The Armstrong Mansion – Salt Lake City

I’ve thought about staying in Salt Lake City on past trips up and down Interstate 15. But I always seem to be on the fast track to WY or CA, depending on which direction I’m headed. In addition, my tendancy is to jog off to the backroads and skip cities, looking for historic log cabins or off-the-beaten-path country inns, so I usually bypass cities altogether.. This time, I was determined to force myself off the freeway and find some sort of unique lodging in Salt Lake City itself. I found exactly that at the Armstong Mansion.

Built in 1893 by Francis Armstrong, the Queen Anne mansion was a gift to his wife, Isabel (or Isabelle, or Isabella, depending on various historic references,) as he had promised her when they married in 1864. The magnificent home served as a popular gathering place for guests, as the Armstrongs hosted many social events. Impressive in itself for its grandeur, it was also one of only three houses in Salt Lake City at that time to be able to boast a luxurious new amenity for its day – indoor plumbing.

Francis Armstrong was born in Northumberland, England, moving later to Canada and eventually to Salt Lake City after converting to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. He worked his way up from employee at several lumber and flour mills to mill manager at Little’s Lumber Mill. Eventually he purchased the mill, as well as numerous other properties and companies, developing them with tremendous success. He also became a prominant political figure in the community, holding positions on the school board and city council and eventually serving two terms as Mayor of Salt Lake City. By the time he passed away in 1899, his wealth was second only to that of Brigham Young. Isabel continued to live in the Armstrong Mansion until her own death in 1930.

The massive size of the mansion would have come in handy, as Francis and Isabel had twelve children. Conflicting historical reports also state that he took – or didn’t take, depending on the account – a second wife, Sarah Carruth, with whom he had six additional children. Only two of the six survived beyond childhood, with Isabel raising those two after Sarah passed away in 1883. Additional, contradictory research states that he did not practice polygamy, but hid polygamists in his attic when they were being pursued by U.S. marshalls.

And that’s exactly where I found myself, tucked away in the attic, in the “Cherished Years” room, a cozy nook under the eaves. The smallest of the B&B’s rooms, it had everything I needed as a solo traveler – a queen bed, private bath and a small sitting area with a window that looked out over the front garden. Much like the rest of the mansion, it was decorated in dark, Victorian colors. I found the room comforting, even for a gal not running from the law.

I’d checked in on the ground floor, helping myself to a treat from a plate of homemade cookies offered to guests upon arrival. After climbing several meandering staircases to reach the top floor – I would take a elevator the next few times – I dropped off my overnight bag, camera equipment and laptop before heading out in search of food. Walking distance from the inn I found Sawadee, a Thai restaurant. I ordered a Pad Thai Tofu dish that was excellent. Saving half for lunch the following day, I headed back to the mansion to enjoy the ambiance of the inn for the evening.

As with many historic structures, there were many years of disrepair between Isabel’s death in 1930 and a complete restoration in the 1990′s. But every inch of the mansion now is exquisite. It would be worth a visit just to view the extravagant woodwork throughout the structure. Intricate carvings highlight many walls, ceilings and stairway bannisters. It’s not hard to imagine the gala events held in the late 1800′s.

The current “Mayor’s Parlor” on the main floors now offers guests a casual place to rest, read, visit or enjoy Internet access. The same room undoubtedly served the same purpose for the original inhabitants and visitors. Minus the free wi-fi, of course. “Isabel’s Dining” room, opposite the parlor, is the morning location of a delicious breakfast offered by the inn. Under a high ceiling and amidst elegant decor – lush, burgundy brocade curtains, matching tableclothes and floral decorations – I helped myself to sundried-tomato quiche, fresh fruit, apple cobbler, cinnamon rolls, fresh juice and coffee. OK, I confess, I had a few bites of berry cobbler, too. Just to be able to report on it, naturally. And it was heavenly, as was everything else.

There are rumblings about the Armstrong Mansion being haunted, as Google searches will show. It will disappoint readers to learn that I didn’t hear mysterious footsteps in the middle of the night. Nor did I witness lights dimming or voices whispering as I walked the halls. I drifted off to sleep with ease. Yet, I will say there was…a feeling…something that cannot quite be described. Maybe it was the dark, authentic Victorian interior or the knowledge of the grand home’s rich history. Whatever it was, there was something undefinable that evoked a subconscious dip into the past.

