Monday, August 18, 2025, marked day five of the adventure—and the first full day with the group together. Now it was me, Robbie and Zane, Kevin and Maggie, and Mike and Jessica. Eric had managed to repair his axle seal, but he was still four hours out somewhere near Durango. We had no idea when he’d catch up, but with the GPS tracks loaded on his rig, he knew exactly where to find us.
After breakfast we packed up camp in La Veta and rolled into town for fuel at the Valero. From there we hit gravel roads heading north. Dust is usually miserable for the last truck in the convoy, but a steady breeze carried it off to the side, keeping visibility decent.
Bishop Castle
Our first stop of the day was Bishop Castle. In 1969, twenty-five-year-old Jim Bishop began building a simple stone cottage on land he had purchased for $450 as a teenager. When curious passersby asked if he was building a castle, he decided—why not? If they wanted a castle, that’s what he’d build.
Over the decades, Bishop clashed with nearly every agency imaginable. One of the biggest disputes was with the U.S. Forest Service over the rocks he hauled from the surrounding National Forest. Bishop argued they were free for the taking; the government wanted to charge per truckload. Eventually the conflict was settled, but the battles became part of the legend.
Jim Bishop passed away on November 21, 2024, at age 80 in Pueblo, Colorado. His son Dan has since taken over as caretaker, and construction continues today.
What’s amazing is that while the castle was being built, visitors were always welcome to wander in and explore. We spent a good while climbing its sketchy staircases and walking the high, expanded-metal catwalks. If you’ve got a fear of heights, this place will test it. At the very top, a metal sphere perches above the towers—and yes, you can climb inside if you’re brave enough.
Before leaving, we stopped at the gift shop. For me, buying something there felt like a small way to honor Jim Bishop’s life’s work.
Fuel Planning and Heading North
Bishop Castle was a fun detour, but with limited days and a lot of miles to cover, we pressed north toward Salida. Even though we still had plenty of gas, I topped off the tank. From there we’d be crossing Marshall Pass, dropping into Lake City, and then tackling Cinnamon Pass on our way to Ouray. With only one small gas station in Lake City—and no guarantee it would be open, stocked, or reasonably priced—I didn’t want to take chances.
Fuel stops also gave everyone a chance to hit the restroom and grab snacks instead of digging into camp supplies.
A quick note on gas: I’ve traveled all over the country camping and exploring, even running the Trans-America Trail. I’ve carried extra fuel plenty of times but never once needed it. With the range of modern vehicles, you can almost always make it from station to station if you plan properly. Still, I make a habit of topping off before heading deep into the backcountry.
Marshall Pass
From Salida we climbed toward Marshall Pass. I’d tried to cross it once before, back on June 5, 2019, while running the Trans-America Trail, but heavy wet snow had turned me back. This would be my first true crossing.
Partway up I noticed old railroad ties poking out from the road’s edge and wondered if the route had once been a railroad grade.
Sure enough, the history of Marshall Pass goes back to 1873, when Army Lt. George M. Wheeler assigned Lt. William L. Marshall to survey the San Juan area. Suffering from a brutal toothache, Marshall went looking for a shortcut to Denver. Accompanied by his packer Dave Mears, he discovered the pass. The two reached Denver four days before the main survey party, shaving 125 miles off the trip.
In 1877, road builder Otto Mears obtained a charter to construct a toll road over the pass. By 1880, the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad bought him out and laid narrow-gauge track west from Salida. On August 6, 1881, the first train crossed into Gunnison—the first railroad to conquer the Continental Divide in Colorado.
The line lasted until 1953, when the railroad gained permission to abandon it. By 1955 the rails were gone, the right-of-way became a county road, and eventually a natural gas pipeline was routed through in 1962.
At the summit there had once been a tiny settlement with a station, post office, and a handful of cabins. In 1948, eleven people still lived there. Today, only a few remnants remain—an old foundation, bits of cabins, and a scatter of coal.
Moose at the Divide
Just before the summit and the Continental Divide, something unexpected happened—I spotted a moose on the right side of the road. It was the first moose I’d ever seen. I’d been watching for bears all day, but a moose? That caught me completely off guard.
A little farther on, two more moose appeared off the left side. Unlike the first, which didn’t seem to care about us, these two turned and slipped quietly into the trees.
At the summit—10,842 feet above sea level—we stopped to stretch, explore, and take in the view.
Pushing Toward Camp
Marshall Pass was gorgeous, and I would have gladly camped there for the night. The area even had a restroom and a few campsites. But it was only 5:00 PM, and with daylight left, we pressed on.
By the time we reached Los Pinos Pass, the group was eager to stop. Leading a convoy isn’t easy—keeping one eye on the GPS tracks, scanning for turns, and at the same time trying to locate campsites is a juggling act. I’m sure it was frustrating for the others as we passed a few potential spots, but I had marked some Forest Service campgrounds ahead of time, knowing they’d have toilets.
We finally pulled into Spruce Campground along Cebolla Creek. It was nearly dark as we set up, but the place was worth it. The restrooms—separate men’s and women’s vault toilets—were spotless, like they had just been built.
No cell service here, or in most of the high country. Once you’re above 10,000 feet, you can count on being off the grid.
Dinner around camp led to good conversation before we all turned in.
Reflections
Leading six people who are counting on you to find the next campsite can be stressful. Before starting this leg, I thought we might make it as far as Lake City, maybe even camp on Cinnamon Pass, and a small part of me wondered if Ouray was possible in a single day. The reality was different. Even without Bishop Castle, there’s no way we would have made it to Ouray.
As it turned out, Cinnamon Pass would become an adventure of its own—one that none of us would forget.
Check Out
Vagabonds Colorado Adventure 2025 – Day One & Two
Vagabonds Colorado Adventure 2025 – Day Three & Four
Vagabonds Colorado Adventure 2025 – Day Five Map:
Jim Oaks is the founder of TheRangerStation.com, the longest-running Ford Ranger resource online since 1999. With over 25 years of hands-on experience building and modifying Ford Rangers — including magazine-featured builds like Project Transformer — Jim has become one of the most trusted authorities in the Ford Ranger off-road and enthusiast space. In 2019, he was loaned a Ranger FX4 by Ford Motor Company to test and document across the TransAmerica Trail. Jim continues to inspire and guide Ranger owners around the world.
