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My trip down America’s road of the paranormal – with a clown-themed haunted motel and a UFO crash site
Spending a night among ghosts, traversing the Extraterrestrial Highway and visiting spacecraft-sighting hotspots – Robyn Wilson takes a trip into the Nevada desert to see if she can answer the age-old question: Are we alone?
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Your support makes all the difference.It’s witching hour deep in the Nevada desert. The time of night when ghosts and demons are most likely to appear. I’m standing torch in hand in an eerie, dark bedroom of the self-proclaimed “most haunted motel in America”, trying to glimpse the paranormal in action.
“Can you feel that cold air?” says Christopher Alefeld, my ghost-hunting guide for the night. “You can feel it in some of the rooms. It just feels different. More tense.”
Our ghost-detecting equipment (an “EMF meter”) bleeps and lights up with activity, indicating it has picked up on changes in a nearby electromagnetic field. It feels like I’m a member of the Ghostbusters when I’m told a sudden unexplained spike in the EMF reading is considered evidence of the paranormal.
But here at the Clown Motel it’s a regular occurrence. They even have a disclaimer on their site about the potential risks involved in having a supernatural encounter. And, yes, you heard correctly – because your run-of-the-mill regular haunted motel just ain’t scary enough, this is a clown-themed haunted motel.
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The motel is located next door to an old cemetery in the historic mining town of Tonopah, where dead miners and former murder and suicide victims – as well as those wiped out in the Tonopah Plague of 1905 – are said to use the thousands of clowns that fill the motel’s adjoining clown museum as vessels to communicate with the living. And, guess what, I’m staying the night.
Of course, I opted for the room with a “malevolent entity who has a tendency of waking our guests in the early hours of the morning”. Go hard or go home, that’s what I say. Now hand me that disclaimer!
I go to bed and, despite myself, I drift off. Until, suddenly, I’m woken at 4am to a loud clatter in the room above. Isn’t that supposed to be an empty room? The sound of restless footsteps thudding around continues for a few minutes, then falls silent. I just hope whoever or whatever it is, they aren’t too malevolent.
The next morning, I find I’ve survived the night. My ghostly experience seems the ideal way to start my journey down America’s road of the paranormal – otherwise known as the Extraterrestrial Highway, or the far less playful Nevada State Route 375. This is where, 35 years ago this November, UFO tourism started to take off after conspiracy theorist Bob Lazar famously claimed live on TV that he’d been part of a project to reverse-engineer extraterrestrial technology near a top-secret government site located off Route 375, known as Area 51.
In the years that followed, the dedicated ET Highway was born, with locations along the route becoming hotspots for alien obsessives trying to spot unidentified flying objects.
Tonopah is the first stop on the route – or last, depending on where your journey starts on this 100-mile stretch of road. Aside from ghosts, the town’s rich mining history means there are more than 100 acres of buildings, mine shafts and even a tunnel to explore. It also has excellent house-brewed beers at the Tonopah Brewing Company, for anyone seeking a little Dutch courage before a night of ghoulish fun.
After taking a look around, I hit the road towards Rachel, a small community with a population of just 48, according to the latest count, and the closest town to Area 51 (which, in case you were wondering, is not on the pitstop list). It also formed the backdrop to parts of Independence Day, the 1996 alien-invasion blockbuster starring Will Smith.
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There’s evidence we’re now in alien country. Road signs even warn of low-flying aircraft. I pull up outside a large UFO hanging from a crane marking the entrance to Little A’Le’Inn, the community’s only bar/motel/diner. A group of extraterrestrial enthusiasts in matching fluorescent green T-shirts are milling around outside, taking photos next to a life-size grey alien. Naturally, I join in.
We get to talking about “the truth”. Do they consider themselves believers? “I don’t not believe,” says one. “There’s definitely something fishy going on,” adds another.
A photo op beckons me away from the group: an Area 51 school district bus, with a hooded Martian as its driver. Truly, an Instagrammer’s paradise.
As I hit the long straight desert road again, I keep an eye out for the route’s famous Black Mailbox among the distinctive Joshua trees that dot the landscape. Lazar apparently brought tourists to meet at the mailbox with hopes of spotting alien spacecraft, and it remains a popular hotspot for sightings. Sadly, there’s nothing in the skies today.
Pressing on, I reach the Alien Research Center, a souvenir store/pitstop where you can add your name to a wall of signatures (look out, too, for the alien Marilyn Monroe at the back of the shop). I’m the only person there aside from McKenzie, who looks after “basecamp” for her uncle.
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She tells me about some of the peculiar characters she meets working out here alone. “Like this one guy,” she says. “He came in here wrapped completely in tin foil. The worst part though? He had nothing on underneath.” I look shocked, but she seems pretty unfazed, and judging by the way she later dealt with two men doing doughnuts in her car park, I got the sense that you don’t mess with McKenzie.
My final stop beckons, and I hop back in my car towards E.T. Fresh Jerky – the crash site of a UFO, or perhaps just a giant fake UFO model on display. I’ll let you make up your own mind on that one.
After a few more irresistible snaps, I head inside to buy a lot of “extraterrestrial” beef jerky (for veggies and vegans, they also do jerky fruit), where I spot an unsurprisingly chatty alien Donald Trump in a box (kind of like the Zoltar machine from the film Big). One for the Tim Burton fans among you (*holds hand up*), there’s also a 6ft tall alien from Mars Attacks!
Sadly, that was about as close as I got to the real deal when it came to aliens on my trip down America’s road to the paranormal. But who’s to say many others who’ve experienced sightings here are wrong? As they say: “The truth is out there.”
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Where to stay
The Clown Motel proclaims itself to be “America’s scariest motel” and not just because of its ever-growing clown collection, with figurines, artwork and paraphernalia lining the shelves. The motel is also no stranger to paranormal activity, according to reports from previous guests, with a notice warning that during your stay you may experience “unexplained phenomena”. If this sounds up your street, and you want to brave a night in the motel, themed rooms – from The Exorcist to IT – as well as standard rooms, are available to book.
Doubles from £100/night.
Located in the remote town of Rachel, Little A’Le’Inn is the place to stay if Area 51 is an essential part of your paranormal-themed road trip. The restaurant/bar/motel offers simple room lodgings, camping and RV parking, as well as popular food offerings such as its “world famous” alien burger, breakfasts and other homely American fare.
Motel doubles from £80/night, campsite spots from £8/night.
How to get there
British Airways and Virgin Atlantic offer return flights from London to Las Vegas from around £630. Norse offers return flights from London to Las Vegas from around £400, but there are added charges (inflight meals, headphone sets for your TV etc).
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