Stepping out into the sunshine after checking out, I was immediately reminded that it was now the 21st century. There were no horse-drawn carriages to be seen, only shiny blurs of metal passing by. I threw my overnight bag into one of the latter, cranked it up, found the Interstate and headed north, Wyoming bound.

Cedar City, Utah

I arrived in Cedar City early enough to enjoy a blaze of late afternoon sun on the red cliff backdrop that borders the east side of the city. In a most unusual manner (by olden day standards) I knew – from Facebook! – that there were two rooms open at The Iron Gate Inn that evening. I called ahead from St. George and booked one. I was not disappointed.

Built in 1897, the current owners, Susan and CR Wooten, have performed magic with this Second Empire Victorian building. From the original three bedroom, one bath house, a massive remodeling project in 2001 created an eight bedroom, nine bath bed and breakfast establishment, with a cottage artfully placed in the back garden, for good measure.

I was given the Emma Jane room on the second floor, spacious and elegant. The inn’s own description “Not too cluttered, not too frilly…just beautiful,” is spot on. It was perfect. The pale yellow, eggshell and taupe decor was soothing and the bed alluring with the promise of comfort. I find it hard to draw myself away from a delightful room like this, but hunger pulled me out for a bite to eat. At Susan’s recommendation, I strolled around the block to the Pastry Pub in search of a salad. I found exactly what I wanted – the Pub Salad, with romaine lettuce, chopped carrots, mushrooms, bean sprouts, French feta, assorted other cheeses and avocado, topped with a balsamic vinaigrette dressing. It was so outstanding that I would end up going back for another one the following day for lunch.

Back in the Emma Jane room, I curled up in the heavenly, comfortable bed and read until the cushy bedding pulled me into a deep sleep. Breakfast was served as a buffet in the dining room, with the option of eating outside in the garden patio. The morning offering – a sun-dried tomato/egg quiche with home baked apple-cinnamon muffins – proved to be delicious.

Cedar City is home to the Utah Shakespeare Festival, with an expansive schedule of daily plays. For that alone, it would be worth a trip to this area. For the experience of staying at The Iron Gate Inn, it’s worth making it a vacation destination or a honeymoon.

I didn’t have time to catch a play, tempting as it was. But I did manage a side trip up to Cedar Breaks National Monument, an easy 21 mile drive to the east. It was well worth the extra time to see the dramatic views into a red rock “amphitheatre.”

This is an area that calls for more than a brief pass-through, but that’s all my time allowed. My recommendation to visitors: Plan a few days, at least. Time your visit to coincide with the Utah Shakespeare Festival. (Incidentally, the Iron Gate Inn is a mere block from the theatre center – an easy walk.) A drive up to Cedar Breaks National Monument is also an excellent activity.

And for lunch or dinner? I’d head back the casual Pastry Pub and grab the same exact salad. Or maybe the fresh citrus salad….or maybe…well, obviously I need to go back soon.

On the Road Again – Finally!

After a year off the road – following a nasty hiking accident last summer – I’m finally headed out again, at least for a few days. I’m Jackson Hole bound, heading to that magnificently beautiful area that continues to draw me in like a magnet.

I left Los Angeles around 8AM, heading across Pearblossom Highway to avoid city traffic. From Victorville, I took Interstate 15 northbound, passing through Barstow and Baker, across the Mojave Desert and finally into Nevada. A quick step out of the car in Las Vegas landed me in 111 degree heat. I lost no time getting back on the road, grateful for a full blast of A/C.

The stretch of landscape north of Las Vegas is scenic, the highway winding uphill, surrounded by rock formations that tower high above the comparably minute vehicles below. St. George, Utah is a feasible stop along Interstate 15, but I was in a driving mood and continued on.

Pulling into Cedar City, UT, I stumbled upon a Bed and Breakfast just a block away from the city’s well-known Shakespeare festival and here I sit this evening, wrapped in luxury and a guest of wonderful hosts. More on this in the next post…

Death Valley – Part 4

Driving back from Scotty’s Castle, I could feel the fatigue creeping into my bones. The daylight was almost gone and we were both tired and hungry. The Wrangler Steakhouse was beginning to feel like a regular end-of-the-day haunt for us, so we headed there almost out of habit. It was our last dinner at Furnace Creek and we were rewarded with excellent service and another delicious meal, mine built from the salad bar and Dad’s designed by adding grilled chicken to a spinach salad with dates, glazed almonds and goat cheese. It was just what we needed before turning in for the night.

