When Tom’s alarm went off at 6:00am on Saturday July 19, 2025, I was still thinking about the strange noises I had heard in the night. Those animalistic sounds were loud, as was the rhythmic pounding, and I was certain they came from the room next to ours at the Crater Lake Gateway – Highway 140 hotel near Klamath Falls, Oregon. Even when the noises died down and everything went quiet, I couldn’t help but wonder if a brazen Squatch had made its way into our neighbor’s room and caused the commotion. After my photographer got himself ready to take on the day, he went outside to search for Martie and his wife Cathy to axe them about the strange noises in the night, but they had already left for Crater Lake. Or did they?
Instead of following our neighbors to the National Park, the three of us headed in the opposite direction that morning, with our first destination targeted for Carson City, Nevada – which was just a short five-hour drive from our hotel. About an hour after our eight o’clock departure, we crossed the border of Oregon and into the state of California. That moment marked my second visit to the Golden State, and the first since 2018. The sad part of the morning for me was knowing the clock was ticking for a Sasquatch encounter. Over the years, there had been 730 Bigfoot sightings in Washington State; 261 sightings in Oregon; California has had 466 Squatch sightings, but only nine of the critters have ever been reported in the state of Nevada. I couldn’t help but think to myself, “Kinfolk said, Californy is the place you wanna be. If there’s no Sasquatch there, you’ll be oh for gosh darn three.”
Throughout our long drive South along California Highway 139, my painted eyes remained focused on every heavily wooded area we passed. Even though we were 125 miles East of the famous 1967 Patterson-Gimlin Bigfoot film location, I knew in my heart I’d spot one of those big critters as it ran between the trees or tried to cross the road. Unfortunately, like Mighty Casey did in Mudville, even with my best effort, I struck out to end the game.
My disappointment was short-lived, however. At a few minutes before one o’clock, Vicki drove the Jeep across the border and into Nevada, otherwise known as the Silver State. That moment was pure gold because Nevada was my 47th state, with only Arizona, Alaska, and Hawaii left on my ‘bucket list’. And while my chances of spotting a Bigfoot in Nevada was nearly nonexistent, I knew the likelihood of seeing a UFO was great, especially due to the fact Area 51 was only three hundred miles to the South of us.
The three of us had traversed from the densely forested and volcanic region of Oregon and Northern California to the sagebrush-filled mountains and valleys of Northern Nevada. And the closer we got to the Lake Tahoe and Washoe Lake area of the Silver State, the more it felt like we were riding horses on the Cartwright’s Ponderosa Ranch.
The Ponderosa Ranch was a fictitious 640,000-acre spread owned by Ben Cartwright, along with his sons Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe, on the television show Bonanza. But to my photographer, who grew up watching the show during most of his entire childhood, that ranch was more than just a Hollywood set. It was where the Old West came to life during and just after the Civil War. Coincidentally, the show aired one hundred years later, from September 12, 1959 to January 16, 1973.
As we headed towards Carson City and the State Capitol Building, the Old West was once again coming to life right before Tom’s very eyes. My camera guy was no longer looking for Bigfoot but was instead trying to catch a glimpse of Big Hoss and his brothers as they rode through the sagebrush hills on their way towards Virginia City.
There was no doubt in my mind that Tom had planned on walking in the footsteps of the Cartwrights along the dusty streets of Virginia City, and that was great because I wanted to see the historic town he’s been talking about as well. But Ben Cartwright and his sons would have to wait as my photographer was focused on our first stop of the day – the Nevada State Capitol Building in Carson City, which would be the Southernmost point of our trip.
Seven years after Nevada was admitted into the Union on October 31, 1864, construction on the State Capitol was completed and the building was open for legislative business. I was anxious to explore the grounds and see the building because it would be the 42nd State Capitol Building I’ve had the honor of seeing. My unrealistic goal is to visit all 50 State Capitols in our country.
As the three of us rolled into Carson City, I was stunned by the lack of tall buildings. In fact, I wasn’t sure we had arrived at Nevada’s Capital City, until I noticed the silver-colored dome rising up slightly above the treetops. Carson City appeared quaint and was nestled in a valley between the mountains of the Carson Range, which was part of the larger Sierra Nevada Range.
