PILOT HILL -- Behind the 6-foot-high chain-link fence, capped with stranded barbed-wire, the magnificent Bayley House brick mansion is not really inviting. Wild blackberry vines, as well as knee-high grass filled with stickers, made an unwelcome, yet ineffective barricade.

Abandoned for decades, the 138-year-old building is more than neglected. It's ravaged by time and vandalism, along with a halfhearted renovation plan that went bad. Gone is the facade the stately mansion once held -- the giant white pillars along with a second floor balcony. The appearance of a classic treasure radiating wealth has vanished.

Upon close inspection, it's easy to discern time has taken its toll. However, a recent Saturday morning tour through the historical Bayley House revealed the marvels this splendid Southern Antebellum style mansion once held. The feeling in the abandoned hotel is one of a beautifully crafted home in need of a rejuvenation plan.

"This place feels alive to me. It doesn't feel like a dead place," said John Crane, one of the five members on the board of directors for the Georgetown Divide Recreation District. He is serving his fourth year.

The ancient inn sits on Highway 49, a few minutes north of Coloma. The building with 10 acres of land was purchased for $1 by the GDRD from El Dorado County in 1989.

It was bought primarily for adding "10 acres" of recreational land use to the Georgetown Divide area, but the GDRD board members have also inherited all the problems of the old building, as well as the ongoing question of how to save the Bayley House.

Crane estimates about $300,000 is needed to "shore up the walls" just to stabilize the structure.

He said he has contacted state Sen. Tim Leslie, R-Tahoe City, requesting state assistance to save the old mansion. In turn, Leslie has asked Crane to submit a detailed list labeling what the Bayley House could be used for.

Crane said he is compiling a list to submit to Leslie.

"It's going to take some government money ... I would like to see the community use it (Bayley House)," said Crane. "There is not a museum on the Georgetown Divide, and there is a lot of history here.

"There is no final answer yet. He (Leslie) is talking to his colleagues about finding some funding, but there are lots of historical buildings in California," said Crane, adding money from the government is like a shot in the arm to jump-start a restoration project.

Tim James, district representative for Sen. Leslie, in a recent telephone interview said Leslie is aware of the interest in restoring the Bayley House. James explained that before the state will consider putting money into a historical project what is needed is "overwhelming community support" along with a solid "written plan" on what the Bayley House and property would be used for. Some of the questions that need to be answered in the written plan are: Who is going to be responsible for managing the facility, who is going to keep up the historical property as well as -- how will restoring the home benefit both state and local residents?

"What is going to make the sale to the state is, is it worthy and obtainable and how strong the community dedication is," said James, adding the state has to recognize a worthy investment.

Crane shared a rumor that Ulysses S. Grant was just one of America's colorful legends who crossed the Bayley threshold during the gilded age of the 1800s. One can only imagine how the classic mansion might have been -- beautifully crafted -- a grand sight to see.

On this recent Saturday, the sweeping entryway was filled with wind-scattered leaves that had drifted in small piles along the unfinished, time-worn, dusty floor. With no porch or stairs, the only way to tour the old mansion was to climb on in.

Leaves -- crumbled and dry -- came alive when footsteps rustled in the decayed foliage.

"Think Safty" may not have been spelled correctly, but it sounded like good advice when exploring the wreck. The warning was scribbled on a board, nailed to a barren staircase.

Antique, hand-crafted molding trims the doorways and ceilings, as well as the baseboards along the floor.

Rays of summer sunlight filled the entrance, then filtered into the nearby men's and women's parlors, one located on each side of the entryway.

Crane brushed thick dust away from some door molding and said, "I find it really interesting wherever you see the grain of the wood, it's all been hand-painted to look that way."

With no artificial lighting, treading with attention each step of the way, it often took moments to adjust to the darkness. Wallpaper in the men's parlor, faded and peeling, captured an early 20th century bar scene, showing men enjoying their favorite brew.

"There used to be a bar in here," said Crane as he pointed to where it might have been. "The fireplaces had marble insets and mantels ... people break into this place all the time ... just come in and take things.

"This way," said Crane as he quickened his steps, leading the way out through the back of the men's parlor. He stepped down into darkness -- a very cool, dirt-floored room was stacked with plywood on the ground. He peered through a hole in one of the inner bearing walls, and pointed to the outer stem wall in the next room. Running parallel to the foundation and at the base of the stem wall is a deep trench, dug more than a decade ago.

