We cruised along for another several
billion flat straight Nevada miles until, off the left side of the highway, appeared an Olympia beer neon sign. The Ford van immediately veered in that direction, its occupants hugely thirsty. We bellied up to the bar in anticipation of buying a few cold ones. Suddenly indecently-clad girls appeared, apparently bent on obtaining our affections. We thought we had died and gone to Heaven, all this sudden and beautiful female attention with Oly on tap, but it turns out we had arrived at the Cottontail Ranch, Nevada’s famous house of ill repute. We paid several thousand dollars for a few cases of Olympia beer but not without getting a business card. If you wanted to call the Cottontail, the telephone number was Goldfields 3. You have to call the Operator to get the call plugged through —
David Bond
/
Silver Valley Mining Journal
.
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