Cottonwood Cove, a respite from the heat in Nevada

Entrance to Cottonwood Cove via the town of Searchlight, Nevada

One of the most memorable aspects of traveling is not the places visited, though that has a lot to do with the traveling, but the people you meet along the way.

I’ve been fortunate to meet famous folks, ordinary folks, and sometimes some unsavory folks along the byways. But all were wonderful in their own right.

Laureen, my lovely wife, and I decided recently to boat up to Cottonwood Cove Resort and Marina on Lake Mohave, approximately 35 miles north of Davis Dam on the Nevada side of the lake. We would leisurely cruise the blue waters of the Colorado River and spend the night at the Cottonwood Cove Motel along the shores of the marina.

Beautiful view of Lake Mohave from Cottonwood Cove

A wonderful way to spend a weekend. Sun, fun, and burning through a whole lot of fuel which made my wallet feel a lot lighter when we docked at the marina gas station.

“I bet we’re still a buck cheaper than Katherine Landing,” a young man said while pumping fuel into the tank on our boat.

“Yes, you are,” I replied not feeling any more chipper as I handed him a hundred and received no change back.

“Did you bring snacks?” I asked Laureen. “I don’t think we can afford the cafe for dinner.”

The winds had picked up about halfway along the trip and the lake often looked like a churning clothes washer. But we were out in the fresh air, tunes blasting away on the pontoon, and getting splashed by cold lake water was just part of the adventure.

Even with some pretty rough water, we made Cottonwood Cover in a little less than two hours and decided to chug further north to Nelson’s Landing on the Nevada side of the lake.

And this is where we encountered two young men who were in desperate need of help.

I wrote about the tragedy that had taken place on September 14th, 1974 when a monsoon west of the landing created a sudden flood which led to a 40-foot wave of water roaring through Nelson’s Landing, killing nine people.

Nelson Landing along the Colorado River

We had only seen the beach from the land and decided to take a gander at the site from the water's edge.

As we slowly pulled into the cove, which was packed with swimmers, Laureen noticed a young man frantically waving a white Frisbee at us.

I waved back.

“I believe he wants to talk to us,” Laureen said, with a slight shaking of her head in my direction.

Turns out two of their friends had paddled across the lake to the Arizona side, about a mile or more in distance, and had not returned. The choice of craft for the adventurers to cross some pretty rough water was a small inflatable raft with two short plastic paddles.

“It’s an orange raft and we lost sight of them,” the Frisbee-waving twenty-something yelled out to us from his perch on a high cliff.

A young woman beside him asked if we would mind going and looking for them. And off we went across the lake in search of a small orange raft.

Fast forward to the end.  We did locate the two boys on the Arizona side - Gavin and Westin - hefted the raft and them aboard our boat and drove them back across the lake to their very relieved friends on shore.

“I think I underestimated the river,” Gavin stated.

“Lots of folks do,” I replied, while Laureen draped a towel over Westin’s shivering shoulders. It may have been early May and the sun beaming from above but the water temperature is still in the mid-60s, which is pretty chilly when a person has been hanging onto the side of a flimsy raft for hours. 

We dropped the guys off and waved goodbye. Laureen laughed and asked if I had seen the t-shirt the girl had been wearing.

A white t-shirt with an arrow pointing to the left with the words, ‘I’m with stupid.’

“Probably should have made it plural,” I replied. Oh, the irony.

Actually, the two young men were just inexperienced. They were also very nice and appreciative. They wanted to know how they could repay us for saving them. Simple I advised, if they were ever out boating, return the favor and help someone else in need.

Good Karma is needed when on the water.

Nelson Landing, packed with sun worshipers

After doing our good deed for the day, we returned to Cottonwood Cove, tied off at a courtesy dock, and went to the store to see about a guest boat slip for the night.

And this is where we met a woman with an incredible sense of humor, by the name of Hope Full. “Yes, that’s my name.”

“Well, in that case, we are hopeful that a slip is available,” I replied.

“Never heard that one before,” Hope said, rolling her eyes just a bit. “Yes, Lisa called us this morning from Boulder Beach and reserved one for you.”

At this time, the manager came over and introduced himself. “I’m Mark Anthony, we exchanged emails about your trip here.”

Laureen turned her back to me. “Don’t say it.”

I smiled, “Is Cleopatra around?”

“Never heard that one before,” Mark said.

Mark is the manager at the resort and we did share some emails about Laureen’s and my plans for the weekend. He was awesome, as well as the entire team at Cottonwood Cove - helping us with anything we needed.

But this was not just a mini-vacation destination, there is a truly interesting history of this place.

