The Three Portals of Hell

The Riverside Hotel, whose construction date is officially noted as 1903, is comprised of four sections, two original structures and two later additions, which have been morphed into the seamless white façade of its current iteration. We had pictures hanging in our lobby that showed the progression of the buildings architecture, starting with what we believed to be the first 1903 picture, which shows a six window, two-story clapboard structure with a large “HOTEL” and “CAFÉ” painted on the front, adjoined with a turreted building which housed a livery stable. There are pictures of the stable that date back to 1870, and while the two buildings literally shared a wall in 1903, there was no congress between them. Picture #2 is from approximately 1915 with the livery façade still evident, but the two buildings made to look as one with the use of a faux brick, tar-paper façade. The next picture was taken in the 1920’s, and the turreted roof line of the livery stable – you’ve seen this roof line in pictures of old western towns, as it denoted a stable as a steeple denoted a church – was replaced with a straight ridge line across the entire front of the hotel, making it look for the first time in it’s 20 year existence as one building. Finally, the fourth picture, taken in the 1930’s, shows the hotel with the edition of the West wing, a 15’ widening that ran the length of the hotel, adding four rooms upstairs, and doubling the downstairs dining room and kitchen. The fourth and final addition, the single story River Room restaurant, was built onto the western side, or river side, of the hotel in the early 1970’s. It is the only part of the building that has foundation and structural problems.

One of the things I loved about these pictures was the fun in dating them by the type of transportation that was parked in front of the hotel. In the 1903 picture there were horses and a hitching post; in 1915, horse-drawn carriages along with a 1910 Model T Ford. The 1920s-era picture showed no signs of hitching posts, with equine power being replaced by a fancy sedan of unknown make and model. Finally, the 1930’s brought us a regal awning spanning the front of the hotel, offering afternoon shade to a sporty, 1932 Ford Coupe. These pictures were all taken in the summer, as traversing Berthoud Pass in a 1932 Ford Coupe during the winter would have been impossible; much as it can be today, even in a 2003 4WD Chevy Suburban.

It was often while viewing these pictures that our guests would have their feeling of awakening to the history that engulfed them as the stood in the lobby of The Riverside – you could figuratively see the light go on in their head, as their eyes would widen and a smile would break the plane of their face. It is a feeling you don’t often get anywhere else as we live our daily lives in the cities and suburbs of America, and it was certainly one of the feelings that brought us and our dreams to live in Grand County, in this magnificent building.

Each of the three sections of the building built before 1935 have their own separate foundation, constructed of native stone of irregular size and shape and tightly cemented together. It is as stout today as it was when it was built 100+ years ago. Each foundation also contains a crawl space, differing in size and depth, with the first construction under the stable literally being a ‘crawl space’ as the distance from bare dirt to the floor above is but 3’ in height. The crawl space of the middle structure, which housed the hotel lobby, café and 8 upstairs guest rooms and living quarters, is deep enough in the front end of the building to allow a person to stand almost upright, narrowing in depth as you move towards the back of the hotel. The third section of building, the 1930’s addition, has a real-life, honest-to-God basement, with poured concrete floors and enough head space to walk upright, assuming you’re me and not Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.

In August of 2007, before purchasing the hotel, I visited the Riverside to meet with Tim, the man who was hired to perform the mechanical inspection. After learning that the roof needed to be replaced, the kitchen didn’t meet all of the state health requirements, and a host of other things that would have sent an intelligent person back to Kansas with a pocket full of cash, searching for a new dream, Tim suggested we go down into the crawl spaces.

“Crawl spaces? Why do we have to go down in the crawl spaces? I really don’t need to see the crawl spaces” I whined.

Tim had shown me the exposed foundations while we toured the outside of the building, demonstrating – I think he pounded his clenched fist against them – how sturdily and solid the foundations were constructed. That was good enough for me; I didn’t need to see them from the inside of a dark, mysterious, possibly big hairy spider-containing crawl space.

Tim said “I’ve got to show you where all of the mechanical stuff is – the water main, the grease trap, the sewage main, the sump pit…..”

It was at this point that I really should have allowed myself to be beaten to death by an army of do-it-yourselfers bearing red flags. Grease traps, sump pits and sewage lines in a subterranean spider farm – and I was interested in owning this place???

The first space we entered – an outside entrance from the rear of the hotel - was the newest of the three, the one where you can stand upright. I entered cautiously, and no big deal, as it was well lit, spider-less and it looked as if someone had actually attempted to turn it into a living space by portioning off rooms and paneling the walls and ceilings with dog-eared, cedar 1x4 fence slats. This space was important as it contained the two relatively new 200-gallon hot water boilers. The current owner had them installed when he purchased the hotel in 1980, replacing the coal fired boiler that sat dormant, a permanent unmovable behemoth, in one of the little rooms. I didn’t think to notice at the time that in the event the boilers needed to be dealt with in the winter – you know, that time of the year in Hot Sulphur where it’s extremely cold, there’s 30 feet of snow piled in the back of the hotel, and the need for hot water in your shower really takes on a whole new dimension – that there was no way you could access this basement to fix those boilers without blasting caps and a Caterpillar tractor, as there was no entrance from the hotel above.

The back of the space contained an un-paneled storage area that was filled with old bed frames, mattresses, desks, chairs, doors….quite an assortment of old junk and furnishings not fit for the current hotel. If you saw what was at that time actually in the Abe-owned hotel, you could only imagine what lay fallow in the space below. The term ‘worthless junk’ has never found a more suited partner.

On to crawl space #2, this located under the original main building. There were two entrances to this space, which actually had a dividing wall, making two separate crawl spaces under the one structure – I didn’t have to pay any extra for this feature. I helped the inspector lift a 3’x5’, seemingly 200 lb. trapdoor from the floor in the back of the kitchen. It was very dark, and the cold air and dank moldy smell attacked us as we peered into the space below.

“Looks good to me!” I said.

“No” Tim replied, “I’ve got to show you where the main kitchen drain runs into the grease trap. You’re going to have to clean that grease trap fairly regularly to keep your lines from clogging.”

This is sort of like when the professor says to the students in medical school “you’re going to have to put this rubber glove on and stick your finger in…”, and the prospective Internist quickly switches over to Radiology. But no, more fool me; I forged ahead, bought the hotel and kept my appointment with that grease trap.

On to the next crawl space; this was accessed through a trap door on hinges located in the main lobby floor, just outside of the public Men’s & Women’s restrooms. This crawl space was approximately 5’ in height at its entry point, and sloped down a little towards the front of the building, enough so that you could all but stand upright. Standing upright would come in handy if it was ever necessary to unclog the main sewer line with a high-pressure sewer line jetter; it was ultimately necessary.

This space also contained the main water shut offs, which a person would have to quickly access and shut off in the event an old pipe burst, or a toilet got jammed up and overflowed; those events ultimately occurred.

Finally, on we went to the last crawl space, this one under the original stable; this one, the very shallow, literal crawl space.

Tim told me, as he struggled to lift the trap door, “There really isn’t much under here, except for water pipes and electrical conduit. No mains, no valves, breakers or shut offs. Not sure there’s really anything to show you. ”

“Great”, I smiled, “I’ll defer to your higher knowledge of crawl space amenities and pass on this one.”

I never did go into this creepiest of crawl spaces, but it wasn’t long before someone did.

To be continued………