I set my alarm for five thirty a.m. and drove out to Zabriskie Point, hoping for a few photographic opportunities, but the sun didn’t cooperate. There were other tripod-toting figures there, equally disappointed. But it was worth the early morning visit just to see the views another time before leaving.

On the way back, I stopped at Furnace Creek Inn to check it out. It was smaller than I had expected, having compared it in advance to other upscale national park lodges – the Ahwahnee Hotel in Yosemite and Old Faithful Inn in Yell owstone, for examples. Yet it exuded a desert peacefulness that was in contrast to the active atmosphere of the ranch resort. Given the right bank account and a desire to hide away, it would be a good lodging choice.

I returned to the ranch, loaded up our bags, checked out and headed west, stopping only at Father Crowley Vista Point to look back out over the winding road below. We left Death Valley with many sites yet unvisited: Racetrack Playa, Mosaic Canyon, Natural Bridge, Charcoal Kilns, Mesquite Sand Dunes, Titus Canyon and Ubehebe Crater. But it never hurts to have reasons to revisit outstanding destinations. Death Valley National Park certainly warrants another visit. Or two or three.

Leaving Death Valley behind, we headed north on Hwy 395, stopping for a quick fast-food lunch in Lone Pine, a town known for its proximity to the Alabama Hills. Used as a location for over 300 feature films, John Wayne, Roy Rogers, Clint Eastwood and Spencer Tracy all came to Lone Pine long before our quick visit. We didn’t hear the clattering of horse hooves or the commotion of The Lone Ranger’s ambush, but we did get a look at the wall mural outside the Museum of Lone Pine Film History.

From there, we drove on to Manzanar;, a former WWII war relocation center, now a National Historic Site. The Interpretive Center on the property is exceptional and the guides behind the desk very knowledgeable. The award-winning, 22-minute film, “Remembering Manzanar,” is shown every half hour, so it wasn’t difficult to fit it into the visit. It was educational and emotional, as well.

Pushing on, we weathered some snow between Lee Vining and Bridgeport. Dinner was casual at a Carson City Applebee’s, after which we found a fairly amazing room at the local Courtyard Marriott. Richly decorated in rust and ivory tones, the room was spacious and absolutely gorgeous, not to mention a bargain at 89.

It was tempting to linger a second night in Carson City, simply because the room was so delightful. But we managed to pull ourselves away, grabbing an early breakfast in the lobby before checking out.

Fueled on by dramatic pre-storm lighting, we took a side trip to Virginia City, NV, for a little photography. I had been there recently, but had not had the opportunity to visit the town cemetery – actually a cluster of small, independant cemeteries. Under threat of rain, I wandered from headstone to headstone, feeling the interconnectedness of the lives of those buried there. It felt eerily as if I were walking through the pages of Spoon River Anthology. A small world, even in the hereafter.

Retracing our steps out of Virginia City, we stopped in at the Gold Hill Hotel, located just a mile outside of town. Built in 1859, this hotel is the oldest in Nevada and has been on my “wish list” for some time. Though it wouldn’t be possible to stay that night, I was allowed to tour open rooms and took notes for future visits. We took advantage of their Sunday Brunch to enjoy homemade tomato herb soup and sandwiches in their Crown Point Restaurant before hitting the road.

Our last night’s destination took us up and over Hwy 50, around Lake Tahoe and down to Placerville, where we checked into the Historic Cary House Hotel, an impressive red brick building in the heart of town. Originally built in 1857 and later demolished and rebuilt in 1915, it served as a stage stop during the gold rush heydays. For us, it served as a perfect last night stopping point for the end of our trip. Typical of old hotels, the rooms were not large, which was fine for me, but felt a little too small for Dad’s liking. It was nicely restored and conveniently situated for our needs. Parking was complimentary and a continental breakfast was included with lodging. It would work well for the night.

We followed the recommendation of the front desk clerk and had dinner at Z Pies, an easy half block walk from the hotel. The menu was clever and unique, offering delicious pot pies in a variety of hip flavors. My choice was Spicy Black Bean with Tofu, while Dad opted for Lamb with Rosemary. It was a fitting and hearty meal for weary travelers, just the right touch for the end of a long day. We returned to the hotel to read, edit photos and prepare for our final re-entry into normal daily life.

