The Ghost Town of the West
The opportunity to visit contemporaneous ruins of modern American history, and be a witness of resilience and grit by the gold rushers, the merchants, the prostitutes, the teachers, everyone that filled those mountains with life. As an immigrant myself, I felt it as a place of belonging.
I love listening to ghost stories. I particularly enjoy the art of the storytelling of ghost stories. The expectations, the growing intensity, the mystery, the embellishments and the frightening endings… I thrive on that kind of fear. It’s my dirty pleasure and I am OK with it.
I wanted to arrive in Bodie on the first day of the open season, which happens every year on April 1st and lasts until the end of September. I was looking forward to snow and no other visitors. I wanted really empty spaces, and whiteness all around. Due to the snow we were forced to park the car in the second parking lot area and hike the next 1300 feet until reaching the 8300ft where Bodie is nested in the mountains.
Looking at the Sierra Nevada from above its peaks was the most amazing experience, since I found no ghosts. Seriously, the other greatest experience is crossing its older sister, la Cordillera de los Andes, from Argentina to Chile by either car or plane.
TACANATION 