 301" inscribed in gold on the tag. I shivered. Room 301 was Eddie's room, a gold miner staying at the hotel who had quite an untimely death in the elevator shaft, just a few feet from where we were now standing. His body was laid out in his room (Room 301) for his friends to say their goodbyes. This room is known for its haunts.

Later in the evening we walked across the street to the only other open business, Dirty Sally's. Other than one elderly couple, we were the only patrons. The bartender was friendly and personable. Like the high altitude trees, her tall, thin body seemed well adapted to the harsh climate of Victor. She told us stories of her own ghost and orb sightings and sensations in Victor and gave us her best wishes for our stay at the hotel for the night. I felt like I was on assignment for the filming of the Blair Witch remake. After way too many high altitude beers and quarters spend on pool and the jukebox, we left the lonely bar around midnight and realized a couple of inches of snow had fallen during our time inside. The town was buzzing with silence. I looked across the street to our hotel and spotted lights on in the massive windows of the 4th floor- a floor once used to store the bodies of the deceased when the ground was too frozen for burial. I half expected (and desired!) to see a dark figure cross by. Armed with a hefty beer buzz, I was ready for some real haunts.

We decided to take the old birdcage elevator to the 4th floor and have a look around. Instantly after exiting the elevator a cold chill crept up my spine. Something felt "off". We decided it best not to linger...