Blogger's Note:
I had initially considered writing about our first dude ranch experience in the lighthearted "Morty" long form that really sets the tone for this site. Thoroughly disgusted however with mismanagement and blatant misrepresentation of the resort in question, I opted to get in touch with the people at Trip Advisor where I posted an accurate picture of what vacationers might experience after emptying their wallets to a dysfunctional family run organization. What follows is a first person review originally submitted to tripadvisor.com shortly after our return home.
Before you check their website, which is a complete and utter fabrication, I am hoping that potential guests of this hellhole will take the time to thoroughly research the establishment. Unfortunately, I was "roped in" (total pun intended) by the slick look of the pictures featured on their site.
We stayed in the "Nevada" section of the building, checking in on 8/22, a date which should also have served as checkout. The room was musty, reeked of mildew, the carpet borderline damp. The furniture, well past its prime was scarred and scratched, while two of the dresser drawers would not open properly. Only a background in physics could help patrons make sense of the bathroom faucets, the sink proving exceptionally dangerous to children who will have a difficult time discerning the hot from the cold settings. The mattress on the bed nearest the window, completely worn on its left half nearly required a side guard to protect the occupant (me) from falling to the floor (the wife always gets the better half). The bed in the middle of the room, while in better shape from a chiropractic standpoint featured a dangerously protruding piece of metal jutting out from the frame; something my wife painfully discovered after scratching her lower thigh. Had she not noticed it first, the potential injury that may have been suffered by an exuberant six year old may have warranted a trip to the emergency room for stitches or worse. The grating on the air conditioner, also past its prime was cracked and crooked. Our traveling companions staying across the hall fared no better. Their air conditioner had no grating to speak of, the wallpaper was peeling, and the mattress on bed number one with its deeply pronounced dip from top to bottom would guarantee multiple trips to a chiropractor most likely followed by back surgery. A dangerously protruding piece of metal on the lower corner of bed number two would most certainly have sent that unsuspecting six year old to the hospital as well. The housekeeping staff while courteous was far from thorough, except in the main lobby area where the overwhelming scent of furniture polish permeated the area. The public bathrooms off the lobby were nearly immaculate, yet take a walk down the dingy hallway past the Food Court and Silver Dollar Saloon to check out the public bathrooms there. Far enough off the beaten path, these two rooms were simply filthy.
The sighting of some type of large rodent running across the downstairs hall from a storeroom to somewhere underneath the hallway stairs was especially repulsive, not to mention beyond disturbing as the area was literally adjacent to the filthy room that passed for a day camp!
I will not go into detail pertaining to the Food Court, as I did not spend a lot of time there. The pizza offerings from the rarely open “Angelo’s” were a far cry from the succulent pie pictured on the official Pinegrove website. While the limited selection of pies were often cooked fresh, the razor thin crust would harden quickly upon egress from what loosely could be considered the oven, the sub standard toppings turning gristly, dry and papery shortly following. The dining room fare was not exactly a step above that of the food court. The limited, unimaginative selections were generally tasteless. Our first dining experience found the prime rib impossibly tough. A buzz saw would not have sufficed! A later attempt at Prime Rib (yes, unbelievably we did remain for the duration of our stay) several days following proved a bit easier to stomach, but cutting around the fat was the equivalent of following an intricate treasure map. The salmon had the consistency of pudding. A brief complaint to our host, the ever-unlikeable “Cowboy Denny,” was merely brushed off with a rudely smug grin and the comment, “There are a lot of ways to cook Salmon.”
Tell it to the “Chef.”
Let’s briefly interrupt the negative with a brief nod to the only positives.
“Tapadero’s,” provided a brief respite from the horrors of the dining room. This small restaurant (another relative term), with its complete lack of ambiance or atmosphere served Italian food cooked fresh to order that was surprisingly edible and tasty.
The horseback riding marks the only reason to even briefly consider a visit here, “brief” being the operative word. The corral staff was friendly, professional and confident, easily placating the fear and uncertainty in first time riders, while capably managing large groups of the un-initiated through their introductory riding experience. The mountain scenery before descending into the twisting wooded trail, while not quite breathtaking is inspiring. These staff members clearly displayed their love for the animals and the job as well. I would have a hard time believing that they were faking it.
