I 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. It is a beautiful drive, amongst the rolling tumbleweeds, statuesque cacti and on the outskirts of any major town.
I spent an hour meandering through the 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.