Saturday, April 17, 2010

Maudlow

Schoolhouse, Maudlow, MT.


Playground.


Main entry, as seen from the classroom on the first floor.


Self explanatory.


Heater and interior, second floor.


Window latch, rusting away into colorful oblivion.


Supply shelves.


Textbooks. There were many more strewn about the floor, along with play money and other assorted elementary school detritus.


Art supplies.


Gas pump in front of one of the larger houses. I am unsure if it was once functional, or simply placed there as a yard ornament.


Door into one of the side rooms of one of the larger houses.


One of the smaller houses.


Curtains and an empty room inside the house above.


The town's last resident.


Inside the bathroom.

All Images © 2010 Declan J. Dillon
Please do not use/reproduce without my explicit, written permission.


I stumbled upon this decrepit town completely by accident while out wandering around some dirt roads north of Belgrade. As many of my friends know, once I start down an unfamiliar road, I won't turn back until I'm forced to (which can make for some "exciting" day trips). Thus was the case a number of weeks ago when I became bored with Bozeman, got in the car and started cruising around. I ended up driving through the center of Belgrade and meandering down Dry Creek road until I saw dirt road off to the side (my thought process is generally dirt+corners=fun). True to my typical form, I turned off and followed that road for a while until it eventually spat me out in Maudlow.

I ended up poking around the town for a short while, then going inside one of the smaller abandoned houses. The ceiling was caving in, and the whole place just seemed creepy. The dead cat resting on a chair, staring me down with dark recesses that were once eyes, just may have contributed to the aura of creepiness. I left right about then.

The town managed to capture my interest and hold on to it. I spent a few hours online researching it (which amounted to next to nothing) and looking at maps of it and the surrounding area. Apparently, it was a stop on the Milwaukee Railroad up until the early 1980's when the railroad shut down. One can assume that most of the residents and their children relocated to Belgrade for jobs and schooling, leaving nothing but a few ranchers and a number of buildings behind. At the present, I believe there are two or three operational ranches in the area, but the town itself is all but completely deserted.

I returned a few days after conducting my research. This time, I wandered around and examined the structures for a bit longer, but was ultimately forced to leave by a nasty snowstorm (typical Montana weather; bright and sunny one minute, torrential blizzard the next). I was now extremely interested in the town, and knew that I had to explore its full capacity. However, I was also more aware of the sheer spookiness of the place.

Today, I went back with two assets to ward off the weird: friends and firearms. We were able to explore most of the town, and a decent proportion of its structures. There were some structures, however, that we did not dare approach. The '70's style double-wide with a newish satellite TV antenna on top, the house with gnarly campers next to it and a fan blowing inside, the rand up the road from the school, and finally, the house that stank of skunk were all avoided. As much as I would love to explore them, I can't help but shake the feeling that they are still inhabited, potentially by hillbillies from Deliverance. If I ever hear a banjo while out exploring remote ghost towns, I'll break the land speed record getting the heck away.

On the topic of people, strangely enough, the day we visited happened to be the day when everyone and their brother decided to drive through Maudlow. Until this point, I had yet to see anyone in or around the town. What added to the oddness of the "heavy" traffic (a whopping six cars, but still quite unusual for somewhere 30 miles out in the middle of nowhere), was the fact that all of the roads roads out, save for the one we came in on, were blocked by diabolical truck-eating snow drifts and their compatriots, the mud pits. We discovered this when we became involved in a little tussle with a few of them after driving 14 miles out of Maudlow in an attempt to explore more ghost towns. This tussle involved some full-throttle mud bogging and the use of 4-low, but ultimately we were able to turn around and get back home unscathed. Despite the snow, mud, traffic, and potentially realistic threat of dormant residents, I still find myself wanting to return to Maudlow. I could even make it all the way through to Ringling this summer when the roads are clear...