There are a lot of decoy ghost towns around here.

See, I've had this dust-and-tumbleweed dream to happen upon a street lined with crumbling facades and hitching posts, and there I shall, I dunno, play cowboys or something. So I was psyched to find all sorts of guides to Utah ghost towns online and in print.

Well, I'm here to tell you: Don't believe everything you read.

One guide pointed me to Dry Fork Canyon near Vernal. There I found two ramshackle cabins -- surrounded by spankin' new mansions in a developing subdivision. The place was crawling with front-loaders.

Then there was Mercur, a once-booming mining town south of Tooele. I saw photos of old storefronts and mining buildings and thought to myself, "There. There I will live the dream."

The road was barricaded by a working mine that has reoccupied the old town site.

And then there was Ophir.

Tucked in a western canyon of the Oquirrhs, Ophir reputedly was a gem of a ghost town, with lots of old buildings in tact. I saw pictures of decaying houses, some barny-looking things and an awesome wooden town hall/firehouse.

Perfect.

I went out on a gray December day hoping to breathe the Old West of it all.

There was a light-up Santa on the town hall.

Next to it was the Ophir town council 2009 meeting schedule.

"What kind of ghost town is this?" I wailed. Sure, there were old buildings -- all adorned with "Keep Out" signs. There was some mining stuff, including an adit entrance with a Santa doll waving from behind a rusty cart of presents and candy canes.

But way above the inhabited not-ghost town, on the north wall of the canyon, I could see proper ruins peeking through the junipers.

The trails above Ophir are confusing. Many of them disappear into brush, and I did a lot of backtracking. Straying from the path is a bit risky on a steep mountain that's pocked with abandoned mines, and it's hard to tell what parts of the canyon are private. Between the extensive "Keep Out" signage and the prominently posted town ordinances vis-à-vis speed limits and quiet hours, you kind of get the idea that the residents of Ophir want you to play by their rules.

But damn, it's fun to explore. I found a couple of adits without Santas, old cart rails and a series of tram supports.

The crown jewel of Ophir canyon is near the top of Buckhorn Gulch, perched on a tailings pile: an old tramhouse with a partial wheel hanging from the stilts.

I absolutely do not recommend you go into the building or even get too close. Ophir is a look-don't-touch kind of place.

But the tramhouse is a very cool destination for a hike in a beautiful canyon of well-hidden ghosts.

Ophir town, alive and well, is also worth a peek.

Erin Alberty has more Utah adventures and musings on her blog, poorpenmanship.com.