Let’s talk about the stairs. They are narrow. They are steep. The treads are uneven because Jim measured by eye. There are gaps where you can see the ground fifty feet below. This is not ADA compliant. It’s also not insured.
There’s a sign at the entrance. It basically says, “You might die. We warned you. Have fun.” And people cheer. There is something so refreshing about a place that doesn’t treat you like a fragile egg.
You climb to the top of the main tower. The wind whips. The metal groans. And you see the mountains stretch out forever. It feels dangerous. It feels real. It feels like you’re alive.
The Dragon’s Breath
If you’re lucky, Jim will be there. He’s an old man now. White beard, strong hands. He might fire up the dragon for you. He pulls a chain, and a huge propane flame roars from the dragon’s mouth. It’s so loud it shakes the stones.
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He loves doing this. He laughs. He yells something about freedom. It’s theater. It’s a one-man show where the set is a kingdom. And the ticket price? Zero dollars. But you should bring cash. He has a donation bucket. And he sells t-shirts from a cooler.
If you don’t buy one, he might joke, “That’s okay, I’ll just add another tower.” And he probably will.
