In June 2018, Imogene Owen, a 33-year-old architect from Denver, set out on a solo hike in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado. She planned to hike part of the Colorado Trail and return in five days. On June 22nd at 07:45, cameras at the Sunrise Fuel Gas Station in Silverton captured Imogene buying gas for her burner, a map of the area, and several bars.
At 09:10, her blue Toyota 4Runner SUV was seen parked at the trailhead near the Molas Pass. She left a note in the visitor’s log: “Return on Tuesday.” No one has seen her alive since.
Four years later, on September 19th, 2022, a group of geology students from the University of Colorado, while conducting field research in a remote area of La Plata County, noticed a thin smoke and a makeshift structure in the forest near an abandoned quarry using a drone. When the county sheriff arrived, an emaciated woman with a pale face and unnaturally stretched lips stood in the doorway of the hut. She did not respond to the call, only repeated one phrase: “He is building a temple. We are the foundation.” Fingerprint identification confirmed that the woman was Imogene Owen, who had gone missing four years earlier.
In the early days of summer 2018, the town of Silverton, usually quiet and sleepy after the ski season, began to prepare for the influx of tourists. Among them was Imogene Owen. A few days before her departure, she wrote to her sister that she wanted to “clear my head of city noise and finally hike the part of the Colorado Trail she had been dreaming of since her university days.”
She chose a section near Silverton, the highest, wildest, and in her words, “least touched by civilization.” According to the owner of the Prospector’s Lodge where Imogene stayed the night before the hike, she looked confident and well prepared. She had a new backpack, a mountaineering GPS, a map of the area, and a satellite phone to communicate in areas without coverage.
“She didn’t look like an amateur,” he said in his testimony, “someone who knew what she was doing.”
That evening, she ordered dinner at a local coffee shop, Miner’s Rest, and had a long conversation with the barista about the old mining routes. The barista recalled that she was interested in the road to Anderson Peak and wrote something down in a notebook. The next morning, June 22, she left Silverton around 7:00 a.m. At the Sunrise Fuel Station, she purchased gas for her burner, energy bars, and a bottle of water. A camera near the cash register captured her paying cash, smiling at the clerk, and walking toward her car.
An hour and a half later, her Toyota 4Runner was found parked at the trailhead near Molasses Pass. The visitor log below her signature read: “Return Tuesday.” According to weather reports, the weather was clear and hot that week. Tour groups in the Anderson Peak area did not report any emergencies. Only one couple from New Mexico mentioned in an interview with police that they heard a scream that could have been a human on Sunday night, but then thought it was a fox or cougar.
When Imogene didn’t get in touch on the day in question, her sister initially assumed it was a weather delay or a technical malfunction. The next morning, after receiving no signal, she called the San Juan County Sheriff’s Department. The missing person report came in at 8:45 a.m. Two hours later, an official search operation was launched. It involved local rescuers, volunteers, and three dog handlers. A helicopter flew over the area from Molas Pass to the old quarry to the west, but found no trace of the woman.
According to one of the rescuers, the dogs picked up a trail near the parking lot and followed it to a rocky area about a mile off the road. There, the smell disappeared. Excavations yielded nothing, only a few old metal fragments, possibly from hiking equipment. On the fourth day of the search, thunderstorms began. Streams of water washed away fresh tracks, making further work impossible. The sheriff’s report stated that no visible signs of a struggle, fall, or blood were found. Her belongings remained in the car: her wallet, phone, and documents. Everything looked as if she had simply walked down the path and disappeared.
The official version sounded restrained at first: a possible accident. However, there were rumors among the rescuers about the possibility of an outsider’s interference. One of them later told reporters that they had seen an old truck left on the side of the road nearby, although the owner was never identified. The police found no evidence of a crime, and the case gradually lost its priority. At the end of June, the search was officially called off. The report stated: “The trail broke off on an open stretch of rocky slope. The subject’s location is unknown.”
Imogene Owen’s name was added to the Colorado Missing Persons Registry. Her sister continued her own search for several months, posting signs on the roads between Silverton and Durango, but to no avail. So, the disappearance, which at first seemed like a typical story of a bad hike, turned into one of the most mysterious cases in the San Juan Mountains. No witnesses, no explanation, not even a hint of where the woman who left behind only a short message could have gone: “The weather is perfect. Be in touch in 4 days. Don’t worry.”
