Location: Albany County, WY Map
Bosler, Wyoming, is a fading relic of the American West, perched on the vast, windswept plains of Albany County. Often described as a "modern ghost town," it embodies the quiet decay of small frontier settlements that once thrived on railroads and highways but were left behind by progress. Located approximately 19 miles north of Laramie—the county seat—along the concurrent U.S. Routes 30 and 287 (which trace the historic Lincoln Highway), Bosler sits at an elevation of 7,080 feet (2,160 meters) beside the meandering Laramie River. This unincorporated community, with coordinates 41°34′34″N 105°41′43″W, is a stark contrast to the bustling energy of nearby Interstate 80, which bypassed it decades ago, sealing its fate as a shadow of its former self. Today, with only about 15 residents clinging to life amid the ruins, Bosler offers a haunting snapshot of rural America's boom-and-bust cycles, preserved by the arid, high-desert climate that slows the ravages of time.
Bosler's story is deeply intertwined with the cattle barons and
transportation networks that shaped Wyoming's settlement in the late
19th century. The town was named after Frank Bosler, a prominent cattle
rancher who owned the expansive Diamond Ranch—one of the largest in the
region during the early days of Wyoming's ranching empire. The Bosler
Ranch itself, originally held by the Bosler Brothers and later by Frank
C. Bosler in partnership with John Coble, served as a key operational
hub for cattle drives and shipping. This ranch was no ordinary spread;
it functioned as a "home-away-from-home" for the notorious frontiersman
and assassin Tom Horn, whose infamous career included rustling and
contract killings for cattlemen. Around 1904, however, the ranch faced
turmoil when a bitter dispute erupted between Bosler and Coble over
funds spent defending Horn against murder charges—Horn was ultimately
hanged in 1903 for killing a 14-year-old boy in a case that exposed the
violent underbelly of Wyoming's range wars. The fallout led to the
ranch's liquidation, marking an early chapter of instability.
The
town's formal founding came shortly after, in the early 1900s, as a
vital railroad shipping point for the Union Pacific's Overland Route.
Wool, cattle, and supplies flowed through Bosler, transforming it from a
mere ranch outpost into a burgeoning community. A post office was
established in 1908, providing a ZIP code (82051) that persists to this
day and symbolizing the town's stubborn endurance. By 1912, the arrival
of the Lincoln Highway—America's first transcontinental automobile
road—paralleled the railroad tracks, injecting new life into Bosler. It
evolved into a classic "roadtown," catering to motorists with gas
stations, diners, and lodging. The population swelled from around 75 in
the mid-1920s to a peak of 264 by 1940, supporting a vibrant array of
businesses: general stores, a newspaper, two public schools, a
cream-colored clapboard library, a motel, and even opportunities for
hunting and fishing that drew sportsmen to the surrounding plains.
Ambitious plans for growth included a massive 1908 real estate and
irrigation project spearheaded by investors Tallmadge and Buntin, who
acquired about 60,000 acres encompassing the Bosler and Oasis Ranches in
what was touted as Wyoming's largest land deal at the time. Canals were
dug to irrigate the arid lands, promising agricultural prosperity.
However, by 1912, the project collapsed due to bond defaults and water
shortages, forcing most settlers to abandon their claims and
accelerating the town's early vulnerabilities.
Bosler's golden era was short-lived, eroded by the inexorable shift from rail to road freight in the early 20th century. Trucks began hauling goods more efficiently than trains, diminishing the railroad's role. The death knell sounded in 1972 with the completion of Interstate 80, just a few miles south, which rerouted traffic and commerce away from the old highway. Travelers no longer stopped for fuel or rest; businesses shuttered one by one, and families migrated to Laramie or beyond for jobs and modern amenities. The post office briefly closed but reopened, a lone beacon in the emptiness. By the 1980s, Bosler was largely abandoned, its population plummeting to around 50 by 1990. A 2000 visit documented only three occupied homes, a goat dairy operation, and Doc's Western Village—a quirky antique and used-car shop run by a local character known as "Doc." The dry, cold climate at this high elevation has acted as a natural preservative, leaving behind a time capsule of rusted relics rather than utter disintegration.
Nestled in the northern Laramie Plains—an isolated expanse of
sagebrush-dotted grasslands—Bosler experiences a classic semi-arid
high-plains climate: hot, dry summers with occasional thunderstorms,
bitterly cold winters blanketed in snow, and relentless winds that
sculpt the landscape. The Laramie River provides a thin ribbon of green
amid the otherwise barren terrain, supporting sparse ranching but little
else. Served by Albany County School District #1, the area once had
robust education facilities, now reduced to echoes.
