My sister and brother were in town this weekend for a conference. Now, they’re not rednecks. But they came all the way to Vegas to just try it on for the weekend. (Well, that, and they had a conference.) And it included The Bunkhouse Saloon, NASCAR, and a few surprises. I wonder what we’ll find…
THIS WEEKEND
- Go to it within this page: Pizza Rock | Or go to their website: pizzarocklasvegas.com | 201 N 3rd St, Las Vegas, NV 89101
- Bunkhouse Saloon | www.bunkhousedowntown.com | 124 S 11th St, Las Vegas, NV 89101
- Las Vegas Motor Speedway | www.lvms.com | 7000 N Las Vegas Blvd, Las Vegas, NV 89115
- Taco Y Taco | facebook.com/tacotacome | 9470 S Eastern Ave, Las Vegas, NV 89123
- Money Plays | www.moneyplayslv.com | 4755 W Flamingo Rd, Las Vegas, NV 89103
- For ALL the places we’ve gone in 2016, click here!
Pizza Rock
Pizza and metal!
Friday night, we picked them up from the airport and headed to Pizza Rock just outside The Downtown Grand. If you’ve never been there, go. Don’t be alarmed by the probably tongue-and-cheek decor (semi truck DJ booth?). It looks like West Coast Choppers had sex with Omnia Nightclub in there.
And if downtown ain’t your thing, they just opened one up at Green Valley Ranch that’s 75% as good. Anyway, the pizza is by this guy named Tony Gemignani and it’s great. If you can, try the Burratina Di Margherita (Burrata cheese, cherry tomatoes tossed with basil, extra virgin olive oil and balsamic reduction) and the Cal Italia (Asiago, Mozzarella, imported Gorgonzola, sweet fig preserve, Prosciutto di Parma, Parmigiano-Reggiano and balsamic reduction). They brag about those two in particular; they’ve won awards with them; and you’ll see why.
Bunkhouse Saloon
Whoa, Nelly.
Then to Bunkhouse Saloon for a show called ‘Honky Tonk Women: Ladies’ Night,’ featuring $5 PBRs, Las Vegas local originals The Rhyolite Sound and the midwest import, Nellie Wilson, which I’m pretty sure is a play on ‘Willie Nelson,’ whose songs they covered quite a bit.
Nellie Wilson wore a red bandana and daisy dukes boots, and had a fun kind of sass between songs that’s rooted in that famous midwestern hospitality. She was definitely born and raised in a one-traffic-light kinda town.
In fact, both groups were about as real and pure and authentic as I’ve ever gotten to live classic country. These guys weren’t trying to be anything else. There was no fusion. No reinvention. No sugar-coating. They stuck to the good stuff, I might say if I had t’bacca under my lip. The stuff that doesn’t get a lot of radio play, and doesn’t win many Grammys. Stuff that’s just fun and doesn’t try to be much else. It just is. And I think that goes a little underappreciated these days.
And, you can never go wrong with an upright bassist.
Attempt #1
Signs #2 & #3
The Bunkhouse Saloon is freaking awesome. But first, can I say… WTF Bunkhouse Saloon signage(s)? The bar’s at Freemont and 11th. As you approach from Freemont, you see this big, black sign (pictured). “Entrance” and an arrow pointing to a long, white brick wall. Entrance where, Bunkhouse Saloon?
We finally find a chainlink fence, NOT under the arrow, where a security guard informs us that we have to go around the block and enter from 11th. Okay, fair enough.
Then you turn the corner, and you you two more signs (also pictured). The first one’s not even on their building, and it looks like it’s been there since Bugsy Siegel was alive. And the second one is all backlit and could have been a re-purposed Walgreens sign. Probably not. But could’ve been.
All I’m trying to say is this is clearly a place with a history of navigation issues.
Okay, then you walk up, and your second experience with Bunkhouse Saloon is this: The most awesome biker gang lineup ever. There was definitely a bicycle that didn’t make the frame of this picture that might have belonged to Pee Wee, circa Big Adventure. I looked for him inside the bar with no luck. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t him, dammit.
It’s not a pee-wee, it’s a chopper, baby.
Bunkhouse Saloon this awesome mashup of dudes that proudly wore the ZZ Top original long beard, pitted up against DTLV’s beer-snobbery, hipster art scene, maybe go-to-country-music-shows-ironically, DEFINITELY wear flannel ironically, new-beard-wearing dudes. So it’s a battle of the beards. We can only hope their beards have some kind of superpower like shooting dried hops or mad guitar riffs, in this winner-takes-all, Highlander-style bearded battle to the death.
Yep, that’s a FOURTH sign on their roof.
Then we turn around, and we see this place. (We’re almost inside!) I mean, how could you NOT want to go into this place and have some drinks, have some good conversation, watch some live music, and maybe go buy a mattress and a spare toothbrush and try to sleep in the back-of-house somewhere forever and ever. This place looks like home.
