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 The sign outside the Little A'Le'Inn screams "Earthlings Welcome" in big blue letters. The doormat is no less subtle in its message: "Aliens Welcome." Such is life in the wide spot in the road called Rachel, Nevada, the nearest community to the access roads leading into Area 51. Pat and Joe Travis run the Little A'Le'Inn, which is a bar that serves up alienburgers and regular beers and has a few mobile home units out back where star-gazing tourists can rest overnight at rates roughly competitive with Motel 6. I sat down at the bar at about 3:00 one Sunday afternoon. Not surprisingly, two pear-shaped men -- one in a Members Only jacket and aviator glasses, the other wearing a calculator watch and several pens in his breast pocket -- were discussing their fantasy plans for infiltrating the base. Apparently pilots, they went on at great length about how they would approach from unrestricted airspace, punching their way through the base's defenses to land outside a hangar full of UFOs. Needless to say, I was more convinced of the UFOs in the hangar than of these gentlemen's ability to fly right into Area 51. I sucked back a cold Budweiser and continued eavesdropping on the Red Baron and Top Gun as I browsed the large collection of photos, books and souvenirs on display. A quarter gets you a map of the area, and a buck buys a postcard or bumper sticker touting Rachel and Area 51 as the "UFO Capital of the World." UFO model kits, alien heads, E.T. ashtrays and flying saucer caps are yours for the taking, if the price is right. Clearly, UFOs aren't just big business for Rachel, they are about all Rachel's got going for it. But why not? If the government insists on denying that Area 51 even exists, if the Air Force thinks we're too stupid to spot a stealth fighter on a practice bombing run, then the uniquely American thing to do is make a tourist attraction of the damn place, and I that's great. Geekiness aside, the atmosphere at the A'Le'Inn is warm and inviting. Where else in the world can you sip a beer, eat a pack of crackers and then ask the bartender for directions to a non-existent secret base full of alleged alien ships? I ponied up my 25 cents for a map and headed out the door. Joe Travis warned me, "Stay outside the border. If you drive in there, they will see you, they will catch you, they will arrest you and they will fine you $600, no questions asked." So much for my bold plan. Where's an ex-tank commander and actress/photographer when you need 'em? Nevada Highway 375 has been designated by the Nevada State Transportation Board as the Extraterrestrial Highway. |
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