It all started with a Moscow Mule. That ever-refreshing combination of vodka, gingerbeer and lime that can lower your body temperature a few degrees even on the hottest day.
 |
| Denver at dusk |
As I sipped the cocktail from a traditional copper mug, I had no idea that my night would come to include wandering through underground tunnels, standing in a Gold Rush era vault and searching for the ghost of a saloon girl. Typical Wednesday night in Denver, Colorado apparently.
After a great dinner at Stueben’s, my Denver-dwelling friends suggested that we take the 16th Street tram to LoDo (Lower Downtown for us outsiders) and grab a drink at Blake Street Vault; a local favorite known for getting rowdy and slinging the best Moscow Mules in town.
It wasn’t a hard sell; I’d been a fan of the beverage for some time and I wholly believe that following the lead of a local will always steer you towards a good time. So off we went.
Blake Street, built in 1863, was one of the first brick structures in all of Denver and while the building has served many purposes over the years, it’s always been a bar/saloon/house of ill-repute. 145 years of debauchery? Pretty impressive.
 |
| Photo via Blake Street Vault |
The exposed brick walls (much of it original), tin tiled ceiling, dimly lit booths and rustic coppertop bar make it easy to picture yourself in the Wild West.
Only a few sips into our Mules, we noticed a group of people descending a staircase next to the bar. Instantly, my curiosity was peaked and before putting any thought into it, I jumped up and made for the stairs.
The group was actually a tour of sorts and the stairs we descended led us below the building to a series of jaggedly cut tunnels. These tunnels were originally used to transport coal around the city, but quickly became a favorite, discreet thoroughfare for brothel-goers.
At the end of the main tunnel (which has been updated for structural reasons) we came upon a large steel vault. A giant vault, in a bar? Sure the place is called ‘Blake Street Vault,’ but I figured the name was, well, just a name.
Nope. Turns out, the building was a major distribution center for alcohol and tobacco products, so not only did they house some pretty sought-after merchandise, but they also stored hefty sums of cash. Okay, in that case, a vault makes perfect sense.
The hulking steel door would have been deterrent enough for me not to try and rob the place, but it wasn’t enough for some enterprising (and thirsty) thieves. Plenty a crook tried to break into the vault and make it rich quick.
And plenty a crook was sorely disappointed. Until very recently, the vault could only be accessed by a trap door; once someone got down to basement level it was hard to get out, but easy to get locked in the vault.
Clearly people panicked at being unexpectedly sealed-in in a room made of concrete and steel; just check out the human scratch marks on the inside walls and ceiling.
Talk about a grim sight.
But Blake Street Vault had even more lore to dish up. Shortly after opening it doors, a saloon girl named Lydia fell to her death from the indoor second story balcony. It’s believed that her ghost now haunts the bar.
Naturally, our tour guide had seen her several times, although my efforts to spot her were unsuccessful. But many patrons and bartenders over the years have reported seeing the figure of a woman sitting in one of the booths in the bar and guarding the stairs that lead to the basement vault.
Queue erie music…
Believer or not, its undeniable that Blake Street Vault has a whole lot going on and is far more than your typical bar. Go for the Mules, but stay for the unknown!
 |
| Blake Street Vault has taken the Mule international! |
Wow! I’m sorry to have missed this particular adventure while in Denver 🙁 Great meeting you at TBEX!
It was definitely an unexpected pit-stop for me! Great meeting you too!