Talk:Winnemucca Hotel

Worst Motel Ever

The Topic of discussion is What is the WORST motel you EVER spent a night in, in your whole entire life?

Hotel Winnemucca. It's in Winnemucca, Nevada. The year was 1998. My age was (then) 40. It was early in the month of May. I was on my motorcycle, East-Bound on I-80, from San Francisco, with stops in Reno, Denver, Dallas, Tallahassee, then home to Cape Canaveral, FL The motorcycle was a 1982 Honda, CM-450-cc Custom, 2-Tone blue, 2 cylinder. Air-Cooled. Factory Built-In Oil cooler. Chain-Driven. Mag Wheels. 16" in the back; 18" in the front. Sorry, this is about louzy Motel, not motorcycles!

I was East-Bound on I-80, nearing the end of the day, but hoping to do a few more miles, when for an unknown reason, the interstate was CLOSED. Everyone had to exit. So, might as well call it a day, and check into a motel for the night. Sad (very tragic) I passed up a couple of seemingly nice reasonable motels, for the absolute cheapEST one I could find. Budget allowed $20 / night, and Hotel Winnemucca was $14, so I was happy!

It wasn't the hole in the ceiling that bothered me, nor the snow that fell into my room on me. It wasn't the stench of cigarettes on the bedspread, nor the cigarette holes in the sheets. It wasn't the fact the window wouldn't close, and 30 degree air could blow (or leak) in. I could sleep in my thermal underwear, which I wore for cold weather riding. The hotel had heat, so my room as certainly warmer than outside. It wasn't the fear of having my motorcycle stolen or vandalized. Motorcycles need a key to operate. I only planned 1 night there, and I figured it would take the local bums, crooks, and alcoholics 2 nights to discover my motorcycle. My figuring was correct. The one thing that annoyed me, was the chirping of the smoke detector. I went downstairs to the bartender who checked me in, but he was nowhere to be found, because he figured I had a complaint, and he wasn't in the mood to hear (any) complaints. I wasn't about to use the nauseously filthy community bathroom at the end of the hallway. Me? One night with no bathroom = No Problem.

It's the image that sticks in my mind, of the drunk Indian (sorry, native American) walking up the stairs. There were about 25 steps, in one straight line up. The rug was worn beyond threads, with the bare wood showing on all steps. The rug was absolutely filthy, pretty black all the way. Mr. Indian ordered out of a pizza pie, and was carrying it, wobbling up the stairs. I thought to myself, I'd best better stay back, and give him plenty of room to fall, because I just knew he wasn't going to make it all the way up. Sure as shit, 2/3rds of the way up, he began a slow backward fall. His pizza pie went flying, - slices all over the place. Oddly enough, the pizza landed face-up, so still edible. Miraculously, Mr. Indian grabbed the railing, and although he fell, he didn't regress all the way back down to the bottom of the staircase.

The next morning, about 7 - 7:30 AM, everyone was knocking on everyone's door, waking everyone up to go to work, at the local Labor Pool. That's when I too got up, and resumed motorcycling East (on I-80). Actually, with I-80 being closed, (the night before) and all traffic exited, the longer I waited to secure myself a room, the greater the chance I'd never find a vacancy. In retrospect, I should have taken the first, more decent motel I passed, even knowing it would be slightly more expensive.

Casey's worst motel room ever was in the outskirts of New Orleans. I'll let him tell his story, as I'll let each person tell his own story. My 2nd worst motel night was in the outskirts of New Orleans, but relative to Winnemucca, it was heavenly! Oddly enough, for a cheapskate, every other place I ever stayed, passed within reason of acceptable. Surprisingly also, today, Hotel Winnemucca is a restored historical building! Surely everyone has a (some) Winnemucca story.

Now, WHAT was your worst Motel night ever? 2601:582:4600:F3B0:78E5:7238:716B:7EA (talk) 02:42, 4 February 2023 (UTC)