I’m always torn at the end of trips – half tired and ready to be off the road, yet half wanting to continue the journey. These were my feelings as we loaded up the car the next morning. Travel is tiring, yet it is also energizing. The trick, I think, is to think of it all as travel. In that sense, the trip never really ends. Just as we stop a few days at a hotel, we can stop a few months at our own house before moving on. With this thought in mind, my conflict was resolved. I let out a sigh of relief, started the car and headed for home.

Death Valley – Part 3 (Scotty’s Castle)

“Death Valley Scotty” was born Walter Scott in 1872. From a young age he sought adventure, running away from his Kentucky home at age 11 to his brother’s Nevada ranch. After working a variety of jobs, including some in Death Valley, he joined Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show as a cowboy.

Though he stayed with the traveling group for a period of twelve years. a new career was on the horizon for Scotty. In a clever and ingenious plan, he convinced numerous eastern investors to finance a gold mine that he had discovered out west, promising to split the profits with them. As proof of his discovery, he displayed an impressive hunk of gold-laced ore. It was a great plan, with just one catch: there was no mine and the ore specimen had been purchased by Scotty on a trip to Colorado. No matter, the investors believed the convincing story.

The funds intended for the mine allowed Scotty to live in wild fashion, spending the “earnings” from his lucrative mine at fancy hotels and saloons. So convincing was his flamboyant character that the charade continued for years, until the investors began to be concerned about the profits from the mine, which were missing in action.

As investors backed out, one important financier remained. Albert Johnson, an insurance magnate from Chicago, came out west and decided the beauty of Death Valley was more valuable than mining returns. He, along with his wife, Bessie, formed a lifelong friendship with Death Valley Scotty.

In 1927 contruction began on Death Valley Ranch and the impressive building that would come to be known as Scotty’s Castle. Though actually financed by Albert Johnson – to the tune of nearly two million dollars – the quiet insurance man went along with his colorful friend’s story that the castle was being built by Scotty himself, from his gold mine’s profits.

The details of the 32,000 square foot Spanish-Mediterranean main building are mind-boggling. Natural springs above the Grapevine Canyon property were used to provide electricity by using a Pelton water motor. A Leonard electric refrigerator was installed in the kitchen -a modern luxury that impressed many a guest – and cooking was done on a natural gas stove. Indoor waterfalls kept common rooms cool. Handcrafted tiles, wrought-iron chandeliers and European tapestries filled the “castle” in palatial style. A Welte pipe organ with over one thousand pipes was installed in a 37-ft-long upstairs music room.

With such opulence, as well as Scotty’s aptitude for self-promotion, stories of the “castle in the desert” began to spread. The Johnsons and Scotty became hosts to overnight visitors who arrived to see the extravagant building and surrounding desert and to be entertained by Scotty himself. Lodging fees were charged and the castle’s library was turned into a dining room. Custom dinnerware was imported from Italy.

The stock market crash of 1929 and the Great Depression brought a quick halt to finishing the ranch’s construction. Albert Johnson no longer had the means to pour money into the project. In addition, an error in the original survey and homesteaders’ filing on the property revealed that Death Valley Ranch had actually been built on government land. All construction stopped, leaving the 270 foot swimming pool and numerous other features unfinished.

Johnson managed to straighten out the legalities of ownership and acquired the land, but it passed to the non-profit Gospel Foundation of California upon his death in 1948. The National Park Service purchased it in 1970 and continues to maintain the grounds and buildings.

Park rangers in 1939 period dress do an excellent job explaining the history of the ranch. The stories of Death Valley Scotty and Albert and Bessie Johnson seem very real while ambling through the doorways of the rooms they once inhabited. And seeing is believing when it comes to the many luxuries and technological advances that helped create Scotty’s Castle. Indoor tours are offered hourly from 9-5 daily, with additional underground tours available at varying times. Though it’s possible for visitors to wander the grounds on their own, the only way to see inside Scotty’s Castle is to purchase a tour ticket. It’s well worth it – a Death Valley experience that is not to be missed.

