The Ranch House Restaurant & Lodge

*******WARNING*******
This review is based on my near death experience in this wonderful House of Horror! I did not eat, drink or pee in this establishment. I just ran! I was driving on 26 not knowing where the Hell on earth I was and praying to God that my GPS didn’t decide to freeze up as it has done so many inconvenient times before. I was getting hungry and I tried to Unilocal a restaurant and my phone said. When you get back to civilization, we’ll let you know. So I am coming around a bend and I see this ancient sign up on the ridge. It read Steakhouse, in faded letters. But I was sold as I didn’t think I had any other options. As I pull in the parking lot, there were 5 pick-​ups in front but know one was around. I drove to the left not knowing where the entrance was to the restaurant. But that side was the end of the Motel. (I’m setting the scene for the extremely B movie that will surely be made here after my review) The lamination was peeling off of the «Lodge» doors and there were two folding lawn chairs and a beer cooler in between them as a table. Bud was the drink du jour. But again. Know one to be seen. So I drove to the other side and parked by the double glass doors that I thought was the «Lodge» entrance? I was intrigued at the thought of finding a gem in the middle of know where that I could talk about and bring my friends too. So I get out of my car and look into the dirty windows and there was nothing but me and the tumble weeds! Until I stepped on the wood deck and this dog starts to bark and run after me. I grab the door handle and run in. I almost fell down the stairs that were right at the door. Now I’m in the vestibule of what must have been a clear view to the back of the building in 1946. But the windows on both sides and around the corner were filthy. I look down the stairs and there is no noise, lights or music. I just smelled cigarette smoke and there was a flickering neon beer sign at the landing. Hell No! I wouldn’t have gone down there with a canary and rope tied to my waist! This is the start to every Zombie, murdering MF’in horror movie that I have ever seen! I’m taking my chances with that frickin dog. As I am leaving I look down at the end of the porch and there was a door opened and the room was pitch black. But I saw a shadow of a pair of boots and a head. Of course! It wouldn’t be a proper horror movie without the nut job with a chain saw in a dark room. I walked quickly to my car and it started right away. The only thing missing from this adventure was a tard on the porch with a banjo!