The road in is 25 miles of hills, rocks, water, washes, Mormon crickets and cows. It disintegrates into a mere trail at times, but the destination is attainable in about an hour.

High in the steep hills of southern Idaho, Silver City is in pretty much the same condition as it was 100 years ago. Twelve people live there in the summer, and one lonely soul stays through the winter as a watchman when the snow is four to six feet deep. Back in the 1860’s this was the largest town in all the Idaho territory. I can say with confidence it is one of the rare mining towns I’ve seen that has not been commercialized into a modern town or a tourist trap.

I felt welcome from the very beginning. The girls working at the hotel/saloon/dining hall were pleasant and accommodating. I was shown to my room upstairs; room 4, and shown three tiny rooms down the hall, one with a toilet, another with a sink, and yet a third which housed a shower. The Idaho hotel was built in 1865 and does not have electricity. There is some solar power, which allows limited use of lights. My room slanted to one end and if I opened the door and let go, it would slam into the wall. The entire hotel leans in various ways.

I spent much of the day walking the hilly streets and taking pictures of many of the existing structures, rustic and quaint, and some of them in use as private residences. An old drug store, the masonic hall and the school house are but a few of the remaining examples of a once bustling mountain city. Yet, only a minority of the original buildings are left at all. Fire, extreme weather and a century of decay have left the scar that so many 19th century mining towns display.

At some point I heard my name called out. It was Kim from the hotel, chasing me up the road to invite me to a family style dinner in the dining hall that evening. That’s the way things are there, the hospitality is as old fashioned as the place itself. In fact, everything is like the old west in Silver City; well, except for the prices.

After my afternoon of walking and gawking, I went back to the hotel dining hall and hung out with the employees—who all seemed somehow related. I received a crash course in local history. The mirror behind the bar (still a stand-up bar) was the original 1873 mirror, once the grandest in these parts. Most of the old furniture, as well, is original. The hotel was abandoned from the early 1940’s until the present owner bought in the 70’s. But there was always someone around to protect it and make sure it wasn’t broken into and picked clean of its relics.

I had a beer and asked a barrage of questions about everything and anything. I was taken down to the cellar. There I was shown an 1876 craps table, still in mint condition with the original felt looking like new. There were other things lying about down there; a check made out to the hotel in 1927, some old poker chips, and the old hotel galley wood stove.

Promptly at six pm a group of six older locals entered the dining hall, and only moments later our meals were served. These dye in the wool septuagenarians knew everything about everything when it came to Silver City and the surrounding parts. But that was only a notion of mine for all they wanted to talk about were Indians in Ohio.

I finished eating first, excused myself, and went off walking up to the tailing piles of the old Morningstar Mine. It was purely a rock hunting expedition, and I found a few fair stones, but the mosquitoes were making a feast of me and I’d forgotten to bring something to carry rocks in. So, with darkness approaching, I meandered back down the hill and into town with my armload of souvenirs.

I went and sat on the balcony, listening to the birds at dusk. Any day gawkers had long retreated for the safety of civilization, and I was developing a sense of belonging. I stayed there late into the evening. All concerns and worries dissipated. I had no past, and the days, the weeks, and years ahead, were lost in the radiance of millions of stars overhead. I went back to my small room, and despite tales of haunted hallways, I slept quite well.  

I awoke to the sound of the owners entering the hotel about 7:30. All night I had been the sole occupant in this historic place, and it felt good. I went down the hall and took a shower. When I was finished I opened the shower door to grab the towel, only to realize there was no towel. The only towel was back in my room. I pondered my new-found fate as I drip dried for some five minutes. Because of the age and ricketiness of the place, any noise sounds very close. If someone walks or closes a door anywhere in the hotel it sounds like it is four feet away, and because of this I wasn’t sure if anyone had come upstairs or not. I creaked and peeked from the door, and as I took faith that all noises were out of range, I made my naked dash to my room for the towel. I slipped along the way and suffered an awful premonition of crashing through the old wooden floor and landing in the kitchen below where the owner and her daughter were preparing breakfast. But I was able to catch myself from falling, and “What if’s” remained “What if’s.”

After dressing and packing I went down to the hall where the owner and a couple of miners were talking. A fine breakfast was served, and I got some coffee and chatted with one of the miners. He belongs to a gold miners club where $30 per year can get him on numerous claims in Idaho, Nevada and Utah. He told me some interesting stories as we wolfed down our food.   

I simply did not want to leave. Coming here for only one night was not enough. Unfortunately, I had to get to Boise, and I got on the long trail out, while making a promise to myself that I would return someday with more ample time.

The road out is steep and windy with switchbacks and abrupt drop offs. I had come in from Jordan Valley, but was leaving on a different road toward Murphy. It is a better road. That is to say it is graded and provides sweeping vistas of near and distant hills and plateaus. At high spots my phone service was restored, and I felt that civilization was not far off. This was good, and this was bad. After 20 miles or so I connected with SR78.

Silver City, located in Owyhee County, is about 25 miles east of Jordan Valley near the Oregon/Idaho border by dirt and gravel roads. I recommend a four-wheel drive, or at least a vehicle with good clearance if you want to explore the area. Silver City is accessible only in the summer months, unless you want to attempt it by snowmobile.