Please note: This page has trouble supporting the format for the Towns list, therefor a front “card” has been inserted as placeholder when clicking on the Fundamentals link. Please click HERE to be taken to A List of Towns of the Old West.
My interest in the old west began when I was just a wee tyke. I had picked up some comic books at a yard sale and in the small group was one called Rawhide Kid. Inside, the Kid was helping Wild Bill Hickok get control of an out-of-control stagecoach. This was the start for me.
Fortunately I had parents who took us on lots of road trips and so at a young age I was able to experience the plains-states and get familiar with the old haunts of some of the heroes I had heard about. We traveled several times through the Dakotas, Wyoming, Nebraska, and Kansas, so needless to say, there were plenty of roadside attractions that kept the fire stoked; most notably would be Deadwood SD.
I remember visiting Deadwood in a summer of the mid-80’s. It was quite a thrill, but most of all I remember seeing a man wearing a gun on his hip for the first time. It was an odd balance of both thrilling and scary. In a scene straight out of some movie, I played the part of the young kid star-struck by a seemingly real gunman, and the fella wearing the gun played the part of the swaggering pistoleer. It was just outside the modern Saloon No. 10 and he was leaning against the wall, wearing his black cowboy hat and talking to someone. I stopped when I saw his pistol and I must have stared for too long (taking in this unusual site of seeing an actual living breathing man wearing a hat and gun), because his partner in conversation said something to him and he looked at me and laughed. It wasn’t a particularly friendly way to greet a big-eyed kid awed by you, but then, perhaps it was fitting, since many of the gunmen of the old days were not usually known for their active participation in the local chamber of commerce.
Deadwood was a fascinating next step in my growth of wild west interest, but the next level was reached a few years later when Young Guns came out. I wasn’t old enough to go see a rated R film in the theaters, but fortunately, one day I was at a friends house of my sister who had rented it and put it on. No one paid attention to that movie but me.
I was mesmerized; things were coming to life for me. Inaccuracies aside, this was a huge moment for the early teenager that I was. And it was a huge shift because I now started reading books about Billy the Kid. I had finally graduated from the thrilling adventures of the twenty-cent comics.
Over the years I continued to read more and more books, whatever caught my fancy. And in 1993 I got my first chance to perform as a gunfighter. During the 90’s me, my brother, and several of our friends spent as much time as we could doing shootouts in the old town of Shaniko Oregon (which you can read about in it’s own section by clicking HERE). Those were the days.
I’m older now, still just as interested in the Old West as I ever was, and I continue reading and studying to this day. But since I felt I needed an outlet I decided to start a blog. So please think of this blog as the same for yourselves, an outlet for that spark of the old west that still holds your interest.
Kid Colt’s.
This was the name we had ascribed ourselves when we embarked upon our first foray as pretend gunfighters. The first year we went it was me, my brother, Suede, and Tomahawk. It was on a whim and we had talked to no one in advance. We simply packed up the truck and drove the two-and-a-half hours, trusting that if a group of guys dressed as gunfighters showed up they’d be welcomed. Fortunately we were.
We didn’t arrive until almost midnight so we camped out by a deep river canyon, and then rode into town the next morning. A small parade procession was making the rounds through the tourists on main street (the only paved area) and as soon as we arrived they asked us to please be in the parade. From there it was all fun and gunfighting.
Originally there was me, my brother Rawhide, Tomahawk Rob, and Little Boy Suede. The following year, we added Paco, Oso, and Tatonka. And after that there was always a mix of part time guys who would join up for a trip or two. Little Boy Suede was named ironically, similar to Little John of Robin Hood and his merry men. But he didn’t like the name so we usually just abbreviated it to Suede, and in later years he came to be recognized as Big Jim Swede. It was an interesting thing because he was never little, and certainly became the most stout and strapping of all of us, but he always had a boyish demeanor. In the end, either name fit.
We went back to Shaniko as often as we could, usually two or three times a year, hitting the big events, and putting on shows to please the tourists. One of our favorite things to do was when a visitor would come in to the sheriff’s office, which became our unofficial quarters whenever we were there, and ask us to make an arrest. We had mocked-up warrants, and then we’d serve ’em to whatever family member or friend they had chosen to playfully harangue; it was always a kick.
Other than our forays into Shaniko, we, the Kid Colts, made a trip to Tombstone Arizona in the fall of 1994. Having seen the movie just less than a year previous we determined that we were obligated to make the trip and visit.
Coming from Washington state, it was no short jaunt, but worth every mile.Unfortunately, we’ve never made any other long group trips, but Suede and I have made several by motorcycle, and my brother and I have done some visiting to key old west locales.
Billy the Kid is known for hanging around Lincoln and Fort Sumner; Wyatt Earp for Dodge and Tombstone; Wild Bill for walking the streets of Abilene or Deadwood, and in that same romantic vein, I’d have to say that Shaniko is the old west town that I came out of. I didn’t live there, but every summer for a long time, we would show up and put on gunfights for the tourists on the weekends.
It’s a great little town and is probably one of the best authentic old west locations in the state of Oregon, but unfortunately not a lot goes on there these days. The hotel was always the main attraction, but it’s closed now, and without it operating, tourists just aren’t staying overnight. Don’t let that stop you, though, you can still stop into town for a sandwich or a soda and stroll the boardwalks.
Am I sounding like a PR guy for the place? Probably so, but it’s somewhat intentional because it’s a big part of my past and I don’t want people to forget about it. There’s a lot of great buildings you can see, such as the old jail cell and firehouse, the original livery stable, the post office, the old church, and even the old original school house.
Unfortunately the hotel owner had a dispute with the locals and eventually gave up and shut down, but if you have some extra money sitting in your account and you decided not to by yourself a Lamborghini this year, you could put it towards buying a piece of history.
In it’s heyday Shaniko was a sheep town, and a bustling one at that, but as with most old west ghost towns, the train eventually took business elsewhere and Shaniko dwindled. And staying in the vein of “most old west towns”, it caught fire long ago, and almost the whole town was burned down. Fortunately the hotel and other buildings still remain, and are definitely worth a look if you’re anywhere in the area.
Handy With A Gun...! 