The Ghost Town of Rowley

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The fastest way to get to Rowley is 5 left turns and 3 right turns. Google maps estimates the trip at 1 hour and 58 minutes but traveling at about 10 km over the speed limit Darin and I make it in about 1 hour and 50.

At 3 miles and two right turns away Darin points out the window and says, “There it is!” Two rust red grain elevators sit along the train tracks, across the grain field, practically waving us in. The car fishtails down a gravel road and Darin and I stop at the “Welcome to Rowley” sign to fire up his drone.

I knew going that it was unlikely to be haunted. I didn’t bother trying to do EVP sessions or set up cameras or go when it’s dark (because ghosts only come out when it’s dark, right?) I went because it’s a ghost town, a little slice of Alberta’s history that the few people who still live there are desperate to keep relevant, funded by government grants and monthly pizza nights hosted by the one local business, Sam’s Saloon.

Rowley Trading Post and Sam’s Saloon on the Main Street of Rowley

Darin and I shared the town with four other photographers who were wandering around and doing exactly the same thing we were. Two of the townspeople were out on their back porch having a cigarette. The crickets, seemingly millions of them, chirped away, the largest population around, but somehow making it seem even emptier.

The one thing that was pretty peculiar was the sound of a large vacuum. To this day we have no idea what the noise was exactly, but our best guess was a giant shop vac or a UFO or something.

If Rowley wasn’t a tourist attraction, you’d never know it’s there. It sits 30 minutes north of Drumheller, which pretty much means the middle of nowhere. And it’s the middle of nowhere for one hour and 20 minutes of the drive there. Flat farmland. It spans a whole two blocks with one main road and another smaller road that winds around the school, an old livery, and private properties.

Camping is allowed, with empty grass fields behind the school and town hall. One seemingly occupied trailer was directly behind the school but I never saw anyone go in or out.

I took video of all the hot spots. The saloon, the old bank, the train station, the school, the big ass grain elevators, the inside of a gutted train car. The insides of the buildings are themeless, cluttered with old relics (and some not so-old relics). It’s clear that there isn’t a budget or a great desire to preserve the inside as they used to look. It’s kind of like a collection of old tchotchkes in an unorganized garage. A giant printing press sat in the old news office, the front window busted and mold growing all over the floor. The preservation is mediocre at best, a clear sign that the town does its best to keep its head above water.

I’m making the place sound like a dump, but it is actually quite cute. It’s just not fancy.

I know I want to make ghost videos, but with COVID, and a lack of funding, I haven’t known where to start. This trip seemed accessible. It only required gas to get there and snacks and Buble for Darin. I have an idea of how I want my videos to look, but need to try things out first, get my feet wet. I’ve been putting off editing the video because I’m afraid it won’t be any good, that it will be void of interest and I’ll feel discouraged and never make a video again.

I set my camera up in front of every interesting looking building in town and let it roll for 10-20 seconds. And Darin captured some pretty stunning drone footage for me. Hopefully there’s enough footage to create a compelling voice over and tell a little story about old Rowley. Hopefully it’s pretty. Hopefully you want to watch it.

I asked Darin to do a bit with me where we sit at one of the picnic tables, eat our snacks and drink our Buble, and debate the existence of ghosts. The camera sat off to our right (well, my right, his left) as we pondered things like how ghosts could be the result of a lapse in time, and the explanation of how ghosts are energy so can energy remain conscious outside of the human body? Darin has a philosophical and poignant perspective that I do not have. We agreed on so many ideas, having wondered them separately before exploring them across a picnic table together, but he was able to articulate things in a way I’ve been dying to. I’m so glad I brought him, and hope he’ll do more ghost hunting with me.

If there are ghosts, they are quiet. They are hiding, stirring much less than all the cats that inhabit the town (a cat house sits out back of the funeral home, the smell of urine creating a two foot aura around the outside). I wouldn’t be at all spooked to stay the night in Rowley, either on a campground or in one of the buildings. I’d be very alone. Just me and some cats, which actually, doesn’t sound too bad at all.

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