Bunkhouse Saloon also keeps an amazing lineup of events and live music. (Check it out here.) It’s as diverse as it is consistent. Play video games, sing karaoke, or maybe it’s a punk rock band or an EDM DJ. The bar is just the right size, and they’ve got a back yard with park tables. And you can’t beat $5 tall cans of PBR. (And psst.. just between us, I’ve heard they do some surprise pop-up shows late night, like The Killers.)
If you get a chance, or if you’re looking for an excuse to check out some unique live music, try Bunkhouse Saloon.
NASCAR
On Saturday, in the spirit of Bunkhouse Saloon, it was a continuation of our exploration into redneck culture – NASCAR at The Las Vegas Motor Speedway. The Kobalt 400 was on Sunday – the Saturday race was just the minor league shit. (But that’s okay for a bunch of first-timers.) You could tell. The stands weren’t packed. Some folks never made it inside the track. They were just hanging out in the parking lot by their car (er, truck), with a BBQ grill, some lawn chairs, cold beers, and flags that represent who they’re rootin’ for. (That’s a thing, I guess.) I mean, there was a lady literally pushing a vendor cart of hot dogs up and down the parking lot aisles. The parking lot. That’s right: there’s enough fucking people in the parking lot for her to make her living off this shit.
What do you mean, ‘No Parking’?!
I don’t know what to expect having never been to one of these. But there are two things that hit you like a ton of beef jerky:
- The scale of this thing is unbelievable. The Las Vegas Motor Speedway sits on 1,200 acres. Gates to enter parking are numbered 1 through like 17. It’s worse than parking at Disneyland. It probably took us 15 minutes from pulling “in” to LVMS to actually getting out of the car. Then 15 more minutes to get from the car to the ticket gates. Inside, 140,000 seats and 1.5 miles of track. There’s a whole world just inside the oval. Check that shit out. Those semi trucks look like toys. Everything about this place was a few orders of magnitude larger than life.
Look at those little semi trucks!
- The sound. Getting there… parking… vending… you spend all that on the other side of the stands. A giant structure blocking you – muffling the sound of 35 supercars going 200 MPH. So there’s this moment when you cross a threshold into the inner stadium, so-to-speak. There’s this reveal of sight and sound and awe, and the sound jumps 50 decibels. (That’s a lot, if you’re not familiar with the measurement of sound.) That reveal made the whole thing worth it.
Baby in headphones? Well done, NASCAR dad!
They sold and rented all these noise-cancelling headphones on your way in, and we’re like, “Eh, we don’t need those, right?” (The other reason for those is to hear the announcers tell you what the ef is going on. Dammit, next time I’m getting those headphones.) For more on sound, let’s just turn to a quote from NASCAR at about.com:
According to the Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) a person can listen to a 90 decibel (dB) sound for 8 hours straight without any hearing damage.
90 dB is approximately as loud as a busy city street.
Adding just a few decibels cuts that safe time dramatically. At 115 dB you can only listen safely for 15 minutes. A NASCAR race car at full throttle measures approximately 130 dB. That is just one car, not a full field of 43 cars with their sounds echoing off of aluminum grandstands.
This sport is crazy. People die. A racer died on this track, actually, just a few years ago. There was a 4-car crash on Saturday, but don’t worry – no one got hurt. (So that makes it awesome, right?) Then after they cleaned the track, you get a re-start. A pace car controlling them for a couple laps, and then… release. Every car right on top of each other. Bumper to bumper at 200 mph. People stand for it. It’s that one part of the race where the lesbian ladies with cropped hairdos one row in front of us cheered and clapped and drank their beers and looked at each other and shared this magical thing together. I’m not sure, but when the cars whizzed by our turn, I’m pretty sure they made a sound and it was “fuck yeah.”
My drink of choice at NASCAR.
I mean, isn’t it a bit odd that we all go to a sport where we’re all secretly hoping for the absolute worst thing – a crash – to happen? Or is that just me thinking that because I’m a stock car rookie? How did I miss this? How did I grow up surrounded by so many corn fields in every direction outside my hometown, and not even accidentally stumble into a country bar, develop a taste for my hometown beer (pictured), realize the value of a truckbed over a trunk, favor consistency and tradition over change and diversity, appreciate a simple lifestyle, a comfort to not need more than the shit god gave me?
You might be a redneck if …the blue book value of your truck goes up and down depending on how much gas it has in it.
Jeff Foxworthy
This shit ain’t that old, NASCAR. Did you know: One rich family basically owns the whole thing outright? Look it up. Stock car racing has its roots in the prohibition period. Bootleggers in the Southern Appalachians had to transport moonshine at 120 mph to run from the law. They started racing on the weekends out of this need to find the guy with the fastest car.
