They call it cowboy country. “They,” being most residents of Nevada and “it,” being the far northern reaches of the state. Situated between Winnemucca and the Oregon border, Paradise Valley is remote but easily accessible. As with most Nevada towns, you know you’re getting close when you can see a cluster of trees protruding from the valley floor.

Escaping the eastward drift of smoke from a distant California wildfire, Trish and I drove about twenty miles on SR290 after it branches off from US 95 and ducked into that pleasant canopy of trees that holds the promise of paradise. We were not disappointed.

 Main Street is not very long, perhaps a block or two, and with a population of just over 100, it’s not going to expand anytime soon. However, there is plenty to see. At the first cross street (Bridge St.) just past the old mercantile building, we made a right turn and had a head on collision with the 19th century. This is the old and abandoned part of town which is, of course, what we came to see. There are four or five notable buildings in this immediate area, the most obvious being the Micca building.

Some people would call the Micca building a saloon and restaurant, others a hotel. One person might call it a leather shop and another a bakery. Yet others may call it an icehouse, while someone else may say it housed a barbershop and a mercantile. Still others might argue it was a dressmaker shop and pharmacy, while the next person might maintain it was the Post Office and government offices. The correct answer is all the above and then some. The Micca building, built in the 1870’s has often been called Nevada’s first mall.

Indeed, a man and wife could go there, and the Mr. could order new stirrups for his saddle while the Mrs. checks out the latest in dress fashions. The man, who is now waiting for her, can move on to the barbershop and get a trim. Seeing this, the wife can now poke around the dry goods in the mercantile. Finishing about the same time, the man and wife can enjoy a fine meal in the restaurant, after which he can head to the saloon for a drink with the boys while she checks for mail and goes to the pharmacy. When she is done, her husband is still in the saloon, so she goes to the bakery to inquire about recipes. Afterward, with her man still missing, she buys a new hat and gloves. Waiting still, she goes back to the pharmacy to pick up the medicine she had ordered hours before. Venturing into the saloon she finds her husband too drunk to get out to the wagon and so they get a room and stay the night. All of this in the same building!

Just to the east of the Micca building is the Mason Hall. Looking very dilapidated with boarded windows and a missing balcony, it has been many years since a meeting was held here. Across the bridge on the other side of the street is an old barn, built in such a way that the hay loft is extended out from the rest of the building so wagons could park beneath it to be loaded.

Unlike many Nevada towns Paradise Valley was no mining town, other than a short-lived silver strike in the early 1900’s.  Fertile ground made Paradise Valley with farms and ranches sprinkling the local landscape.

In the 1860’s  a few prospectors, finding absolutely nothing to assay, turned in their mining supplies for plows and horses and began farming here.  Others followed but were often chased away by raiding Indians. The construction of Fort Winfield Scott, just to the north, insured a permanent settlement. Soon thereafter families settled in Paradise and it became a major farm and ranch center.

The history of Paradise Valley is somewhat unremarkable when compared to other Nevada towns. It was not a boom town, did not burn down or flood, did not reinvent itself for different era’s and did not garner national attention in any way. Paradise Valley was a farming town of around a 100 people in the beginning and it remains the same now.

The appeal to Paradise Valley is its beauty and that it has not changed.

Trish and I spent a considerable amount of time on foot in the old part of town. The buildings are not fenced off and people are free to wander between and behind these structures, even to peek in windows and cellar doors, but the interiors are too dangerous to enter.

Later we drove around the outer fringes of the town, before returning to Main Street. We ate lunch at the Paradise Valley Bar & Grill, where some of the best hamburgers in Northern Nevada are cooked. History adorns the walls of this former general store and locals here are happy to talk about their town.  Across the street is a large field. If it were not for the large pumphouse in the back, one would assume nothing had ever stood there. In fact, in contrast to the small farm town atmosphere, this field once cradled one of the grandest hotels in all Northern Nevada.

The Auditorium Hotel, built in 1903, was a fine three-story Victorian giant with ballrooms, elevators and suites. Encircled by a magnificent balcony and topped by a copula, it provided the finest lodging, food and entertainment in these parts. It burnt down in 1939. Although it was opulent and sophisticated for the small town it towered above, it has become a featured topic in its history.

We headed south out of town and into the stunning valley from which its name derives. The sweeping grasslands and canyons, bordered by the Santa Rosa Range to the west, is teaming with wildlife ranging from cattle, wild horses and eagles, to snakes, jackrabbits and an over-abundance of turkey-vultures.

We were sad to go, but the smoke from those westward fires was beginning to encroach and we didn’t want to see this picturesque landscape tainted by it.

When you go to Paradise Valley, be prepared to take lots of photos, not only of old buildings, but of landscapes, animals, waterways and panoramas. Also, be prepared for hospitality unchanged for 100 years. Have a burger at the café and say hi to Nita and Dennis.

Be sure to bring an ample amount of time as you’ll want to stay longer than what you had scheduled for. The welcoming atmosphere, history and pristine surroundings will not allow you to leave too suddenly.