Goodsprings

A second non gambling post.

Again, R.P. got dropped off on the strip for some poker and I headed out to see the desert.  DESTINATION: Goodsprings, Nevada.

Many of you driving to Las Vegas from California pass the exit to Goodsprings and never slow down.  Jean Nevada is exactly 32 miles south of downtown Las Vegas on Interstate 15.  I fueled The Beast there, cheaper than in Vegas.  The diesel station is on the east side of 15 and is easily accessible.  You even get a free soda or coffee with your diesel fill up along with friendly staff.

Head back west on Nevada 161 7.3 miles to Goodsprings.  This is the second iteration of the name; it was first known as “Goods’ Spring”, having been named for the man who discovered the spring and homesteaded there.

As you come into town you see a small community with many old tumble down adobe buildings.  The main attraction is the Pioneer Saloon.

This saloon was built in 1912 from a Sears &Roebuck mail order kit!  It has stamped tin ceiling panels and is very rustic.  I pulled into town and drove all the paved roads then returned to the saloon and around 1030 in the morning, parked across the road and walked through the front door to discover that I had travelled back in time to a very popular watering hole.  A time worn, bare wood floor and a very old looking bar.  There is a dining room off the main saloon and an exit to a shaded courtyard.  It was a little chilly (48 degrees f) when I pulled into town and someone had started a nice fire in the potbelly stove and the smell of the wood along with the warmth was very welcome.

I pulled out a seat at the bar next to a retired European couple on holiday.  The bartender; dressed in jeans, collared shirt, vest, boots and cowboy hat came up and took our orders for a local brewed IPA.  He introduced himself as Tom and was a fount of information.  He lives in town with his wife and young daughter and really has an affinity for the place.  He knows the history of the town and the politics as well.  Sitting down the bar was another retired couple who were driving the area and at the end were a couple of boisterous, weathered older guys who had driven over the mountain, through the desert from Pahrump.

As I said earlier, the saloon was a catalog kit.  The bar itself came from the (now) ghost town of Rhyolite.  It was shipped via sailing ship from the east coast around the horn before being delivered by wagon team into the wilds of mid 1800’s Nevada.  As I sip my beer and listen to Tom telling the stories of the past, I wonder at the wear on the floor and bar.  Who sat here and held a draft of their own?  What was their daily life like?  Was he like Tom, with a family and education wants for his child?  Perhaps he was just a saddle tramp passing through to the next ranch.  How many boots walked through the well worn door and across the rough hewn floor?  Based on the disrepair of the old homes that now lie in ruins, how many dreams flared to life but died?  I am transported back to a time when men came in here at the end of their day for refreshment and possibly a meal.  Who sat here laughing and joking with their neighbors and friends?  My vision clears and I see the new group of patrons and wonder what they are here for.  The interogator in me pops up and i start asking my bar companions why they are there.  The couple next to me are exploring old towns, they seem to be kindred spirits.  The other retired couple saw the place on a travel website of places for tourists to visit.  The two weathered guys are just out for a day outing from the retirement community in Pahrump.  There is a women’s philanthropy group meeting in the dining room.  They are all well dressed and were bussed here from Jean.

I ask Tom about the town in general.  The school there is the oldest continually used one in Nevada.  The town board insists that any lot in town that has an existing period structure  (no matter how far gone) must be returned to historic appearance.  This explains why there are so many empty places right in the center of town.  He said that the original spring is still flowing well and is on private property.  He also told me that, despite appearances, there is plenty of water in the valley.  He said the well for the saloon is only 8 feet deep.

I finished the last of my beer, bade good day to Tom and my companions, and went to the store next door.  This is a little store, not many souvenirs if that is what you are wanting.  They do sell ice cream, t-shirts and cowboy hats.  It is another old building with time worn floors.  I buy a soda for the road and since there is a lot of daylight left, decide to head to Sandy Valley.

I drive past the school and the original Good’s farmstead and head back out into the desert for the ride through this wild landscape.  As I drive through these areas, I am always curious about the first European to see it.  Most likely he was Spanish.  This area was widely travelled and explored by them.  Was he on foot or did he have a fine Castilian horse?  Maybe even a priest with a hand cart or burro.  I’ll probably never know, but I still wonder what they thought of the land they were travelling on.

Off to Sandy Valley, which sits directly on the California /Nevada border.  There is some light agriculture that takes place there.  I didn’t spend any  time in Sandy Valley so I have no real vision  except that most of the roads are dirt and there’s not a lot of shade.  From Goodsprings you take the Sandy Valley road which winds through the mountain range and skirts the town.  It then turns north to meet with Nevada 160.  Sounds pretty simple huh?

North of Sandy Valley, Sandy Valley road turns into a road that varies from 2 to 4 vehicles wide.  The drawback is that it has turned to dirt the minute I left town.

Admittedly it is well maintained dirt/gravel, but it is still washboard in many areas and is at times under 30 miles per hour.  This road wanders through the desert to 160 where you rejoin the asphalt and can choose to go east to Vegas or northwest to Pahrump.  I chose Vegas.  There is a great area  to drive through some high national forest on the way east, as well as some areas to overlook the Red Rock NCA.

I head up into the national forest and drive around a while before finding a nice spot to eat my packed lunch overlooking Red Rock.

Lunch over and the day drawing to a close, it’s time to go meet with R.P. and have some dinner and quality couple time.   I bid adieu to the barren vastness and head back into the urban sprawl.  Off to further adventures.

See you out there.

BFD