With Day 3’s daylight quickly slipping away, I drove from Taylor Park Reservoir out to the semi-ghost town of Tincup for a quick look around.
As ghost towns go, Tincup (or Tin Cup) may or may not qualify. It certainly felt like the only occupants were unseen spirits during my early-evening visit. But it’s obvious that some people still live here, judging by the number of “no parking” signs. The town’s buildings are all on private property, so you can’t park wherever you’d like, or wander around and peek in windows. In my humble opinion, that’s enough to disqualify Tincup from ghost town status.
Tincup’s centerpiece is the town hall, which doubles as a church on Sundays. It was built in 1903, at a time when about 2,000 people lived here.
Standing in the middle of the intersection next to the town hall, I got a good view of the entire town. Some of those houses are still in use…
… while others are well-preserved, but boarded shut.
There are only a couple of businesses in town. One of them, Frenchy’s, is a restaurant on the far side of this reflecting pond, just off Grand Avenue (CR 765). It was closed when I was there…
… and so was the town’s old gas station, which now serves as a gift shop. The ancient pumps remain out front.
If the town isn’t ghostly enough for you, the cemetery will be. Tincup’s burial ground is divided into several sections, on knolls, surrounded by water. From the parking area, you have to walk across this bridge to reach the knolls.
Each religion has its own knoll. You’ll come to the Catholic Knoll first. It’s sparsely populated, or perhaps it’s just difficult to spot the long-forgotten graves.
There are a few clearly-marked gravesites on the Catholic Knoll, like this one, surrounded by a fence. Any writing on the wooden tombstone faded away decades ago.
Across another bridge, you’ll find the Protestant Knoll, which stretches back into the forest.
There are plenty of graves here. Some are family plots, fenced off from the surrounding graves…
… while others are (surprisingly) clearly marked.
The child who lies here was only five years old when she died, back in 1880.
I was only able to spot a few gravesites on the Jewish Knoll, and only one had a tombstone:
A friend pointed out the stones lying around the base of the tombstone. I had assumed they were placed there to hold the board in place, but she told me they were likely placed there by loved ones, instead of flowers.
Just a few miles away, another pass over the Continental Divide awaited, at Cumberland Pass. Unfortunately, it was still snow-covered, and impassable (as of early June).