Death Valley – Part 2

We continued north to the Salt Creek Interpretive Trail, a winding boardwalk that follows Salt Creek’s warm, salty waters. Though water here is saltier than sea water and can reach temperatures over 100 degrees, tiny “pupfish” are able to survive. Impressive, considering Salt Creek Pupfish have a lifespan of less than one year and a maximum size of 2.5 inches.

Seeing the ruins of Harmony Borax Works was next on the agenda. Built after borax was discovered in the early 1880′s, the plant only operated for five years, closing in 1888. During that time three tons of borax were produced daily, hauled to Mojave by the much romantized mule teams that became a symbol of the borax industry. A one-way drive through gold-hued Mustard Canyon led us back to the highway.

We found dinner again at the Wrangler Steakhouse, where a basket of fresh, hot bread sliding onto our table was a welcome sight. Roasted glazed chicken got Dad’s vote for the meal, while I ordered up a Greek salad with kalamata olives, feta cheese and citrus-herb vinaigrette.

The following morning required a room change, as we’d added a third night after arriving and it necessitated moving to a standard accommodation. The room was not as desirable, and there were a few mix-ups involved in the transfer. But it did give us an opportunity to continue our stay. For that, we were grateful. We lugged our bags over to the new room and prepared for another busy day.

A little more exploration to the south was in order, so we headed out on Hwy 190 again. Turning left at Furnace Creek Wash Rd., we continued to Dante’s View Rd., where we took a right turn and maneuvered the twisting, steep terrain thirteen miles to a ridge on top of the Black Mountains. Situated 5500 ft. above sea level, the vistas from Dante’s View are nothing less than spectacular. In one glance, visitors can see both the lowest and highest points in Death Valley: Badwater Basin, at 282 ft. below sea level and Telescope Peak, at 11,049 above. From the parking area, trails lead off to both the south and north, giving additional vantage points to enchanted visitors and eager photographers.

Doubling back, we took a side loop through 20 Mule Team Canyon, which gave our car a slow, bumpy journey and gave us close-up views of rock formations. I made a note to myself to advise future visitors to take advantage of the side loops offered in various areas of the park. They allow a closer view of Death Valley’s wonders, both literally and figuratively.

Zabriskie Point was next on the list, conveniently located just west of the 20 Mule Team Canyon loop. The astonishing views of canyons, ridges and rock formations were so dramatic that I would go back a second time before our trip ended. Breathtaking scenery stretched out in every direction. Not surprisingly, photographers were staked out all along the edges of the viewing area. There would be even more when I returned during early morning hours.

After a quick lunch of leftovers back in the room, we changed direction and headed north. Though we now faced a driving distance of over one hundred miles round trip, it was our chance to see inside the mind of one of California history’s biggest characters.

Death Valley – Part 1

It didn’t take long to realize the obvious: It would not be possible to see all of Death Valley National Park in three days. The three million acre expanse was not going to be conquered in seventy-two hours. We would need to make choices.

We entered from the northeast, driving in by way of Rhyolite, a ghost town just four miles outside Beatty, NV. The drive from Las Vegas had not been difficult, but I’d attended business meetings in the morning, picked up my father at Las Vegas’ McCarren International Airport and then trekked a fair distance. It was with a sigh of relief that we finally checked into our lodging for the night.

We knew immediately we had made a wise choice in reserving a deluxe room at the Furnace Creek Ranch Resort. It was a sizeable accommodation, newly remodeled in soothing earth tones, decked out with high-class bedding and accented with artistic, framed prints of Death Valley scenery. Located in a single story building, the vaulted ceiling made the room feel even more spacious. A refrigerator, coffee maker, plush towels and upscale bath amenities made it a comfortable home away from home. Added to all this was a private patio that looked out over the lawn, pool and tennis areas. Parking was at our doorstep. At half the price of the prestigious Furnace Creek Inn just a mile down the road, it was perfect.

Once settled into our room, we headed eagerly for the nearest grub. This we found at the Wrangler Steakhouse, one of several eateries on the property. Dinner was excellent – filet mignon for Dad and spinach fettucini with portabella mushrooms, white wine, roasted tomato, and garlic for me. Delicious.

Over post-meal coffee, we discussed options for the next day. Sites within Death Valley are spread out and require travel – twenty miles to this one, thirty miles to that one, etc. We grouped our intended destinations into general directions, made a tentative outline for our explorations and returned to the room for a good night’s sleep.