“Faking it,” however is where Pinegrove seems to excel. There was little to no semblance of any type of “ranch” experience. Nowhere was there a cowboy in sight. Staff members were adorned in simple polo shirts bearing the logo of this horrific establishment. The pseudo-Vegas style entertainment was passable at best. Jugglers and magicians catered to the pint-sized crowd, while allowing adults a fair amount of genuine laughs. I had a distinct problem with only one of the comedic magicians whose name escapes me for the moment. His risqué sexual and homosexual references while over the heads of the younger ones did not go unnoticed by the pre-teen crowd. It was obvious that he was used to dealing with more of a non-family casino crowd rather than the prisoners held hostage in the “Bullroom.” I call the guests prisoners, because there was literally nothing else to do during Showtime. “Rusty Johnson’s Wildlife Show,” kicking off at 9:30 put most of the younger set to sleep, not a surprise, as it was a bit late for them at this point anyway. This individual’s bland and boring tales of life in far off lands for snakes and alligators was a snooze-fest to put it lightly.
The “Bullroom” really had the capability of being so much more. Why there was never a live band playing country music on the sizeable stage following the lounge acts would almost remain a mystery, yet it did not take much to realize that “management” here was nothing more than selfishly frugal. Granted, not everyone is a country fan, but why not maintain the western illusion even for a brief moment? Upstairs, the “Silver Dollar Saloon” would more aptly have been named “Death Valley” as either no one knew of its existence, nor cared.
Let’s take a trip outside to the pool, where a quick five or ten minutes with a leaf blower and a broom would have done wonders. The leaves and branches that littered one side of the pool deck made walking in bare feet hazardous.
(Anyone up for another trip to the E.R.)?
The white 1980’s era plastic pool furniture stained, uncomfortable and generally filthy followed suit with everything else in the place. The pool slide, the clear highlight for guests of all ages could clearly have been the setting for a catastrophic fall by a child due to missing bars along the upper edge of the stair railing, providing a gaping hole for someone small enough to either step or fall through. The occasional appearance by an inattentive slide attendant at the top who was too busy “texting” to pay attention was simply pointless. Traffic control for the dual slides would have been non-existent had it not been for the help of parents who cared enough to see not only to the safety of their own children, but others as well. The lifeguards appeared bored, restless, and when paired together (rather than having one at the top of the slide) paid more attention to either their cell phones or each other than to the activity happening in the water.
Mere words cannot describe the deplorably horrifying condition of the toddler’s wading pool.
Meanwhile back at the ranch…
Not much had been mentioned about the brown water incident during our unfortunate sentence here. Sometime during the late afternoon of Tuesday August 25th, the water began running brown from sinks and showers alike. Flushing the toilets resulted in a bowl filled with H20 unfit for even the lowliest of fungi. A trip to alert uncaring management poised at the front desk was met with a combination of boredom and annoyance, followed by a clear reluctance to provide additional bottled water to guests who were smart enough to consider utilizing it for the simple everyday function of tooth brushing. Rather than leaving paying customers in the dark, management could have made an effort in alerting the public to the problem while offering an apology for the inconvenience. A simple note on the lobby bulletin board would have sufficed, followed by an update or some type of assurance the following day that the water was once again clean. Of course, it was impossible to tell looking at it running from a rusty faucet into an equally rust stained sink.
Well, to make a long story only a tad bit longer, I would gladly offer up suggestions on how to better utilize the miles of wasted space or manage time between shows and activities, but as I have no plan whatsoever on returning to this pit, I will follow management’s lead and not make the effort.
Returning briefly to the utter fabrication of their website, pay little attention to any of the remaining pictures of cowboys, the dining room, guest accommodations or food. The mouth-watering barbecue shots are either old, or a blatant lie. There was evidence of an area that may once have been used to that extent, but is obviously no longer in existence. I will close by saying that I am not a seasoned traveler used to five star, four star or even three star accommodations. I vacation only where it is affordable and reasonable. Take this review with the proverbial grain of salt, as it is only one person’s opinion. My six year old, who incidentally had the time of his life here would beg to differ.
But then anyone can pull the wool over the eyes of an unsuspecting child.
*Afterword
The pictures of succulent pizza and the dank, dingy food court have since been removed from the website. Several reviews both preceding and following that of my own have also drawn attention to these area's. Further reading of the "one star" rated reviews will offer insight into the alleged "five star" ratings. Apparently, there is money to be made in Pinegrove Bucks in return for a positive review. Several people make reference to the offers of bribes. As I have no solid evidence to substantiate these rumors, I will treat them as just that.
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