Julie Carter: A saloon where the pavement ends and the West begins
JULIE CARTER
Guest columnist
The name alone is an inviting challenge. The No Scum Allowed Saloon in White Oaks, N.M., is an enticement if only for the historical allure it emanates as it stands in what is left of the late 1800s gold mining town.
The April 2011 issue of American Cowboy magazine named the place as one of the best cowboy bars in the West.
“Who didn’t know that?” a resident said.
Owner Tony Marsh, who hails from Texas, was impressed with receiving the honor.
“We were the only one from New Mexico chosen,” he said.
It was not the first time the bar made the big time.
In 2008, True West magazine tapped the joint with the wand of fame when it named it as one of the West’s best saloons.
Marsh has hinted that more accolades will come.
Just nine miles off the main highway, White Oaks is a century away from civilization as we know it — where the pavement ends and the West begins.
Accordingly, people have been known to drive long distances just to taste the acclaimed “coldest beer around” and soak up some history from the days of the Lincoln County War, the McSweens, Tunstalls and John Chisum.
When Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid rode the streets of White Oaks, the little brick building housed a lawyer, who was followed by an assayer, then a print shop and later a post office.
A half-century or so passes before a local rancher turned the space into a saloon. The walls were still peppered with bullet holes, thought to be from the time it served as a lawyer’s office.
When the railroad bypassed White Oaks and the mines played out, the town made every attempt to fade into a proper ghost town.
You can stand quietly on a dark night and listen for the whispers of the past, the laughter from a ghostly brothel or an echoing gunshot from a cowboy as the sounds of a galloping horse fade into the hills.
Drifting on a soft breeze that moves the night air around the shadows, one can imagine hearing the shuffle of cards and the clicking spin of a roulette wheel from the casino owned by Belle La Mar, known as Madam Varnish because of her reputed “slick ways.”
Marsh stumbled across the No Scum Allowed Saloon when he drove a few hundred miles out of his way to get a cold beer.
When the owner mentioned that he might sell the bar, negotiations began and the rest, as they say, is history.
The bar regularly attracts local musicians for jam sessions on Friday and Saturday nights. It’s nothing organized or formal, but it’s always fun.
Sitting atop the bar with a fiddle or guitar, a cowboy sings the songs that evoke emotions and memories. The lights are dimmed and the dance floor beckons. The melodies float out the open door and into the peaceful night, where only the stars light up the hillsides.
The charm and mystique of the Old West still hang in the air of the bar, now upgraded with modern amenities like indoor plumbing to provide facilities for the ladies and gents.
The ceiling of the main barroom is covered wall-to-wall with dollar bills signed, dated and left by patrons.
Snake Bite, sitting on the bar in a large bottle labeled as such, is a signature drink for the No Scum Allowed Saloon. Possessing a secret recipe with a unique mixture of alcohols, it beckons the daring and is an ongoing topic of conversation.
The locals claim that in White Oaks, tomorrow is a holiday. That also applies to today and yesterday.
Julie Carter is a reporter for the Ruidoso News. Email her at jcarter@tularosa.net.
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