The clock struck two o’clock in the afternoon when my photographer’s wife found parking along North Carson Street, which put us alongside the gated grounds known as The Plaza. Surprisingly, we were less than a hundred yards from the historic building, and yet the 112-foot-tall Capitol with its tin-plated steel dome was nearly completely hidden from view due to the countless number of tall trees. I immediately wondered if Tom would have a problem finding an unobstructed view of the building where he could snap a photo of me. It would be a huge disappointment if I couldn’t pose near the front entrance, especially since that’s where President Theodore Roosevelt had delivered a speech on May 19, 1903.
In April 1903, President Roosevelt embarked on a 66-day, 14,000-mile journey by train across the Western United States. TR dubbed his adventure “The Great Loop Tour”, which took him to 25 different states – including a stop in Carson City, Nevada. Although the ambitious trip was not a campaign tour, it was a way for the President to connect with citizens and promote his vision for the country.
Once on the grounds, Tom carried me up a paved walkway that led us towards the building – or at least we hoped it was leading us towards the Capitol. The trees were so thick, I wondered if a Sasquatch might jump out and surprise us. But when the two of us reached the area directly in front of the building, everything opened up and we had our first clear view of the sandstone structure, which was a huge relief. Initially, I had mixed emotions when I saw the Capitol and quickly ranked the structure as one of the worst State Capitol Buildings I had ever seen; perhaps second only to the Capitol of New Mexico. But when my photographer placed me very close to the spot where President Roosevelt stood in 1903 when he spoke to the citizens of Carson City, all of my disdain had vanished. This was no longer just a State Capitol Building, at least not to Tom and me. Instead, the building was a Presidential site, and I was standing in the footsteps of one of the greatest Presidents in American history.
During his short address from the steps of the State Capitol Building, President Roosevelt emphasized the importance of hard work, irrigation, and the positive contributions of the state’s pioneers. Roosevelt took particular pleasure in seeing the children of Nevada, then he continued his speech by praising the virtue of men who toiled and faced risks in their lives, emphasizing that honest, hard work was a hallmark of good citizenship.
After I posed for a few photos near the steps of the Capitol, the two of us were pleasantly surprised when we learned the interior of building was open for self-guided tours on that Saturday afternoon. Like I’ve said many times in the past, the word “self-guided” is always music to my resin ears.
While the exterior of the Capitol was lackluster, except for the Roosevelt connection, the interior wasn’t much better. There was no Rotunda beneath the dome; the interior architecture seemed mundane; and the original Senate Chamber had been turned into a half-assed museum filled with uninspiring artifacts.
Then suddenly, as Tom searched a corridor for a water fountain, he stopped dead in his tracks. For what did my photographer see before us, situated within a plexiglass case? It was an elk horn chair owned by Governor John Sparks and used by President Theodore Roosevelt during his 1903 visit. Although the plexiglass barrier kept me from posing on the chair, I couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable it must’ve been for TR to sit on that darned thing. Earlier in the year, I had stood on the elk horn chair at Rutherford B. Hayes’ mansion Spiegel Grove, and that chair was far more comfortable than the monstrosity in front of me.
Our self-guided tour of the Nevada State Capitol Building had finished at 2:45pm, which was a bitter-sweet moment for Tom and me. The grounds of the Capitol in Carson City had marked the southernmost point of our trip, and when we made the short walk back to the Jeep, it was time to start our incredibly long 2,225-mile journey back home. Luckily for Vicki and me, my photographer had no intentions on making the journey a non-stop trip. As a matter of fact, we had made it only a mile North of the Capitol when my companions decided to stop at the Carson Antiques and Collectibles Mall, which put a huge smile on Vicki’s face.
Tom brought me inside the large antique store where the two of searched for his usual array of collectibles, such as KISS vinyl albums, sports memorabilia, and Presidential artifacts. Although my camera guy left the antique store emptyhanded, which was no surprise, the two of us did see a few items that piqued our interest.
When our shopping adventure had finished, Tom and I met up with Vicki in the parking lot where we “saddled up” and headed for Virginia City. Throughout the 16-mile drive from Carson City to the historic mining town, I listened as my photographer reminisced about watching Bonanza on TV during his childhood. He not only talked about the Cartwright’s Ponderosa Ranch, but also how much time Ben, Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe spent in Virginia City, which was the closest town to their ranch. For most of our half hour drive, I envisioned myself posing on the dusty street in the middle of Virginia City as horses galloped past me. I also hoped to see Sheriff Roy Coffee walking with the Cartwright’s into the nearest saloon for a drink.
