THE VEGA$ CLUB Goes North!

In 1985 I left Orange County (aka The O.C.) to go to school up in Stockton, California at the University of the Pacific. This put a bit of a damper on VEGA$ CLUB activities, but Roger, Charley, and Leung were able to make several road trips up to see me, which was good. Inevitably the topic of gambling came up and led to a few trips to nearby Reno and Tahoe. Tahoe was beautiful and all, but in the winter time it was pretty treacherous to get to, and Reno offered more gambling opportunities, and really cheap rooms!

One such trip to Reno had been planned for a couple weeks, we had reservations at Circus Circus Reno (ugh), and unfortunately there was snow in the forecast. A little bad weather wasn’t about to stop us from a fun weekend in “The Biggest Little City in the World”. We stopped at a local Kragen, and got a set of chains for Roger’s VW Jetta, and we were off!

Somewhere this side of Truckee it started snowing, and shortly we were directed to the side of the road to install our chains. None of us had ever put them on before. It was really cold, so I stayed in the car while Roger and Charley put the chains on, and we were back on the road. It seemed very noisy, and we weren’t really able to go any faster than 45 or so, but what the hell did we know, maybe this was normal? As we began to descend from the Sierra Nevadas the snow turned into torrential rain, and we were informed that we were leaving the “Chains Required” area. This time it was REALLY wet and muddy, so I again stayed in the car while Roger and Charley removed the chains. It wasn’t until we parked the car in the Circus Circus parking garage that we noticed that a strand of the right front chain had come loose during the trek, scraping a semi-circle of paint from Roger’s fender! The storm increased in ferocity through the night, forcing us to spend the evening at the “Pinkest Casino in Northern Nevada”, only adding fuel to my coulrophobia. When we got bored with the gambling, we took a walk through the circus midway, gawking at the carnies etc. We played a few games, including the one where you shoot water into the clown’s mouth, inflating a balloon attached to the clown’s head. At the end of the night, we had each won at least one troll doll. Speaking for myself, I continue to treasure my little guy (I call him Keith).

The next morning we turned on the TV news, only to find that there was no end in sight for the storm. Interstate 80 had been closed overnight until further notice, and the Truckee River was in danger of overflowing its banks. This was a Saturday. I had to be back at school on Monday, and the others had to be back at work. With I-80 out of commission, getting back to Stockton by car was out of the question. Roger, Charley, and Leung got out the map and plotted a course back to Orange County (via Las Vegas, of course) and I got on the phone to American Airlines and reserved a seat on the next day’s Reno to Stockton flight. Things seemed more or less under control, so we bundled up and hit the town! The breeching of the Truckee River seemed to be the hot topic of conversation around town. Being accustomed to gambling in the blistering heat of VEGA$, it was a nice change to frolic in the fiercely cold freezing rain. I specifically remember sitting at a 50¢ roulette wheel at the Cal/Neva club that day, and watching workers seal up the entrances with sand bags. That’s when I began to be concerned with this whole Truckee River thing.

Reno reminds me of a slightly older, somewhat seedier, downtown Las Vegas. It obviously doesn’t have as much money, although Harrah’s and the Hilton are pretty nice. It’s telling that the huge expansion of Las Vegas in the 90’s didn’t make up to Reno, and Reno never experienced the Steve Wynn-ification and maintains an old western charm.

The next day, we packed up the damaged Jetta and said goodbye to the soggy Circus Circus. It was still raining hard, but apparently the Truckee River was no longer in danger of flooding the town. The boys dropped me off at the airport, and were off. I waited my turn at the check in counter. When my turn came the clerk looked up my reservation number, and said, “Oh, it looks like you cancelled this!” I most certainly had NOT cancelled my only way out of town! We went back and forth for a while, and finally determined that I was supposed to have come to the airport the day before to purchase the ticket. They had neglected to tell me that. I said, “They told me on the phone that I could buy the ticket when I got to the airport!” Of course the flight was full, but not having anywhere else to go, I stood my ground and kept repeating, “They told me on the phone that I could buy the ticket when I got to the airport!”. Finally, she took pity, booked me on a flight to San Francisco, with a connecting flight back to Stockton. I was elated! The night after I got back to my dorm room, I got a call from the boys who had managed to get a huge suite at the Holiday Casino (now Harrah’s) Charley was talking to me from the phone by the toilet!

Looking back, it was a memorable trip, but I sure didn’t like the feeling of being stranded in Reno with no money, no airplane ticket, and no vacancies!