Days 15 – 16

This morning began at the lovely Bodie Hotel in Bridgeport, California.  Of course I am being facetious when I say “lovely.” I guess if you were the type of person who found the Bodie to be lovely you would also be the kind of person who would find Purgatory a great place to vacation. I could go on and on, suffice to say I would rather forget about the place.



1949 Packard camping trailer? Goldfield, Nevada

After leaving Bridgeport we headed south and made our way back into Nevada. Traveling along the lonely desert highways we made our way through the scattered old mining towns that dot the landscape in this part of the country. These are hardscrabble towns where the people endured the heat and a most foreboding landscape in order to make a meager living in the mines. Back in the days of yore a man in old mining camps such as Tonopah and Goldfield could work up mighty thirst.  But these old miners could drink with a clear conscience as they could use their beer bottles to achieve the American dream – building their own home. Beer bottle houses are found in a number of towns in west-central Nevada. Goldfield seems to have the most. Rock was hard to quarry and local lumber was non-existent. Beer bottles, on the other hand, were everywhere. While Goldfield seemed to have the highest number of bottle houses, none of them compare to the greatest bottle house located in the old ghost town of Rhyolite. Built in 1905 by a saloon keeper named Tom Kelly, it is unique due to the fact that the bottles were not covered with stucco. I first heard about the bottle house in Rhyolite when I watched an old Charles Kuralt On The Road segment when he visited the house in the early 1970s. When he visited the town was populated by Rhoylite’s last resident, an old song-and-dance man and former snake oil salesman named Tommy Thompson. Tommy Thompson came to Rhyolite in 1905 and was still there in the early 1970s filling the ruins of the town with his personality. Interestingly enough Rhoylite was founded by Charles Schwab who was baptized in Williamsburg in 1862 (fifth baptism according to our parish records).  In the segment Tommy Thompson plays the accordion and speaks about the early days of this forlorn gold camp.

 

Having seen the Kuralt segment I had high hopes for Rhyolite. Some of them were fulfilled, others were not. Gladly the house has been restored (thankfully) and a fence was erected around the property. The house has survived heat, wind (the wind howls through the mountains that surround the ghost town), and atomic blasts (it is only about 50 miles from a nuclear testing area), the house survives as a testimony to good construction and quenched thirsts.



 

 

After leaving Rholyte were not far from the fabled Area 51. Perhaps visitors from other planets stop here to gas up and get a fountain drink.

Finally we made our way to fabulous Las Vegas. There are many things I find troubling about Vegas; from my vantage point at the buffet I think one could see all 7 of the deadly sins, gluttony being foremost. One man cut in front of at the buffet on his scooter with a plate so full (a half eaten corndog on top) that he had no room for the egg rolls he had picked up so he placed them in the pocket of his jacket. While the buffet at the Rio hotel was great, it reminded about excess and need.

 

After supper I traveled to the famed Gold and Silver Pawn Shop, home of the television show Pawn Stars. Sadly Chumley has not there. The store is not as big as you would think, but it was worth the visit.

 

An older Rich Little and Fr. Aron

After the pawn shop Fr. Doug got two rooms at the Rio hotel. I originally wanted to just stay up all night and go to the airport early in the morning. Fr. Doug wanted to rest (rest is overrated) and got two rooms for $39.00 each. For the price you could not get a better deal. After a brief rest we headed to the Las Vegas Hotel to see Rich Little. Now to people of a certain age the name Rich Little is very familiar. Others may ask, “Rich Little, is he still alive?” Still others ask, “who is Rich Little.” Rich Little was the preeminent American mimic in the 1960s and 1970s. He is a regular on the old Dean Martin Celebrity Roasts. He and Don Rickles are basically the last two comedians  of that generation who are still performing. For the show Rich narrates Jimmy Stewart’s life as Jimmy Stewart (one of his famous impersonations) and does over thirty other impressions of people talking about Jimmy Stewart. If you are an old soul like me, or if you are just plain old, you would love this show. These old stars live on in Rich Little, a man who actually knew all of them. A cavalcade of old time characters came to life. The best impressions  in my opinion were Walter Brennan, Paul Lynde, Foster Brooks, and Johnny Carson. He even did Karnack the Magnificent. When he was impersonating Don Rickles he ripped on Fr. Doug (we were in the front row) and told him that he hoped that when he jumped on his bicycle the seat would be missing. In the end I shook his hand and second only to seeing the Pope it was my second best encounter with greatness.

After an early start, 4:30 AM, we boarded our plane and after two stops landed in Pittsburgh. Centuries ago Marco Polo once reported “I have not told half of what I saw.” I concur. Thanks for reading.