The mountainous, sagebrush-filled terrain along the route was very scenic, and the winding, two-lane highway took us through some small towns with interesting names, such as Silver City, Devils Gate, and Gold Hill. Although some of those towns looked like their better days were well behind them, I knew in my resin heart Virginia City would be a memorable experience – especially for my Bonanza-loving photographer.
By four o’clock, Tom and I were on pins and needles as Vicki drove the Jeep slowly up C Street, which was the main drag through downtown Virginia City. As I looked out of our vehicle’s window, however, I saw no horses, no gunslingers, and there was no hide nor hair of the famous Cartwrights anywhere in sight. As a matter of fact, the highly anticipated dusty, dirty street I expected to see was a two-lane paved road, and the entire town looked extremely touristy. Virginia City reminded me of a scene in the movie Vacation when the Griswold’s arrived in Dodge City. I also wondered whether or not Tom would impersonate Clark W. Griswold and walk into the nearest saloon to order some “red eyes” from the ornery bartender.
Little did I know, however, that my wily old camera guy had something else up his sleeve in Virginia City. Although it was true Tom wanted to visit the historic mining town because it was featured in many of the Bonanza episodes during the show’s 14-season run, my photographer’s main focus was centered on a “lady of the night” named Rosie. I wasn’t sure, but I wondered if the animalistic noises Tom heard the previous night in our motel room had given him some ideas.
Vicki found a place to park along C Street on the opposite side of the road from the historic Old Washoe Club. That social club was built in 1875 during the Comstock Lode silver mining boom and served the wealthy elite. The Washoe was not only reputed to be haunted, but it was once allegedly visited by President Ulysses S. Grant during a three-day visit in October 1879.
Since Tom had no photographic evidence of Grant’s visit to the Old Washoe Club, he had me pose in front of the building without ever stepping foot inside. I believe the main reason we didn’t enter that club was because my photographer had his sights set on another place. He wanted to visit The Silver Queen Hotel & Saloon, which was located about a block further down the street, and was the hotel where Rosie hangs out.
On our way to the Silver Queen, the three of us walked along a sidewalk that had been covered with uneven boards to give it an authentic Old Western feel. When my photographer nearly stumbled a couple of times on the hazardous boardwalk, I thought the sidewalk had an Old Geezer feel instead.
When Tom forced me to pose in front of the Silver Queen, I had hoped Sheriff Roy Coffee would appear out of nowhere, or perhaps I’d see the Cartwright brothers as they rode towards me on horseback. But instead, I was nearly run over by a guy drinking coffee as he drove his Ford Mustang past the historic hotel.
The Silver Queen Hotel was built in 1876 and is the oldest hotel in Virginia City. During one cold winter, a section of the hotel hosted a temporary morgue. And like most of the Virginia City hotels during the mining boom in the mid-to-late-1800s, the Silver Queen served as a brothel as well. Although the building has been restored over the years, it does not offer modern amenities — such as elevators, air conditioners, televisions, and Wi-Fi — all with the goal to maintain a historical ambience.
One piece of historical ambience that allegedly still remains was Rosie, a prostitute who some claimed slit her wrists in Room 11 and died in the bathtub. Today, guests of Room 11 claim to hear footsteps in the night; the sound of a crying woman; and other mysterious and unexplained noises. That made me wonder whether or not Rosie was staying in our Oregon hotel the previous night, because I heard similar noises as well.
Shortly after the three of us walked through doors of the saloon, my thirsty photographer headed for the bar to get something to drink. Seconds after our “Clark Griswold” bellied up to the bar, I heard him say, “Set us up with a couple of red eyes, will ya?” The “red eyes” turned out to be a couple bottles of Michelob Ultra, Tom and Vick’s adult beverages of choice.
While Tom and his wife enjoyed their ice-cold beer, I heard my photographer axe the bartender about paranormal activity in the hotel. Without hesitation, the woman said the Silver Queen Hotel was the most haunted place in Nevada and several television shows, including the Travel Channel’s Ghost Adventures, have investigated the hotel and found activity in Room 11. Since my companions hadn’t yet made reservations for that night, my adventurous cameraman inquired about the availability of Room 11.