They had its first official race in 1936 in Daytona and offered a purse of just $5,000. Shortly after that, and WWII, race car driver Bill France, Sr. (“Big Bill”) formed NASCAR in 1948, in part because the promoters kept walking away with all the cash without paying the drivers. Bill France Sr., then eventually his Jr., didn’t just create, own, and run NASCAR, they were the glue that held it all together. These guys were NASCAR. They were the leadership that made NASCAR the juggernaut that it is today. They organized the races and strategies. They kept all the major Detroit automakers involved. It’s Big Bill we can also accredit the Daytona International Speedway and the Talladega Superspeedway. And when they signed sponsor R. J. Reynolds in the ’70’s (“How about the ‘Winston Cup’?”), they made sure every race was paved, and shit got larger and faster and meaner.
Yessir, stock car racing was here to stay.
When Big Bill died in 2007, he was worth $1.5B. His grandson has been CEO since 2002.
I wonder if we could possibly start a new sport today. Like, is it too late? Look at these professional sports we have – these titans, and how refined their rules are, and how big their fanbases are, and the networks of collegiate and minor leagues, and their contracts with networks and sponsors, and on and on… Are we past the era of new professional sports? Is NASCAR the last one? 
Taco Y Taco Of course, we hit a few other great spots while they were in. Taco Y Taco is one of our personal favorites. If you like tacos (who doesn’t like tacos), stop what you’re doing right now and go to this place immediately.
Yes, that’s soccer.
We go to the one on Eastern because it’s closer (it’s in the BJ’s plaza south of the 215, in what used to be Republic, then Fado Irish Pub before that) But if you want a more Mexican experience, maybe try the one on Trop. Here’s what one white guy on Yelp had to say about it – perfectly sums up the ordering process for gringos, I think.
Funny, we watched both locations since their opening because Jackie went to school with this girl, and we’ve watched them struggle over localizing the experience slightly over the years. The menu is now translated into English. Although, there are like 9 words for the different meats in Spanish, like preparation styles, and like four of them will just say “pork” by them in English, so… pork, pork, pork, beef, beef…
Amazing Al Pastor
At one point, they typed up a little 8 1/2 x 11″ note by station #1 that said something to the effect of, “This is going to be uncomfortable for you. If you’re not cool with that, maybe this isn’t the place for you.” I’m paraphrasing.
Anyways, forget about all that. All that matters is that their tacos are amazing. I’m partial to the al pastor “with everything.” It’s probably the best taco I’ve ever had, ever ever. Oh, and get the street corn. And if you’re up for trying new things, make the bartender teach you about Mezcal.
That’s something pretty uniquely cool about Las Vegas. When you’ve got all these different people descending on the same place for all different reasons, you get an amazingly authentic taco shop (30% of Las Vegas is Mexican or Hispanic) in the same plaza as a great sushi or Indian place, down the street from Bunkhouse Saloon, and 2 exits from NASCAR.
Everything and anything you want to do, you can do it in Las Vegas.
Drew Carrey
Money Plays
Okay, just one more place. I can’t help myself but to talk about Money Plays. Talk about friends in low places, this is just one of those dive bars that might just be the true center of the universe. Tucked into a plaza on Flamingo and Decatur between a loan center and a massage parlor (ahem, doesn’t that just describe most plazas in Las Vegas?), Money Plays is EVERYTHING YOU WANT IT TO BE:
- They share a door with (another) taco place called Taco Feliz, so that’s their food option. Expect great bar/Mexican for like $6 a person.
- There’s shuffleboard and I’m pretty sure some live music sometimes.
- Their beer selection is surprisingly amazing.
- The threshold from one type of flooring to another type was typically duct tape. One of their flooring types was definitely glued down pennies.
- Yes, they have video poker, if you’re into that kind of thing.
- The bartender was the happiest guy I’ve met in a really long time. And it wasn’t drinking-on-the-job or anything. He was just a super genuine, super awesome guy. I’m pretty sure everyone that walks through that door is his friend.
- There were ‘regulars.’ Oh yes. And they were nice too. And one of them looked like Keanu Reeves, circa John Wick.
- The Century Club: Finally, let me tell you about this plaque program they had on the wall. There’s this plaque that says ‘The Century Club’ or something, and like 50 gold slates on it, and only 4 of them have names filled out on them. And we’re like, “Awe, that’s sad, they can’t get anyone to participate in this program.” So we asked the bartender about it. Nope, it’s worse. The Century Club required that you consume 100 shots of Jameson. Then you get your name on the plaque, and you get a commemorative bottle from Jameson. Let that soak in. 100 shots. Okay, so the program lasted like 2 weeks, because these 4 guys did it multiple times. Yes. Do the math! That’s hundreds of shots each. That’s a dozen or more a day. Not once. EVERY day. For 2 weeks. Yeah. Needless to say, they decided to no longer run the promotion.
I’ll be back, Money Plays. You too, Bunkhouse Saloon.
For all weekend recaps, visit maketheweekend.com.
