Calico Ghost Town, California

Calico Ghost Town has been on my radar for many, many years. I can't recall how I first heard of it, but I do remember pondering the name and wondering just what that place would look like. With "calico" meaning a tri-colored cat or a humble cotton print fabric, it just had to be the place for me.

Finally, I got on the internet and took a peek. That was about fifteen years ago. I found out that Calico Ghost Town was located in the barren desert surrounding Barstow, California. If that name brings visions of a hot, parched land to mind, you are right. It is not all that far from Death Valley.

Just the desolate location of Calico Ghost Town made me a little hesitant about making the trip. I love ghost towns and was really curious about that one, but...that desert was a little disconcerting.

After a time, I let the whole idea slip from my mind.

Then on my way to Utah last month, I saw an unexpected sign along the highway, announcing that Calico Ghost Town could be reached by turning off at the very next exit. Wow! I had to think fast. I was on a tight schedule and needed to reach the southwest corner of Utah before sunset. Drat! The ghost town was on the opposite side of the freeway, which generally spells "inconvenience". I decided to stop by the ghost town on my way back home from Utah.

As it turned out, Calico Ghost Town was several miles from the freeway, but the roads were well marked and I knew I was going in the right direction because the word "Calico" was spelled out on the nearby mountainside in white.

This giant miner was greeting guests at the front gate

 

 The short road up a canyon into town was flanked by some awesome rock formations.

 

 

 

 It was a tiny bit steep but was paved and accessible by regular passenger cars.

 

 

 The main street looked like any typical wild west town.

 

 

Historical marker No. 782 tells the story of Calico.

 

 

Most of the current buildings either housed the ghost town's artifacts or are small shops for the tourists.

 

The Dr. A. R. Rhea Drug Store.

 

This business doubled as an undertaker and a furniture store. 

 

 

At first glance, I couldn't figure this one out. It was called "The Dog House" and was made almost entirely with glass bottles.

 

 

One look inside, and the mystery was solved. The store catered to dogs--and cats. There were all sorts of pet parents in there buying leashes, collars, and souvenirs for Fido and Fluffy. It was the busiest store in the town. I understand that.

 

 

Hyena House Hotel was a four story structure built into the side of a cliff in the 1870s of early 1880s. The underground tunnel entrances can be seen but the interior is closed off to visitors.

 

A plaque outside tells some of the history.

 

 

Not much is left of the other early stone structures.

 

 

A small railroad takes tourists through the town.

 

 

I loved the curvy route.

 

 

At the uppermost end of town was the schoolhouse, which reminded me that I was due back at school in two days. Sigh. Time to go home.

 

 

I headed back down the hill toward the parking lot. On the way, I stopped and got a cold soda from a vendor at an old fashioned popcorn stand. I was a little sad to leave and wished that my stay could have been longer.

 

Maybe sometime...