🚚 Free Worldwide Shipping on All Orders!Shop Now
San Juan Range Hat
HomeStore

San Juan Range Hat

San Juan Range Hat

High in rugged, Southwestern Colorado the mineralized slopes of the San Juans have lured fortune seekers and adventurers alike. Boom and bust mining towns popped up all along the hills and valleys: Ouray, Telluride, Silverton, Creede. Today, decrepit wood and ghost stories are all that remain of the saloons and the salty miners that toiled the land. Load up the mountain bikes for an epic single-track shred through the high alpine tundra, but while you’re sharing a glass of whiskey in the hut later that night... don’t let the embers die. We hear the ghost of ol’ Curly Jefferson has been spotted haunting the hills, and he has a hankering for bikers.


$32.00
San Juan Range Hat—
$32.00

More Images

San Juan Range Hat - Image 2

San Juan Range Hat

High in rugged, Southwestern Colorado the mineralized slopes of the San Juans have lured fortune seekers and adventurers alike. Boom and bust mining towns popped up all along the hills and valleys: Ouray, Telluride, Silverton, Creede. Today, decrepit wood and ghost stories are all that remain of the saloons and the salty miners that toiled the land. Load up the mountain bikes for an epic single-track shred through the high alpine tundra, but while you’re sharing a glass of whiskey in the hut later that night... don’t let the embers die. We hear the ghost of ol’ Curly Jefferson has been spotted haunting the hills, and he has a hankering for bikers.


Product Information

Shipping & Returns

Description

High in rugged, Southwestern Colorado the mineralized slopes of the San Juans have lured fortune seekers and adventurers alike. Boom and bust mining towns popped up all along the hills and valleys: Ouray, Telluride, Silverton, Creede. Today, decrepit wood and ghost stories are all that remain of the saloons and the salty miners that toiled the land. Load up the mountain bikes for an epic single-track shred through the high alpine tundra, but while you’re sharing a glass of whiskey in the hut later that night... don’t let the embers die. We hear the ghost of ol’ Curly Jefferson has been spotted haunting the hills, and he has a hankering for bikers.