In September of 2022, a group of geology students from the University of Colorado were conducting field research in the La Plata area. Professor David Grant had official permission to explore the territory of the old quarry known as Gracevale Enterprises. According to archival documents, the mine was closed in the ’80s due to a landslide that blocked the main entrance. Since then, the site has been gradually overgrown with forest and was considered unsuitable for visitors.
The students were tasked with creating an updated geological map of the area, including using drones and laser scanning. According to the official report, the team arrived at the site on September 19th around noon. It was there that one of the students, Ethan Moore, launched a drone to survey the slopes. A few minutes later, he noticed a heat spot on the screen that was different from the temperature of the surrounding rocks. As the drone approached, the camera captured a thin streak of smoke rising from the trees. The footage showed a small structure made of fragments of boards, tarpaulins, and metal sheets. One of the students said that it looked like a hunting shelter or an old gatehouse. A few minutes later, the drone’s camera captured something that silenced everyone: a face appeared in the window.
Grant reported the discovery to the La Plata County Sheriff. At 16:22, two patrol cars and a rescuer with a search dog arrived at the scene. The door of the hut opened without resistance. The woman standing on the threshold looked exhausted. Her hair was long, graying, and tousled. Her face was pale and covered with small scratches. She was wearing homemade clothes made of scraps of fabric and thin leather. She did not answer questions, just looked straight ahead as if she did not see the people in front of her.
One of the policemen, Sergeant Lindsey, tried to ask her if she needed help, but instead of an answer, he heard a quiet, unintelligible mumble. The rescuers’ report states that she uttered one phrase, repeating it twice: “He is building a temple. We are the foundation.”
Inside the hut, they found several primitive objects: a tin can converted into a burner, a stone knife, a bowl of dried berries, and a pile of dirty rags that served as a bed. On the wall was a crudely made wooden cross tied with rope. Next to it were strange drawings made with charcoal: circles, triangles, and sketchy human figures. After examination, doctors recorded severe exhaustion, dehydration, and numerous old scars. It turned out she was 33-year-old Imogene Owen.
The place where she was found was not a well-known tourist route. To get there, you had to walk more than 6 miles through dense forest with no marked trail. The night after the rescue, Imogene was taken to a hospital in Durango. She did not recognize her name, did not answer questions about her family, and occasionally fell into a state of catatonic immobility. The psychiatrist described her as a person in between a state of fear and ecstasy.
One of the witnesses, student Lisa Green, later told reporters: “We thought it was just another remnant of a mining camp, but when the drone showed a face, it seemed to me that it wasn’t looking at us, it was looking through us.”
Among the materials found in the hut were a piece of tarpaulin with symbols similar to construction plans. Imogene was in a state of extreme emaciation; her weight was less than half of the average norm. She could stand up abruptly, as if waking up, and run her finger along the wall, forming a repeating pyramid-like shape.
According to official reports, Imogene’s sister, Hannah Owen, arrived at the hospital the next morning. According to Hannah: “She looked right through me, as if she didn’t see me at all. I told her who I was, but she didn’t react.”
The detective assigned to the case, Marcus Rhodes, visited the patient. During the first encounter, she sat in bed, wrapped in a blanket, and repeated: “He is building a temple. We are the foundation.”
There were dozens of small scars on her body, most of them healed, some inflicted by a sharp object. According to the forensic expert, the injuries were systematic, but not fatal, aimed at keeping her in line. Imogene often took a pencil or pen and drew repeating patterns: stairs, pyramids, circles. Detective Rhodes wrote that the patient showed signs of deep psychological dependence, typical of victims of religious or ideological influence.
Inside a wooden box buried near the hut were smooth, polished stones and small animal bones arranged by size. The detective suggested that the box might have had ritual significance: “The arrangement of the items and their systematic nature indicate a purposeful action. This is not just a collection of small things for everyday life, but an act with symbolic meaning.”
A few days after her hospitalization, Imogen began to follow people entering the room with her eyes. When asked to draw what she remembered, the same shape reappeared: a pyramid with a short line under it, like a base. One of the specialists noted: “She hasn’t lost control of her motor skills. Her movements are precise and balanced. This is not madness, this is something deliberate.”
