“Be sure to see Old Town. If you never heard of Virginia City, Montana, you’re gonna be surprised. This was a real Wild West town with a real gold rush and saloons and whores and vigilantes. The vigilantes even hung the sheriff.”

“Sounds like my kind of place,” I said and started for town. “I’ll come back to pick up my stuff after I find a motel.”

“There’s even a Boot Hill and a Railroad Museum,” he called after me.

He was right about the season being over. The merchants looked hopefully out at me as I passed the few stores that were still open for business. I found Old Town without any difficulty and walked down the middle of the main street and there was not another tourist in sight. It felt like Tombstone at high noon with all the citizens hiding in their stores until the gunfight was over. I took a self-guided tour, going from store to store and sign to sign. It really was pretty interesting, especially because I had never heard of Virginia City, Montana, until a few hours ago.

Just like my friend in the garage said, there was a gold rush here. I wandered down the street to the store of Kiskadden and Company, where the vigilantes signed their oath, and imagined what the town looked like then. Not so long ago: no automobiles, airplanes, freeways, radio, TV, Internet or a million other things, only horses and buggies. It didn’t sound bad.

I saw the location of the first building in Virginia City, a bakery, between the Sauerbier Blacksmith Shop and the Bale of Hay Saloon. The saloon in turn connected to the Opera House, which was a thoughtful touch for the opera lovers in town. Across the street were the Green Front Hotel and the railroad depot. A voice behind me said, “Isn’t it just like I told you?”

I turned and it was Sam Culpepper from the garage.

“Yeah, it’s something to see all right,” I agreed.