I just got back from a trip to Colorado, one of my favorite places on earth. Granted, that seems a grand statement, for I have not seen a vast majority of the earth. So let us say… it is one of my favorite places on earth that I have visited thus far. And one thing I am oddly enamored of… the outhouses. No really. Outhouses. For you see, Colorado has some of the most scenic outhouses I have ever seen. Not old-fashioned relics of rickety clapboard with a moon cut out in the door, but actual functioning places in which to conduct one’s business while in pretty remote locations. Most up bumpy old mining roads. One of the main reasons I find these fascinating is simply the implications of what it took to get them there. The tenacity of early miners to get their equipment up there with nothing but a few recalcitrant mules already has me in awe, but in this modern day there are still folks out there (the Forest Service, local parks departments, volunteers) who not only built, but maintain and keep clean outhouses at 11,000 ft. Give or take a couple thousand feet. And so, as I tiptoe through the morass of pictures taken from this last trip, I submit to you one of the outhouses I came across in Eureka, Colorado. This is actually pretty accessible, gotten to by a county road (unpaved, all gravel, but still pretty easy compared to the mining passes.) It sits near the ruins of a massive old mill. Which I also have pictures of. But right now, you are more interested in the outhouse, aren’t you? I know you are.