We had not been long at the mountain home of Barb’s sister Audrey when she suggested that we jump into the car and go see Bishop Castle.  We had no idea what we were going to see, and were totally amazed.  We climbed up into the Castle, reaching up so high that we were above the stone and instead onto a shaky peak constructed of steel rebar.  After a few quick photos we retreated to the lower rock portion of the tower.

Here is a description of Bishop Castle culled from several web sources:

Bishop Castle started as a family construction project and is named after its constructor, Jim Bishop.

The Castle is located in south central Colorado along a paved public road, State Highway 165, a part of the Frontier Pathways Scenic and Historic Byway, and Bishop Castle is shown on the official map.

Construction of the castle began in 1969, when Bishop began construction on a family cottage, which he decided to surround with rocks. Several neighbors noted that the structure looked something like a castle. Bishop took this into consideration and soon began building his castle. He had bought the land when he was fifteen for a price of $450. In 1996, he was challenged by the local and state government over unsanctioned road signs that pointed to the site. They settled the dispute by issuing official road signs.

For nearly 45 years, Jim Bishop has been building the castle on a mountainside in central Colorado. “Did it all myself, don’t want any help,” he says.

Every year since 1969, Bishop has single-handedly gathered and and worked at setting over 1000 tons of rock to create this stone and iron fortress in the middle of nowhere. It hasn’t been easy. For most of those 45 years Bishop was engaged in a running battle with Washington bureaucrats over the rocks that he used, which came from the San Isabel National Forest that surrounds the castle property. Bishop felt that they were his for the taking, the government wanted to charge him per truckload.

Another bone of contention that stuck in Bishop’s craw belonged to the Colorado state Chamber of Commerce, which refused to list Bishop Castle as an attraction in its official tourism guides.

Happily, those angry years are in the past. Both Uncle Sam and the Colorado Chamber now recognize that Bishop’s Castle is marketable, and that he’s transformed some heavy, unwanted rocks into pure tourism gold.

Bishop’s goal is to complete his castle before he dies. He has no thought of slowing down. Although the castle is mostly a hollow shell of cemented rocks and ornamental ironwork (Jim Bishop’s regular line of business), his future plans include completion of a moat and a drawbridge, a roller coaster mounted on the castle’s outer wall, and a balcony big enough to hold an orchestra. He also wanted to build a second castle for Phoebe, his wife, but she passed before he could even start on that one.

To a great extent, the construction of Bishop Castle has been fueled by creator Jim Bishop’s inveterate hatred of authority and his contempt for anyone willing to submit to that authority. He has spent years battling zoning, health, noise, and sales tax regulations in his ongoing quest to single-handedly expand and modify “the largest one-man construction project in the country, quite possibly the world,” all the while arguing that the government has “pulled a fast one on the american SHEEPLE” by chiseling away at our constitutional rights through a monolithic global conspiracy. Along the way, certain neighbors have accused Jim of being a satanic presence for allowing rave parties in the castle, and at one point several years ago, he and his son even had to overcome fifteen felony charges in court for dispersing a large group of unruly wedding party guests with a shotgun.

A visit to the Castle is always free and open to the public. Donations and purchases from a gift shop the Bishop family built on castle grounds have paid for construction of the castle and for a charity to give treatment for children in need.

The drive to Bishop Castle is a steadily curving incline along Highway 165, a road just southwest of Pueblo, Colorado that leads through dense stands of Ponderosa pine, broad meadows, and sharp ledges that open below to sweeping vistas of uncultivated ranch land. After several miles of steep road surrounded by thickening forest, visitors finally reach their destination at 9,000 feet above sea level in the thin Colorado air. Dozens of cars line the road, and scores of people stroll toward a thick barricade of trees penetrated by a dirt trail that passes a moat and a bridge Jim has been working on for the last several years.

Just a few hundred feet farther up the trail sits Bishop Castle. Jutting above the trees, a dragon’s head of charred silver cranes over the castle’s face. The castle itself, a throwback to the Middle Ages and a testament to human endurance, sprawls in unapologetic splendor across a wide expanse of gradually sloping open ground. Every stone and every inch of mortar seem to have been hurled into a conflation of ordered chaos on a massive scale by a man who has never once used a blueprint or floor plan, only his sheer force of will and self-described “God-given genius.”

Flying buttresses on every side of the structure anchor three floors, lending the castle an appearance of stability and Old World elegance. On the southeast corner, a column of 42 outer steps dropping from the third floor to the ground juts out at 60 degrees.

If you are ever anywhere near this part of Colorado, be sure to stop and see this incredible construction.