I was relieved, and disappointed at the same time, when the bartender said the haunted room was already occupied for the night. Then she added, “If you want to go up the steep stairs, you can walk around the hallway outside of the room. You never know what, or who, you might run into up there. All I ask is that you not knock on the door and disturb the guests.”
My photographer finished his beer, snatched me from the bar, and the three of us headed for the hotel’s staircase. As soon as I got a glimpse of that staircase, I realized the bartender had understated its steepness. Thankfully, each of the twenty-plus steps were carpeted; I figured if I slipped from Tom’s hand, I might have a chance to survive the fall.
Slowly we ascended, step by step. Several times during our way up the staircase I heard my photographer’s knees make a cracking sound, but he continued the steep climb. My senses were on high alert for any paranormal activity – I wondered whether or not Rosie would come out of her room to greet me.
Finally, we made it to the carpeted main corridor of the second floor, which was when I saw the number ’11’ on one of the doors. Without hesitation, Tom placed me on the floor next to the haunted room’s door. It’s hard to describe, but the intense and eerie quietness of the moment filled my entire resin body with a sense of uneasiness. I’m not sure if my anxiety was due to the possibility of seeing a ghost, or because I was about to meet my first prostitute. I looked down the hallway in both directions with the hope of spotting an apparition or unexplained shadow, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. We spent nearly ten minutes on the second floor of the Silver Queen Hotel, and Rosie was nowhere to be found. And neither was Adam, Hoss, or Little Joe!
Back outside in the late afternoon heat, the three of us reluctantly headed for the Jeep along the uneven boardwalk. While Tom and I had high expectations for Virginia City, mainly because of its Bonanza and paranormal connections, we rolled out of town disappointed in the touristy atmosphere. In fact, I had an empty feeling in the pit of my resin stomach. In fact, when we left that Old West mining town behind, I knew exactly how Hoss Cartwright felt when Hop Sing didn’t make enough chop suey for dinner at the Ponderosa.
Fifty miles North of Virginia City, just before we reached Interstate 80, Vicki pulled into a service station for gas. Although the fuel in Fernley, Nevada wasn’t cheap, the $3.60 per gallon price was a lot better than the nearly five bucks per gallon we saw a few hours earlier in California. While my photographer pumped gas into our thirsty Grand Cherokee, his wife made reservations at a hotel in Winnemucca, which was still about 130 miles away.
The two-hour drive on the ‘Cowboy Corridor’ through the Great Basin of Northern Nevada was fairly lackluster, with only an occasional small mountain range to break up the monotony. I tried to break up the boredom by looking for unidentifiable flying objects, but that search went by the wayside, the same as my quest to see a Sasquatch in the Pacific Northwest.
When we made it to Winnemucca at roughly 7:40pm, it was one of the latest evening arrivals of our trip thus far. In an effort to save some time, as my two companions were very weary from a long day on the road, Tom and Vicki picked up some Kentucky Fried Chicken and brought it to the motel.
My first thought when I saw the Holiday Motel in Winnemucca was of disbelief. I think my photographer was a bit dumbfounded as well when he saw the place, but when his wife mentioned it was a lot less expensive than the nearby Holiday Inn Express and Fairfield by Marriot, my cheapskate friend changed his tune.
Once Vicki had registered, my two companions lugged their belongings into our lower-level room. We didn’t need a luggage cart because our Jeep was backed up to the exterior doorway of the old-style motel.
Seconds after Tom carried me into our room, I thought we had been transported back in time to the 1970s, even though there was a flat screen television set for me to stand alongside. Once in place, I had the pleasure of watching my camera guy devour his meal of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and coleslaw; or what I called the “usual fixins from KFC”.
With his belly full of “finger lickin’ good” yard bird, Tom and I watched a couple episodes of Seinfeld while Vicki was mesmerized by Instagram on her phone. At 9:45pm, the lights in the room went off and I was left in the darkness with only my vivid imagination to keep me company.
Suddenly, in my mind’s eye, I saw myself walking across C Street to see Rosie at the nearby Silver Queen Hotel. Then out of nowhere, when I made it to the middle of the street, I heard the melodic voice of an entity, dressed in a white suit, who walked directly ahead of me. Was the spirit singing about me? Likely, because the words I heard were, “Got to be good-lookin’ ’cause he’s so hard to see. Come together, right now; over me.”