Morning brought good weather and we loaded up camera equipment and headed out, stopping at the ranch’s casual 49er Cafe for an easy breakfast. Our first goal: salt flats.

Badwater Basin sits at 282 ft. below sea level – the lowest point in No. America – and derives its name from the undrinkable salty water of its spring-fed pool, located near the parking area. Visitors are treated to a stunning vista across the basin to Telescope Peak, which hovers 11,049 feet above the valley. I hiked cautiously out on the muddy trail towards the ocean of white salt, a result of the area’s rapid evaporation of rainfall. While I admired and inspected the rugged crust, Dad stayed behind to take photographs on the main boardwalk area.

Backtracking along the highway, we veered off the main road to follow the Artist’s Drive loop to Artist’s Palette, a colorful, rocky display caused by oxidized metals. Nine miles in length and situated along Badwater Rd, this drive is an easy addition to a trip to Badwater Basin.

After a brief rest at the ranch, we stopped in at the Death Valley Visitors Center to pick up an official park map and gain a little more insight into the area. The National Park Service is always good about staffing its visitor centers with knowledgeable rangers. We left there armed with new information.

Rhyolite, Nevada – A Ghost Town

The bright lights of Las Vegas were long gone by the time I pulled over outside Beatty, NV. I’d managed to convince my father to fly into Las Vegas and meet me, setting aside several days for desert exploration. We’d traveled 120 miles northwest so far and were about to reach our first destination.

The town of Rhyolite played a prominent role in the mining history of the Death Valley area. Gold-laced quartz was discovered in Nevada’s Bullfrog Hills by Shorty Harris and E. L. Cross in 1904, setting off a hectic period of activity that lasted from approx. 1905 to 1911. Though brief in duration, it was long enough to build a bustling community that grew to estimates of 5,000-10,000 in population at its peak. Electric plants, lodging facilities, saloons and assorted mercantiles grew quickly to match the demands of the town. A hospital, school, ice cream parlor and opera house were just a few of the many establishments that Rhyolite boasted during its heyday.

The 1906 San Francisco earthquake and the 1907 financial panic both played a role in the demise of Rhyolite. The Montgomery Shoshone Mine, purchased by Charles M. Schwab in 1906 and the largest of the area’s mines, closed in 1911. The post office soon followed and in 1916 the electrical power in the town was turned off, leaving little but partial ruins and memories of busier days.

Crumbled walls and vacant lots now remain for visitors to see. The Tom T. Kelly Bottle House, built in 1906 with 50,000 beer and liquor bottles, stands complete, having been restored by Paramount Pictures in 1925. The old Las Vegas and Tonapah Railroad Depot looks down over the now ghost town from high on the hill, privately owned and carefully fenced off for protection. Portions of the Porter Brothers Store, old jail and three story John S. Cook and Co. Bank building are also still standing.

Our drive from Las Vegas landed us in Rhyolite too late for ideal photography light. Still, we snapped the shutters a few times and braved a chilly wind while wandering up and down the deserted main street.

Before leaving, we paused at the Goldwell Open Air Museum, which displays sculptures by numerous artists, including several by Albert Szukalski. His ghostly rendition of Da Vinci’s “The Last Supper”, as well as his “Ghost Rider” made this a very worthwhile stop. It’s no coincidence these figures look eeirily real. To create them, he draped plaster-soaked fabric on live models, later coating the hardened shapes with fiberglass. Against the dramatic desert backdrop, they are breathtaking.

With 35 miles left to drive before we could settle in for the night, we returned to the car and headed back to the highway, watching the remnants of Rhyolite fade into the hillside. Before us, an entire desert filled with mining history and geological wonders stood waiting. We turned southwest and headed for the entrance to Death Valley National Park.

Motel 6 Tropicana – Las Vegas, NV

As much as my travels usually land me in historic hotels and funky log cabins, I have a new Las Vegas favorite lodging: Motel 6 Tropicana. Yep, that’s right. Good old Motel 6 has now left the light on for me twice in Sin City, the second time a result of how impressed I was with my first stay.

I’ll admit that I have to place this second to The Venetian, which is a city unto itself. Given an ample budget and a few days to relax and wander without leaving a property, that has always been my choice. But in a financial pinch and with canine in tow on a recent visit, I took advantage of the very reasonable 30.59 Internet rate for a “remodeled/remarkable” room at Motel 6 Tropicana, located on the corner of Tropicana and Koval.