Once long ago there, was a rather large island in the middle of the Colorado River named Cottonwood Island. This was before dams were built on the Colorado, forming Lake Mead, Lake Mohave, and Lake Havasu when steamboats navigated the wide river for nearly 500 miles. 

According to the-wandering.com, the island measured nearly ten miles long and three miles wide with a huge concentration of cottonwood trees. The river flowed around the island making access to it rather easy from either shore - Nevada or Arizona.

The Mohave people used the island for agriculture. Then mining began in the 1860s, and the cottonwood trees were felled to sell to the steamboats for fuel making their way to the local mining areas, bringing supplies and retrieving the ore for the smelters down south.

In 1867, the military placed a small outpost on the island to raise cattle, but in the same year, a flood wiped the camp out and drowned all the cattle. That experiment was not tried again, though miners would still graze their cattle from time to time on the island.

Eventually, with the construction of Davis Dam and the creation of Lake Mohave in 1951, the island disappeared for good under the blue waters. Nothing can be seen of this once popular and historic land mass.

We wandered a bit before our motel room was ready and saw families with and without boats enjoying the warm afternoon weather while taking dips in the cool waters along the two swimming areas near the marina.

The Cottonwood Cove Motel, plenty of room for guests

This resort within the Lake Mead National Recreation Area has something for everyone - though I still get confused with the name of the place, since we were on Lake Mohave. A large campground is available for those coming east from Searchlight, a cafe, general store, motel, houseboat rentals for long and short term, hiking trails galore and so much more.

Gorgeous beaches gazing over at the marinas

Cottonwood Cove was part of the Mission 66 project which was started by the National Park Service in 1955 as a way to enhance visitors' outdoor experience and originally followed Route 66 when more and more people hit the roads in their own jalopies. 

After checking into our room, we opted for an early dinner at the cafe, and as I sat looking out across the sandy beach, the softly blowing tall palm trees, the sparkling blue waters I knew what I was going to order.

“What are you having?” Laureen asked.

“No choice but to follow Jimmy Buffet’s advice,” I said. “A cheeseburger in paradise.”

And I did.

For more information: https://cottonwoodcoveresort.com/

Happy Fourth of July

 We want to wish all Americans a wonderful and safe 4th of July, and to remember all the tribulations and sacrifices the Founding Father's went through to make the United States the most prosperous country of all time. Of course, as always we want to send our heartfelt thanks to our military - past and present who maintain that freedom we all our so grateful for.

God Bless this land of the free.

Pioneer Town, where western history comes alive

 Pioneertown is known for its marvelous western facades, dirt main street, hitching posts, wooden sidewalks, and dozens of films, television series, and music videos that have been shot there over the decades.

From films like The Gay Amigo in 1949, and The Last of the Pony Riders in 1952, to more modern films such as The Gambler in 2014, and Ingrid Goes West in 2017, this modern-day ghost town has the perfect Old West ambiance.

Of course, two of my favorite music videos were shot there. The 2010, I Rep That West, by Ice Cube tops the list. Nothing better than a rapper riding into a hot dusty western town in a beautiful convertible lowrider surrounded by horses and townsfolk. Or, the 2016 hit by Cyndi Lauper, Funnel of Love, filmed in and around the town with a special appearance inside Pappy and Harriet’s.

The iconic Pappy and Harriet's in Pioneertown

A pink-haired cowgirl with a Brooklyn accent says it all when it comes to authentic Americana.

“Hey yuz guys,” Lauper may have said when finished with the filming. “Anyone know where I can get a friggin’ cannoli in these here parts?”

Of course, one film not listed among dozens is the one Laureen, my lovely wife, and I were in nearly ten years ago. We had bit parts about something to do with the West and a bunch of bad hombres - but when the film was completed and in the can, it never came back out.

I called my agent. “Look, Johnny Baby, the film was so bad that it was declared a national disaster. Find another career.”

“How about writing a travel column?”

A snicker came over the phone. “I’m sure that will pan out. Lose my number.”

Recently, I pulled on my Tony Lama lizard skin two-inch heeled cowboy boots, snugged up the emerald buckled three-inch wide belt through the loops of my Wranglers, knotted the bolo tie just right around the collar of my Rockmount shirt, donned my ten-gallon Stetson, and walked down the main street in Pioneertown.

Luckily it was very early in the morning and no one was around, or I may not have been able to escape with that outfit on.

Nope, Pioneertown revels in the realism of what life was like in the Old West days and did not need some big city dandy wandering around.

Back in the day, that would be right after the ending of World War II, a man by the name of Dick Curtis had a dream.

“I want to create a living, breathing movie set to shoot good Western movies,” he may have said.

