Things Are Looking Up With UFO Watch Tower

Shortly after her cattle business went bust, Judy Messoline looked to the heavens for salvation.

She had never thought much of flying saucers but knew that her San Luis Valley ranch sat in a region renowned for bizarre, unexplained phenomena. So Messoline erected what she believes is the world’s first UFO watchtower.

“I opened it as a tourist trap,” she acknowledged.

But it became bigger than that. Over the last four years she has seen self-described alien abductees, psychics, channelers and visitors from Pluto, Jupiter and points beyond come through her door.

The straight-talking rancher has learned to bite her tongue during these close encounters, occasionally of the third kind.

“Who am I to doubt?” she asked.

The last year has been her busiest yet. Thousands have pulled off Highway 17 near tiny Hooper in south-central Colorado to climb the tower and scan the skies over the craggy Sangre de Cristo Mountains.

People search for mysterious flying lights, soaring triangles or hovering balls of fire. Messoline, 59, shows documentaries of local UFO sightings and discusses assorted odd happenings in the 120-mile-long alpine valley that stretches into northern New Mexico.

The UFO WatchTower isn’t exactly towering. It’s a metal platform in the middle of the desert standing about 14 feet above a spaceship-shaped gift shop.

“I don’t know why more people are coming,” said Messoline, who doesn’t charge admission but accepts donations.

She’s taking advantage of the newfound popularity by holding a conference at the site next weekend with UFO experts from around the country. And she’s writing a book about her experiences here titled “That Crazy Lady Down the Road.”

There is certainly enough material.

“I had a guy come in and ask if I had a place to sign in,” she recalled. “I told him yes and he said, ‘No, do you have a place to sign in for us?’ and I said, ‘Where are you from?’ and he said, ‘Pluto.’ ”

A woman claiming to channel the thoughts of extraterrestrials rebuked Messoline because the aliens depicted in her shop all looked alike. She said the real space folks were annoyed that just one of their 157 races was represented. The channeler left after buying a rubber alien head for her car antenna.

Then there was the trucker who said he saw a bright light above the highway and later couldn’t account for three hours of his life.

“I told him to see a hypnotherapist,” Messoline said.

At an ethereal 7,600 feet above sea level, the San Luis Valley has always been a land of mystery, a place where the Wild West meets the Weird West. Early Native Americans claimed “ant people” lived underground here; other tribes talked about “star people”; and the Hopi believed all thought originated atop the valley’s towering Mt. Blanca.

There are stories of Bigfoot sightings, clandestine military installations, secret alien bases and vortexes leading to other dimensions. New Agers and those seeking spiritual enlightenment flock to towns such as nearby Crestone, where Buddhist prayer flags snap in the windy foothills of the Sangres.

“The San Luis Valley was the first area colonized by the Spanish in Colorado, and it’s just been sitting there for 400 years simmering in its own broth,” said David Perkins, a journalist who has written about the region for nearly 30 years. “It’s so isolated. It’s ringed by mountains and there are a lot of superstitions.”

Perkins said the mix of Indian, Spanish, Mexican and Catholic folklore might also make inhabitants predisposed to seeing certain things.

Leslie Varnicle, state director of the Colorado Mutual UFO Network, said the valley is an area of major military operations, full of low-flying, high-speed aircraft operating from bases in Colorado Springs.

“But that doesn’t explain similar sightings 50 years ago when we didn’t have that kind of technology,” she said. “This is one of the biggest hotspots in the country for unconventional flying objects.”

The valley’s history was relatively unknown to Messoline when she arrived from Golden in 1995 to start a new life after her divorce.

It wasn’t long before people asked if she had seen any UFOs.

Messoline hadn’t. She was too busy trying to keep her ranch afloat. But dwindling pasture eventually forced her to sell her cattle, leaving her with 640 acres of unused land.

“My friend said, ‘Why not put up a UFO watchtower?’ ” she recalled.

To her own amazement, she agreed.

After giggling her way through the permit process, Messoline had the tower built down the road from her house. She advertised with metal “aliens” along the highway. Soon after, she said, she saw her first UFO -- a narrow, glowing object sailing over the mountains.

Since then, she’s seen 19 more.

“You will see dots moving real fast. Then one will stop and the other will catch up,” said Messoline. “I have talked to military men and they say no planes can do that.”

Over the course of a recent day, about 75 people stopped in for a look.

“I won’t say UFOs don’t exist, but I haven’t seen any yet,” said Paul Orosz, 40, of Denver, looking toward the mountains. “A lot of what people see is very explainable by clouds or weather balloons.”

Rick Castellini, 38, of Grand Junction said he had a friend so in love with extraterrestrials that his wall clock showed the time on Mars.

“I think this valley is strange in any case,” he said. “It feels like time has stopped here.”

Bob Lancaster, 60, of Pueblo meandered around with his granddaughter.

“There could be something to this stuff,” he said. “There is nothing to disprove it. I had a friend who had one of his cows dissected. They drained all the blood; his tongue was taken out. It’s strange.”

Mysterious animal mutilations have a long history in the valley, starting with Snippy, a horse famously eviscerated in 1967. Some believe aliens are doing it; others say government agents testing for radiation are behind it. Police offer a more prosaic explanation: earthly animal predators.

As daylight waned over the tower, puffy clouds sailed past -- white at first, then orange and finally blood red with the glow of the setting sun. Distant lightning illuminated the sky.

A new group gathered to watch the heavens.

“I love clouds; clouds are so cool,” gushed Susie Noble, a Denver clerk who camps here every year, hoping to catch a glimpse of the unknown.

Noble, 50, showed off a model UFO she had built. It was made of a bundt cake pan with rubber aliens arrayed at the window and a little light blazing inside.

“It only took me a week,” she said.

Lisa Lough, 38, looked at the stars gathering above. She saw her first UFO as a kid in South Dakota.

“It was a bright light in the sky that flashed and then went away,” she said. “I came here hoping to see more.”

Many watchers have UFO stories and each one is treated uncritically.

“People come here because they are free to tell what they saw or what happened without fear of being laughed at,” Messoline said.

“Who knows if there are little green men? Some days I firmly believe, other days I have my doubts. My conclusion is, there is something very special about this place.”