Convenient to both The Strip and McCarren International Airport, this Motel 6 – the largest in the chain – turned out to be all that it advertises and more. The ‘remodeled/remarkable” rooms are indeed remarkable, with contemporary decor, flat screen televisions and a clever sitting area with work table in one corner. The beds are super comfortable and the bathroom spacious and immaculately clean. True to Motel 6′s general formula, guests won’t find a lot of fancy extras in the rooms. But everything needed for a comfortable night’s stay is there. And for a whopping 2.99 fee, Internet access for 24 hrs. can be included, as well.

The property itself is massive, with a large pool area that also offers tables and chairs in a garden setting. A desire for a snack won’t necessitate walking to the nearest fast food establishment. There’s a convenience store across from the front lobby – not a typical corner hotel alcove, but a building the size of a small 7-11, with as much variety. If looking for a full meal, there’s a Coco’s restaurant on the property as well, though the MGM Grand and other Las Vegas resorts and casinos are within walking distance.

Admittedly, this lodging establishment is not for those looking for massive suites with sunken living rooms, marble bathrooms and premium-stocked honor bars. Guests won’t find hot stone massages and aromatherapy body wraps on the Motel 6 menu. But still, all those nifty luxuries are just a short meander down the road. And for what customers save in room charges, it’s not inconceivable to add a treat or two to a trip.

A final note: customer service is clearly a priority at my new favorite Las Vegas budget digs. On both of my visits the front desk was friendly, courteous and helpful. That’s a nice icing on a cake that already exceeds expectations.

This last visit won’t be my last stay at Motel 6 Tropicana. The place deserves a shout out for the job they do, so there it is.

Virginia City, NV

When opportunity knocks, I believe in grabbing it. This is how I found myself stashed away in a funky hotel room in Virginia City, Nevada. With my trusty corgi mix for a companion. I was eastbound on Interstate 80, heading once again to Wyoming. I’d have two weeks to experience Jackson Hole’s winter wonderland, my first non-summer visit. And yes, I packed both Uggs and toasty warm gloves, along with a multitude of additional cold weather paraphernalia.

A vigil over weather.com earned me a day of smooth sailing over Donner Pass, with clear, ice-free highways and chilly but bearable temperatures. Once in Nevada, twisting mountain roads carried us twenty-three miles southeast of Reno, boasting magnificent views along the way. Traffic was light, rest stops were plentiful and we – canine and human – pulled into Virginia City in the late afternoon, landing at the foot of “C” Street, the historic mining town’s main drag.

My desire to visit Virginia City had been based on photographic opportunities, as I knew the town was packed with possibilities. But once I arrived it didn’t take long to realize the history of Virginia City was rich and colorful and well worth a visit with or without a camera.

With about an hour of daylight left, I decided it would be best to check into lodging before exploring. A perfect situation awaited me at The Silver Queen Hotel, which was both pet-friendly and located right in the heart of town. To make the choice even more enticing, I knew the hotel was a favorite among ghost hunters. With numerous accounts of hauntings, we were bound to have an interesting stay.

The Silver Queen herself reigns over the 1870′s saloon with an aura of wealth. Part painting, part mosaic, she stands 16 feet tall and boasts 3261 silver dollars, as well as 28 gold twenty dollar coins, all embedded with sparkling finesse. With a wedding chapel behind her, a dance floor in front of her and a bar to her left, the eeiry look on her face seems smug with tales untold.

Had I felt adventurous, I would have taken up the front desk’s offer of Room 11, the “haunted room,” as it was described to me. Based more on economy than fear, I took Room 7, instead, which was smaller, less expensive and had a convenient street-level entrance from its “B Street” side, behind the hotel. As with the rest of the hotel, the room was authentically restored, furnished with an antique brass bed and oak dresser and peaceful without television or telephone. A private bath and shower were welcome modern additions.

With the car parked and bags unloaded, we set out on foot to learn a little bit about Virginia City’s history. Wandering along the wooden plank boardwalks, with awnings and balconies hovering above, we peered in windows and read historic plaques. It was not hard to imagine the activity of the former mining days.

Silver and gold were first discovered by prospectors Pat McLaughlin and Peter O’Reilly in 1859 on the east side of Mount Davidson in Nevada’s Washoe Mountains. What came to be known as The Comstock Lode was named after Henry Comstock, who convinced the prospectors that he was entitled to a share of the claim. The Comstock Lode would become the richest known silver deposit in the U.S., also yielding a substantial amount of gold.

