The best part? The entire thing was built by Jim Bishop himself, with occasional help from his family and friends. You can feel the guy energy in every stairwell. It’s not polished like a Disney castle. Some steps are uneven. Some windows are slightly crooked. It feels real because it is real.
You’ll walk up a spiraling staircase and think, “This is a little sketchy.” Then you remember it was built by one man without a blueprint on a weekend. Suddenly, the sketchiness becomes part of the charm. It’s like riding in a car your buddy built himself—terrifying, but also incredibly impressive.
There are signs everywhere thanking Jim and asking you not to sue him. It’s the most honest castle you’ll ever visit. No velvet ropes. No “no touching” signs. Just you, a rickety staircase, and the quiet realization that you are trust—literally—in one man’s handiwork.
The Dragon (And Other Family Drama)
Let’s talk about the dragon. There’s a massive, rusty metal dragon perched on the roof, breathing red-tinted fire during special events. It looks like it escaped from a heavy metal album cover and decided to settle down in the Rockies. It’s equal parts terrifying and goofy.
Jim Bishop's family plans to continue building historic Bishop Castle
You can climb all the way to the top of the central tower. The view is absolutely stunning—pine trees, mountains, and clouds. But the whole time, you’re walking on a metal grate floor that vibrates when the wind blows. My knees literally said, “We are too old for this.” But my soul said, “This is the most fun you’ve had in years.”
The story gets even funnier. Jim Bishop had a nasty feud with the local government. They tried to shut him down for safety reasons. His response? He built a glass bridge with a sign that basically says, “Try and stop me.” It’s the ultimate middle finger to bureaucracy, and you get to walk on it.