In early October 2022, Detective Marcus Rhodes returned to Silverton. At the San Juan Outfitters, the owner, Edgar Trill, remembered Imogene. He said she was served by his young employee, a quiet man named Elijah. Shortly after Imogene’s disappearance, he suddenly quit his job. A query in the registry confirmed: Elijah Stone, 30 years old, lived in Silverton until the summer of 2018, after which he disappeared without a trace.
Examination of samples from the hut revealed fingerprints that did not belong to Imogene. A comparison with the database yielded a match: Elijah Stone. This was the first evidence of his presence at the woman’s place of detention. Rhodes then began searching for Stone. The last trace was a rental of a small house on the outskirts of Silverton. The landlord recalled that the tenant had paid the rent in advance and left, leaving only a broken compass and an old tent frame.
In November of 2022, the investigation officially came under the jurisdiction of the FBI. Imogene began to respond to treatment. In between blackouts, she uttered fragmentary words: “Elijah’s brother, the last altar, cross in stone.”
One of the FBI agents recognized a sign she drew from an old photograph in a local newspaper. The article was about a small religious community called the Light of the East, founded by a preacher named Caleb Stone. He proclaimed purification through work. One of the notes from the funeral ceremony mentioned the preacher’s younger brother, Elijah Stone.
Elijah, according to former community members, had a fanatical devotion to his brother. One witness said: “Caleb thought he was a prophet, but Elijah looked at him as a god. He said that his brother would leave him a plan, blueprints for a temple to be completed.”
The agents checked Stone’s financial transactions. It turned out that between 2015 and 2018, he had purchased large batches of tools, tarps, and food concentrates under the fictitious name “Brother E.” Meanwhile, Imogene wrote words on a sheet of paper: “Temple of Breathing Stone.”
The FBI analyst’s report contains the phrase: “There are indications of an attempt to realize an architectural project of a religious nature.” This meant the “temple” was not a metaphor. Imogene could only repeat certain phrases: “Three circles, the sun in the stone, the entrance underwater.”
In December of 2022, a joint team conducted an operation in the area of Animas Fork. They discovered a narrow opening camouflaged by branches. Inside was a slope leading down to a makeshift dwelling. The main cell contained bunks and tools stacked with meticulous precision. In the center stood a makeshift altar with a pyramid-shaped stone.
They found a notebook signed “Elijah Stone.” One passage stated: “He left me a blueprint. We will create it from flesh, wood, and stone. The temple will stand when all else falls.”
Five wooden plaques with engraved names were also found. Four of the names were erased, and the fifth clearly read: “IO.” Experts suggested these identified people who he considered to be the “foundation stones.” Forensic analysis confirmed the presence of DNA from two other people who were not identified, meaning Imogene was not the only victim.
In January of 2023, the FBI located a remote gorge 6 miles from Stony Pass. They found a settlement with several wooden structures and a massive roofless tower. A man in a dark cloak sat on its doorstep. It was Elijah Stone. He offered no resistance. One of the witnesses later said that Stone whispered: “The foundation is laid. The temple will be built even without me.”
Two other emaciated people were found in a small hut. They called themselves disciples and refused to leave, believing that the purification was not yet complete. Stone himself remained silent. During the inspection of the tower, agents found a large stone block shaped like the base of a pyramid.
In March of 2023, the trial began. Stone sat calmly. A psychiatric examination found him sane but guided by a pathological belief. The prosecutor emphasized that Stone was purposefully creating a system of subjugation. The verdict was life in prison without parole.
Imogene Owen continued her treatment. During a therapy session, she burst into tears. She told her nurse: “He called it ecstasy. I was just afraid to breathe.” She described how she was forced to haul stones and build walls. She said that her smile was not joy, but a spasm of fear: “He taught me to smile when it hurts because it is purification.”
In April, Imogene’s sister founded a charity. Imogene herself refused to attend a memorial unveiling, saying only that she was not ready to look at the mountains yet. Her latest clinic report states she spends most of her time at the window. In one note, she wrote: “If the temple is faith, then the foundation of pain is also part of it.”
In her latest drawings, the mountains have no pyramids and no symbols—just silhouettes melting into the fog. Her hands are still shaking, but the lines are smooth and confident.
