Hotel Columbia finds new life in Ward

The first time Masyn Moyer and Gurjeet Gill visited Ward’s last surviving hotel, rain was seeping through the back wall. Built of rock more than a century before, water was forcing its way through the cracks, forming a stream that soaked the discolored carpet.

Gill and Moyer were not deterred. The pair closed on the property, known as Hotel Columbia, on Oct. 7, 2024. They’ve been working diligently ever since — hauling out the moldy carpet, rebuilding rain-soaked walls and mending whatever breaks — to restore the 1901 building for use as a hotel, cafe and event space.

Now, after 18 months, brass beds are once again in the seven upstairs rooms. A Viking range stands in the kitchen. Permits needed to serve food and guests were approved last month, the last step before the hotel is ready to welcome the public to lodge and dine for the first time since 1950.

“Being able to restore it and share it has been, quite frankly, an honor,” Moyer says. “ We have the opportunity here to really boast about the town and show people the history up here on the Peak to Peak.”

A place to unplug

The vibe inside Hotel Columbia is one of curated coziness, filled with furniture from every decade of the past 150 years. Splashes of color and whimsy pop amid the rustic wood and corrugated tin: teal and blue and red in the kitchen, two hopscotch grids painted on the parlor floor. Crooked walls and ceilings add to the quirky quality — not a single corner in the entire building forms a right angle. There are plants everywhere. 

Everything is secondhand, sourced from Facebook Marketplace or independent artists and vendors. Every piece of decor has a story: the chimney booth from the 1800s handed down through multiple generations; a 5,000-pound upright piano from a woman who lives on a dirt road in Nederland; a red couch-and-chair set gifted to a couple, married 50-plus years, as a wedding present, the price tags still attached.

With no televisions, limited cell service and only one bathroom — for now; the pair plans to build two more this summer — Moyer and Gill plan to cater to a quiet, contemplative crowd. Each of the seven bedrooms come equipped with wooden writing desks; a sauna and hot tub are being built outside. The proprietors are even debating turning off the WiFi when guests arrive.

“I want to do writing retreats here, and I want people to sit and read and write,” Moyer says. “I want people to walk, come back, eat breakfast, maybe soak in the hot tub, and sleep.”

Once open, the cafe’s dishes will be hearty and healthy. Gunny-sack lunches will be crafted for day hikers and (hopefully) returned for credit on the next order. 

The menu is meant to complement, not compete, with Ward’s other offerings: “the best” espresso and sandwiches at the general store, and Italian cuisine at Marrocco’s Family Dining, open seasonally. Gill recommends the artichoke dip and pizza.

Women of the Divide

One of the epicenters of Colorado’s Gold Rush and a stop on the long-defunct railway, Ward was once home to five hotels. A January 1900 fire wiped out 50 buildings: Hotel Columbia was built later the following year to shore up the lost lodging. 

Its history is as rich as the town it served was during the heyday of mining. Teddy Roosevelt is believed to have stopped there during his 1905 tour of Colorado. Artist Georgia O’Keefe may have visited, too: The artist stayed in a cabin near Ward and immortalized the town in her 1917 painting, Church Bell, Ward, Colorado.

Emma Fairhurst owned and operated the hotel with her husband, Albert, until her death on March 30, 1950. During WWII, the town’s population dwindled to just four residents. Fairhurst’s niece, Hazel Schmoll, was one of them. After Fairhurst’s death, Schmoll took over ownership of the hotel.

Photos of Fairhurst and Schmoll are in a place of honor on top of an 1800s-era upright piano, and books about other significant women from the area fill the shelves of the library. 

“We always talk about the mountain, the miners and the men,” Moyer says. “I think people would be shocked by the contribution women have had on this divide.” 

In true mountain woman fashion, Moyer and Gill have done most of the work on Hotel Columbia themselves, investing their own money in its restoration. The deteriorated state of the building made it difficult to secure a traditional loan. Moyer and Gill worked out a special agreement with the previous owner; they have until Oct. 7 to get the property in good enough condition that it qualifies for financing. 

It was a “risky” move, Moyer said, “but we had a vision and believed we could make it happen.”

The pair are experienced businesswomen, with a string of operations under their respective belts. Moyer currently owns Mylk House, a hair salon. Gill recently sold beloved South Boulder restaurant Tandoori Grill. 

Neither of those ventures quite prepared them for their first winter as hoteliers — a “Pandora’s box” of emergencies, says Moyer, who lived on-site for months without functioning heat or running water.

The property suffered a broken water line in January 2025. Copper pipes needed reinstalled, sodden subfloors pulled out and replaced. Two days after the water was finally running again, the septic line froze. Workmen wouldn’t come out to Ward, so Moyer found herself out in the yard with a pickaxe. 

“ I had to YouTube, ‘How do you install a septic line? What's the elevation of a septic line? Where should I start my septic line?’”

Preservation without exploitation

There’s more grind ahead of them, including re-creating a boardwalk and deck on the front of the hotel, replacing single-pane and plexiglass windows and restoring the facade to its original condition. Moyer estimates they’re only about “one-third” of the way done with renovations.

Even before the physical labor, Moyer worked to integrate herself into Ward, attending town meetings for a full year before putting in an offer on the property. “It was important to know the town, know the people, and get a feel for whether or not our idea of what we wanted to do here would work,” she says.

This past July 4, Hotel Columbia welcomed locals with a pig roast. The family reunion-like atmosphere left a lasting impression.

“What we heard for weeks, if not months afterwards, was how much everybody appreciated it and the fact that they saw people they hadn't seen in a long time,” Moyer recalls. “ There's people that have lived in this town that have never been through here, because it was kind of closed off.”

Standing in front of the hotel’s massive iron ore fireplace — built in 1921 and, rumor has it, flecked with millions of dollars in raw gold — Moyer and Gill reflect on their own place in Ward’s past and future. With every ripped-up floorboard and swipe of a paintbrush, one question runs through Moyer’s mind, she says: “How do you preserve history without ruining it?”

“I affectionately say that Ward is populated by a bunch of people who wanna be left alone that happen to live next to each other,” she says. “Rightfully so, they've wanted to protect Ward from all the change and the commercialism and capitalism we've seen with every other mountain town.” 

“Ward is the last bastion of true grit and independence.  Sharing that without exploiting it is super important. To be able to protect, preserve and share this historic town’s rich history in a county, state, and country that has already lost or given up so much of it, would be the ultimate legacy.”