Victor is nine-tenths Rocky Mountain ghost town, fifty miles by pavement and twenty-five by rough dirt from Colorado Springs.   What life remains is a dried-up husk of its former vibrancy atop one of the richest gold deposits ever discovered.  I didn't go there intending to shoot photographs.  I'd just coaxed my rented Hyundai through the shortcut road in an unexpected spring snowstorm, and a stroll down Victor's boarded-up Main Street offered a welcome chance to calm my nerves.  When I first passed the Victor Cafe, my camera was locked in the car, half a block away.  The dog, fortunately, did not wake up.