Today, Bosler
teeters on the edge of oblivion with its handful of residents living in
trailers and weathered homes. The townsite, much of it private property
owned by locals like Doc, features scattered ruins that evoke a sense of
suspended animation. Key landmarks include:
The Collapsed
Schoolhouse: A multi-colored, two-story brick structure from the early
20th century, now half-fallen with its playground littered with vintage
cars, vans, and farm equipment—a poignant symbol of interrupted
childhoods.
Doc's Store (Western Village): The sole surviving
business, a ramshackle emporium of scavenged furniture, antiques, and
used vehicles pulled from abandoned properties. Doc, whose real name is
elusive, is the town's unofficial guardian and storyteller.
The
Abandoned Motel and Library: A dilapidated roadside motel with sagging
roofs and the faded clapboard library stand as ghosts of hospitality and
knowledge, their windows dark and doors boarded.
The Post Office:
Miraculously operational, it serves the remaining residents and offers a
touch of normalcy amid the desolation.
Scattered Relics: Rusted
automobiles from the mid-20th century, faded highway signs, and the
occasional ranch outbuilding dot the landscape, preserved by the low
humidity.
The overall vibe is one of melancholic isolation, with
empty lots where general stores once buzzed and the distant hum of I-80
as a reminder of what was lost.
Bosler's lore is laced with romance and grit. It's immortalized in
the folk song "Bosler" by singer-songwriter Jalan Crossland, which
paints an idyllic picture of trailer-park life, children playing, and
simple joys— a stark, poetic counterpoint to the town's harsh reality.
The ranch's ties to Tom Horn add a layer of Wild West infamy, while the
failed irrigation scheme highlights the perils of overambitious frontier
development. Modern visitors might encounter Doc, who embodies the
resilient spirit of Wyoming's backcountry, trading tales for trinkets.
In popular culture, Bosler has been featured in ghost town guides,
photography exhibits, and even Reddit explorations by adventure riders,
cementing its status as a must-see for history buffs and urban
explorers. As of 2025, it remains a quiet testament to how
infrastructure can make or break a community, with no signs of revival
on the horizon.
Reaching Bosler is straightforward via 2WD-friendly U.S. 30/287 from Laramie—about a 25-minute drive north. Summer months (June to August) are ideal, when temperatures hover in the 70s-80s°F (21-27°C) and the arid air is crisp; winters can plunge below zero with snowdrifts. Respect private property—much of the town is off-limits, so stick to public roads and heed "No Trespassing" signs to avoid confrontations with locals. Stop at Doc's for souvenirs or stories, but pack water, snacks, and a full tank, as services are scarce. Photographers will find endless subjects in the decay, but the isolation demands caution—cell service is spotty, and winds can kick up dust storms. Bosler isn't a tourist trap; it's a raw, unfiltered piece of Wyoming history waiting to whisper its secrets to those who listen.
Well I write you this letter from my downtown apartment
Pray you
receive it before I am gone
Says I'm goin out West as soon as I'm
able
And I's kinda hopin you might come along
There's
somethin that's callin me when I am sleepin
Or locked in bathroom
at work gettin stoned
It tells me I'm lonesome and hard as I'm
tryin
This Emerald City don't feel like my home
I dream of a
trailer in Bosler Wyoming
With tires on the roof dear and you by
my side
We could watch Flintstones and draw unemployment
As I
dream of Bosler when I close my eyes
I picture you holdin
your Harlequin novel
Gettin baked like a pot pie in the afternoon
sun
While I fix the fan belt that goes to the engine
Of the
'69 Pinto that don't never run
And dirty faced children come
10 come 20
The fruit of our loins and the tubes we ain't tied
They play in the street and they don't ask for money
Cause in
Bosler Wyoming there ain't much to buy
I dream of a trailer
in Bosler Wyoming
With tires on the roof dear and you by my side
We can pitch horseshoes at stray cats on Sunday
As I dream of
Bosler when I close my eyes
And the wind may blow, the rain
may pitch
The TV may blare while the neighbors all bitch
We'll
have it made in the shade as we lay
on our hide away mattress
that lives in the couch
I dream of a trailer in Bosler
Wyoming
With tires on the roof dear and you by my side
We can
have hot wings and Bourbon for breakfast
And I dream of Bosler
when I close my eyes
I write you this letter from my lime
green apartment
I pray you receive it before I am gone
It says
I'm goin out west just as soon as I'm able
And I's kinda hoping
you might come along