Did you know about the Gate to Nowhere? It’s by the Durango Joe’s drive-thru north of 32nd Street. Between the Caboose Motel and Durango Joe’s, there’s a concrete wall with a chain-link fence on top. The gate is opens to a perilous drop to the pavement. What’s up with that? – Catherine Higgins
As they say, “Be careful … the first step’s a doozy.”
It’s 9 feet down to be exact. Fortunately, the gate is secured by a lock and heavy chain.
The local cynic would call this an egregious egress – and another example of projects built without the end-user in mind, such as the Bridge to Nowhere and the Lake That No One Can Visit.
However, the lofty gate was a handy accessory back in the day. We hear the story from Patrick Boyle, who owns the property as part of a family partnership.
Back in the 1950s, Patrick recalled, there was a commercial building where Durango Joe’s now stands.
The lot was carved out of a hill, so a concrete retaining wall was installed along with a fence on top.
Meanwhile, the gate was installed so maintenance crews could access the building’s roof more easily.
Several years ago, the building had reached the end of its useful life. It was razed but the gate remained.
So it’s not so much a scandal called Gate-gate. Consider it a quirk that you can latch onto Durango’s version of a gated community.
What can you tell me about the old building at 1345 Main Ave? Could the second-floor door be there from a time when Durango got a lot more snow? – Mike Adamski
A Door to Nowhere? Not really.
The building is one of downtown’s last remaining wooden structures, probably built in 1892, according to a survey provided by the La Plata County Historical Society.
The guy who built it was Theodore Peterson, one of Durango’s first contractors and builders. It was his carpentry shop.
Peterson constructed houses, stores, the First Baptist Church, the Mercy Hospital addition, a livery stable and a Second Avenue hotel.
But the survey noted something a lot more interesting: “He and his wife had 16 children.”
This might explain the door. Was it an escape hatch for someone with 16 children? Anyone with 16 kids needs an emergency exit!
But photos from the 1920s show the shop having a large window where the door now stands.
Fire gutted the building several years ago, and it has been vacant since then. The consensus is that a door was put over the window hole as a stop-gap covering.
Regardless, historians point to the shop’s significance not only as a pioneer’s man-cave, but also “notable for its simple design, gable roof and board-and-batten siding,” according to the survey.
So a huge thanks to the La Plata County Historical Society. Consider donating to this great group. And they have an open-door policy.
Unless the door is on the second floor, opening to a sidewalk below.
H H H
Another week, another Mea Culpa Mailbag.
Our good friend Neil Bourjaily has an acronym for the Durango Dictionary: “FRAWD,” which stands for “Free Range Adult With Dog.” FRAWD is rampant in Durango.
An anonymous Durango Dictionary inclusion is “suer plant.” This describes any wastewater-treatment facility other than the Santa Rita site. Thus, if the sewer plant were moved to Cundiff Park, the resulting litigation from angry neighbors would result in a “suer plant.”
Email questions to actionline@durangoherald.com or mail them to Action Line, The Durango Herald, 1275 Main Ave., Durango, CO 81301. You can request anonymity if you have already purchased and eaten a bag of Halloween candy.
