When You Call Me That, Smile

The Trucker planned a stop this afternoon at the Historic Virginian Hotel in Medicine Bow, Wyoming.  His Passenger would have foregone the food just to explore!  

The kitchen is modern, and the eating area resembles a diner.  The staff is very casual; if they forget part of an order, or a refill, diners stand up and holler.  The soup is self serve, the salads looked yummy, though the salad bar was non-existent today.  Our waiter was a courteous young man in sweatpants and a football jersey.

But the decor and furnishings were Victorian, original, authentic, and very "busy."

The front of the old hotel. Diners enter the second door from the left.

Built in 1911, it still offers Old West hospitality.  It is on the National Register of Historic places.  In the day, it was the largest hotel between Denver, Colorado and Salt Lake City, Utah.

Wikipedia informs me,

The original building is a 3½ story structure.  It is constructed of concrete blocks containing sand drawn from the Medicine Bow River and fashioned at the building site. Along with the significance of the size and architecture of the hotel, it boasts the first electric lights and sewer in town.

The hotel proper is papered in Victorian gold and burgundy medallion wallpaper, has velvet draperies and pressed tin on its 12 foot high ceilings.  The main floor has an "Eating House," the formal "Owen Wister Dining Room," and the "Shiloh Saloon," which still has bullet holes riddled throughout to remind guests of some past shootout.  The rooms have antique brass beds, tulip-shape lights are still heated by steam radiators. Only the suites have private baths, replete with claw foot bathtubs. The other rooms have access to separate bath facilities located in the halls.  True to its time, the rooms in the original hotel do not have modern amenities such as telephones or televisions.

The name is derived from that classic novel, The Virginian, by Owen Wister.  Did Owen Wister ever stay there?  I could not find confirmation of that, though the largest and grandest suite in the hotel is named after him, and appears to be set up for the convenience of a writer.  The Trucker seems to remember his name on the register, and a plaque stating that he did indeed.

The Owen Wister Suite, camera glare notwithstanding.

Those floor to ceiling windows were

wonderful.

The only accommodation in the 

place with a desk.

A closeup of the vintage Victrola.

The bed, with period linens, listing slightly to

the south.  Would not have wanted to Trucker

 to try it!  All beds were single or double size.

The private bath, a plumber's nightmare!

A small sink behind the door.  No space to spare

in these rooms.  Folk must have been smaller back

in the day!

Every room had doors to the adjoining 

rooms on either side  

This room, however, was part of the Owen Wister 

Suite.  The door shown led back into the hall.  All 

rooms had three doors.  One on each side, and one

 to the hall.  Add a large window on the fourth wall,

 and fitting furniture into these tiny spaces led to 

some interesting arrangements!

This one had a vintage Singer (just like mine!)

 tucked behind a door.  Wonder if Owen Wister 

did his own mending?

No AC, but the screened windows could be 

opened at will to admit the dust, heat, and 

noise of the street outside.  And the trains

whistled and roared through town three

times every hour.

The Trucker has read The Virginian several times over the years, and a copy resides on his office shelf.  This experience brought new visuals to the story.

And the quote?  "When you call me that, smile."

It seems that was a phrase an acquaintance of The Virginian was wont to use; he and only he, could get away with using it.  Any other man would risk death.  In the story, another man did.  "When you call me that, smile," The Virginian told this man, presumably so he could discern how the statement was intended.

This Passenger was smiling.  She absolutely loved the stop, the tour, the experience.  In addition to the surprise, as the Trucker had not told her to expect this, and indeed she did not know it existed!  And, he patiently gave her all the time she wished to explore.

The only thing needed was period dress.  Jeans and flip flops just didn't quite mesh with the surroundings.  Oh, and maybe a shootout or two.  Owen Wister's suite was just above the bar, after all.  Maybe he did his best writing, waiting for the 2AM closing time?