With the influx of fortune seekers, the area became a hub of activity. During the 1860′s and 70′s Virginia City’s population grew to approimately 30,000 and the town offered all the ingredients of an old western town, including churches, hotels, saloons, opium dens and a prospering red light district. The walls of the local boarding houses and bars would undoubtedly have more than a few stories to tell.

Noticed by President Abraham Lincoln, the activity of The Comstock Lode helped finance the end of the Civil War and led to Nevada becoming a state in 1864. It essentially ended the California Gold Rush, as propectors flocked to the area to lay claims.

Investment money was needed to finance the operation of the lucrative underground mines. Much of this came from San Francisco, rewarding those investors with millionaire status. Mansions built by those made rich from The Comstock Lode can be seen today on Nob Hill. San Francisco’s first stock exchange, the San Francisco Stock and Exchange Board, was organized to handle the trading of shares of silver mining companies.

Many benefitted from the wealth The Comstock Lode produced, including Leland Stanford, founder of Stanford University and George Hearst, father of publishing baron William Randolph Hearst. While some became millionaires, still others sold out early and died poor. Henry Comstock was one of the less fortunate. Though his name remained attached to the lode, he moved on to prospect in other areas and eventually took his own life in Montana.

The Virginia and Truckee Railroad was built in 1869 to transport ore to quartz reduction mills in nearby Silver City and along the Carson River. On return trips, the railway carried wood for fuel and other supplies necessary for the mining process.

The “Great Fire of 1875″ burned approximately three-fourths of the structures, but the town managed to get back on its feet within the following year and a half. Many buildings date to 1876, as a result of the massive rebuilding efforts.

The numerous veins of The Comstock Lode intertwined far below the earth’s surface, sending mining activities to new depths underground. The work conditions were extremely dangerous, plagued with cave-ins, flooding and temperatures in excess of 100 degrees. Out of necessity, Virginia City’s mines became instrumental in designing improved mining technology.

By the time the Great Depression rolled around, Virginia City was only a shadow of the bustling town it had been during its mining heydays. In a twist of fate during the 1960′s, the popularity of the TV series “Bonanza” brought attention to the town. Though the series was filmed primarily on the backlot at Paramount Studios in So. Calif., with a few secondary locations, it succeeded in bringing visitors to the real Virginia City.

Another character linked to Virginia City is known not for his mining investments, but for his literary shenanigans. Author Samuel Clemens took on his pen name of Mark Twain while doing a stint as a local reporter for the Territorial Enterprise. His life in the colorful mining town is documented at the Mark Twain Museum. The author tells of his reporting days in “Roughing It”.

We returned to the hotel, this time entering from the main street and climbing a steep stairway that could easily take away a fit person’s breath even without factoring in the local 6200 ft. altitude. At the end of the narrow, gold-hued hallway we found our room and settled in for the night.

Whether it was because I opted out of Room 11 or simply because the resident spirits were feeling peaceful, I slept soundly. There were no mysterious footsteps outside the door and no glowing apparitions at the foot of the bed. Still, I admit to a certain aura within the building that was difficult to define. Perhaps it was just the inevitable sense of history that old buildings with interesting pasts seem to evoke. Perhaps.

Virginia City was designated a National Historic Landmark in 1961. This status helps maintain the historic structures much as they were over a century ago. Today the town is a popular tourist attraction with casinos, bed and breakfasts, museums and a variety of other businesses. True, that means visitors will find an assortment of souvenirs and T-shirts scattered up and down the main street. But it also means a visit can mix fun with education, relaxation with a glimpse into the past.

On this visit, I was juggling a new camera, old laptop, freezing temperatures, leashed canine and limited time. I missed out on much of what Virginia City has to offer: intriguing old churches and numerous cemeteries, educational museum exhibits and tours of old mines and mansions.

Before moving on, we stopped at the Virginia City Visitor’s Center, housed in the former Crystal Bar. Here, below original tin ceilings and chandeliers, a very helpful Diamond Jim gave us additional area information and kindly posed for a picture with my traveling companion. With the day approaching noon, we left Virginia City and The Comstock Lode behind and headed back to catch Interstate 80 eastbound.