"That's why that wall fell over there because basically all the walls were undercut about 15 years ago, and you can't do that ... it's like cutting someone off at the knees and expecting them to stand up," said Crane, adding that during the rainy season the trenches fill up with water and erode away at the bricks and mortar, naturally returning them to the dirt they were once made from.

"It wasn't renovation, it was demolition," said Crane as he referred to the contractor hired to refurbish the old house when El Dorado County owned it.

A gentle wisp of a fingertip brushed a brick, causing the red dirt to crumble, trickle down the wall -- like sand in an hour glass -- then vanish.

"The brick is turning back into the dirt it used to be, and we can't keep people out of here," said Crane.

Peering through the hole, the ground on the other side of the brick wall was about chest high. A set of fresh, hiking-boot styled footprints were planted firmly in the soft, reddish dirt. Several different kinds of small animal paw prints dotted the dirt in a section of the home that once could have served as a tack room for horse-related equipment, or maybe a cellar.

Crane credited the trenched ground for adding to the problems faced by the Bayley House. In March of this year during a rainstorm, the north wall came tumbling down. The collapse encompassed two levels, leaving an enormous hole exposing the first and second stories, making the crumbling mansion even more vulnerable to the elements than before.

Solid and sturdy, the staircase winds around in the middle of the home and ends at a large, windowless room on the fourth story. The hot and musty attic, with its high vaulted and intentionally unfinished ceiling eventually flattened out -- a hatch-type door is located in the middle of the ceiling. Daylight crept in around the hatch, defining the door's perimeter.

Crane gingerly stepped out and touched the rain damaged floor underneath the hatch, and a piece peeled off into his hand -- dry rot. He said he has not been up through the hatch to the "widow's walk" hip-styled roof. He said he was told a person can see the countryside for miles from the roof and in yesteryear, women would watch from the perch -- keeping an eye out for the return of their menfolk.

"It's overwhelming," said Crane under his breath as he gazed around the third floor and kicked a few pieces of degenerated plaster with the toe of his boot.

He walked toward one of the back windows and said, "I don't see our friend the owl up here today."

Pigeon and bat droppings, scattered feathers indicating a recent kill, bats flying through the huge second-floor dining room, bright red flip-topped boxes of a popular cigarette tossed along with filtered butts, as well as a few amber glass beer bottles, buckled floor boards and missing walls make up the current decor.

With the lath and plaster missing from the inner walls, the wall studs looked like a skeleton of a structure, waiting to be fleshed out with the grandeur the structure once knew. Crane noted the wooden beams, floor joists and wall-studs are still solid, and safe to build upon.

Descending the staircase to the second floor, Crane pointed to the northwest corner of the room, where daylight shone through the gap between the wall and ceiling. Crane credited the collapse of the brick wall last March for causing the roof line and wall to shift. It is also directly above where the stem wall was trenched years ago.

"If the wall caves in at the corner of the roof, and the roof falls, that will be the end of this place," said Crane.

He reached out one of the windows and wiggled a piece of mortar from between the bricks and explained how water intrusion washes away at the mortar. To save the walls, a process called "repointing" is used by filling and finishing off the spaces between the brickwork with fresh cement or mortar.

"It was supposed to be a hotel and he (Bayley) wanted it big," said Crane as he referred to A.J. Bayley, the man who built the house in 1862 on the assumption the railroad would be run near his mansion. "He thought the train was going to be in his front yard ... you know, you can hear the whistle from the Auburn train from here ... it must have driven him (A.J.) crazy and a constant reminder of his failure."

Listening to Crane as he led the way through the dilapidated dwelling, it was a comfort to hear the feeling in his voice for the old homestead -- it doesn't seem that life has been kind to the once magnificent mansion.

Crane said it is his wish to save the historical mansion, to band together with a group of people who want to launch a dream of complete restoration, combined with a down-to-earth plan that will bring the big, old red-brick back to life -- once again to be brimming with style.

"The possibilities are endless," said Crane as he referred to how the Bayley House could best serve the residents of El Dorado County. "Maintenance will be needed forever, but we are coming up with uses that will be self-supporting."

A few of the potential uses on Crane's list are: Library, museum, living history events, community and youth center, senior services, meeting rooms and banquet hall along with office space and a gift shop.

Crane is asking for support from El Dorado County residents, as volunteers as well as ideas on restoration of the Bayley House. Write Crane at PO Box 7, Pilot Hill 95664 or call the GDRD at 823-9090. A Web site is accessible on-line and is currently in the developmental stage. It can be accessed at www.comspark.com/bayleyhouse and soon at www.thebayleyhouse.com.