Beautiful Bishop’s Castle - Medieval Castle in Cowboy Country
 
Colorado,  San Isabel National Forest – the heart of what many call Cowboy  Country. Yet stray of the beaten path and you come across Bishop castle –  a 160-foot high structure that weighs in at an estimated 50 thousand  tons. Incredibly, it is the work of a single man – Jim Bishop. Strangely  though, if you are a tourist to the state, you will not find a mention  of Bishop Castle on any official brochure.
That’s  a shame because the place is magnificent. You might be forgiven that  for believing that you had stumbled upon the home of the Colorado branch  of the Addams family or perhaps a set mock up for a Tolkien inspired  movie. With the wrought iron, dragon’s head and formidable masonry it  even has the look of a post apocalyptic stronghold for survivors. Yet it  is a family home.
The  castle, although a home, is open to the public all the year round. All  you have to do to visit it to sign a guest book, releasing Mr Bishop  from any liability if you plummet one hundred and sixty feet to the  ground or something falls on your head from a similar height. There is  no insurance at the castle – as it is effectively a working construction  site. Like many other castles of history, this one you enter at your  own peril. 
However,  you won’t be cast in to the dungeon or hang, drawn and quartered at the  baronic whim of Jim Bishop. A 90 minute drive away from Colorado  Springs, the castle is still in the process of construction and  donations are most welcome. It is certainly an ambitious project and  must have cost a great deal. It is made of local stone which Bishop  quarried from the adjoining national forest land (with permission).
The  castle is full of eye catching features. The extensive wrought iron  suspension bridges and walkways that grip its towers give it an air of  eccentricity and creeping functionality, of ideas tossed back and forth  and of a history that belies the fact that construction only started in  the last year of the 1960s.
Perhaps  the most noted feature is the dragon’s head which sits atop the castle.  You can imagine a medieval metal worker hammering the sheets of iron in  to this shape but it is in fact made from recycled hospital meal trays.  This wonderful feature has utility though – the smoke from the  fireplace comes out of the dragon’s nostrils.
The owner, Jim Bishop, had not  envisioned this structure from the get go, however. At the tender age of  fifteen he bought the land – not quite three acres – with the idea that  he would build a family cabin. Over forty years later the cabin has  grown somewhat – to the more than occasional chagrin of the local  authorities.
However, it is easy to imagine the  glee that many visitors (if not the Bishop family themselves) feel when  they catch sight of the castle for the first time. It is like the  adventure playground that should have been built in your neighborhood in  your youth. To say that there is plenty of clamber space is one of  life’s great understatements.
The interior is something else  too. Stained glass gives the heart of the castle a warm glow. If a state  displaced Dorothy was visiting she would surely know that she wasn’t in  Colorado anymore. The light which cascades in to the castle through its  enormous windows, many of which are stained, bathes it in the kind of  light you might associate more with cathedrals than with castles.
Mr Bishop is well known in the nearby  town of Pueblo as, to put it mildly, something of an anti-government  eccentric. Yet while some construct bunkers (which frankly shows a lack  of imagination), Jim Bishop has built a castle. Although his father  helped for the first year or so of the project, since then it has been  his hands alone which have shaped the place.
Zoning laws have meant that Mr  Bishop and the State of Colorado have not always seen eye to eye. This  is the major reason that the castle does not feature in any travel  brochures for the area – and the unease between man and government can  be seen on many displays at the castle.
 
 


 
 
 
 








 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