In 1946, Curtis was able to wrangle 17 cowpokes to pony up the cash to fund the purchase of 32,000 acres of land just a few miles from the small town of Yucca Valley. Some of those involved included Roy Rogers, Bud Abbott, and others who bought into Curtis’s idea, and soon the place that would be known as Pioneertown was founded.

But, friends of Roy Rogers had wanted to name the place, Rogersville.

It is rumored that Roy himself said, “Rogersville, seriously? How about Evansplace?” 

To settle the matter, after a few rounds of arm wrestling, and a song written by Tim Spenser called ‘Out of Pioneertown,’ the eventual name of simply Pioneertown took hold.

A French couple was walking down Main Street and smiled at me while I tried not to topple over in the high-heeled boots I had worn. I could tell they were very excited about traipsing through such a rich movie history that Pioneertown offered.

The woman looked at her male companion and said in French, “Il a l’air ridicule.”

Since my French is very limited, I am sure she was talking about how every building along Main Street was very authentic and painstakingly constructed to resemble those that would have been found around the 1880s in the west of the United States.

I smiled and said, “Oui, oui.”

The male nodded and said, “C’est un idiot.”

Which I took as meaning what idiot would not want to visit Pioneertown while on holiday from a country boasting about eating snails and attending operas written by Ravel?

Pioneertown was not just a movie backdrop to film western films, it actually was a fully functioning community when completed in the late 1940s.

There was a grocery, a motel, the Red Dog Saloon (still in use today), restaurants, an ice cream store, a bowling alley (also still in use today), and other businesses that were functioning and making a profit - including a newspaper: the Pioneertown Gazette.

Lots of places for photo ops in Pioneertown

Non-movie types could purchase an acre of land with full utilities for as little as $900, which would be in today's dollars about a million buckaroos. 

Soon trouble was a-brewing for Pioneertown when in 1948 Dick Curtis stepped down as President of the corporation in protest over the decision made to cater more to Hollywood than to making Pioneertown a truly independent community.

In a rather strange set of realities, both the land sales and movie production dropped off until a producer by the name of Philip N. Krasne stepped up.

He was the bigwig producing the very popular television series, The Cisco Kid, starring Duncan Renaldo, which ran for six seasons.

Krasne saw the potential of Pioneertown. So much so that he signed a 25-year lease which again put the western town back on the map for both locals, tourists, and those cigar-smoking Hollywood big shots.

As I teetered through the town on this early morning, I was, as always, impressed at the care each structure along Main Street gets to ensure that anyone viewing the buildings truly believes they have traveled back in time. It is hard not to imagine this town was not a rootin' tootin' cow-punching, cow-poking sort of town.

Any moment I was expecting a drunk cowhand to exit the Red Dog Saloon, spit into the street, and grin at me.

“Hey, lookey,” he may have said. “We gots us a real live cow dude.”

Though it was early and nothing was open for visitors, there is a lot to offer while visiting Pioneertown.

Of course, there is the famous Pappy and Harriet’s Pioneertown Palace which serves amazing food and drinks, as well as live music on various days of the week.

There is the Custom Leather and Saddle Shop where I actually did purchase a gun holster and belt in the years past. The Pottery Shop offers handmade pottery and a visitor can watch as these products are produced. There is an art studio where folks can dress up in historically accurate clothing for the time period and have their photograph taken.

And as mentioned, the Red Dog Saloon not only offers dining options but adult libations to boot. There is a large barn soundstage that can be rented out and occasionally offers live performances.

The Red Dog Saloon in Pioneertown

The main street offers photo opportunities galore for those who want to immortalize their visit and share on Instagram, Facebook, X, or whatever social media a person wants to utilize to show their friends and strangers they are in Pioneertown.

A perfect backdrop for western films at Pioneertown

There is the Bath House facade, the Jail facade, the Jack Cass Saloon facade, and many more for those picture-perfect moments. My favorite is the facade facade.

Pioneertown, a place for gunslingers

There is the Pioneertown Motel which offers plenty of rooms for those traveling for a night or two, as well as local Airbnbs to accommodate any traveler. And, there is camping available in the town itself.

With the beautiful mountains and valleys nearby, there is nothing but natural wonder surrounding Pioneertown - as well as the Joshua Tree National Park within half an hour's easy drive.

And of course, there is always entertainment awaiting the visit to Pioneertown on the weekends with old west shootouts along Mane Street.

What would be an old west town without hombres and sheriffs shooting the town up at scheduled hours for the tourists?

I’m sure my French friends in Pioneertown would have exclaimed, “Pas possible,” to that question.

For more information: https://visitpioneertown.com/