Jack Douglass Saloon

When bartender Mary Lou pulled her six gun out and lifted her skirt, we knew we were in the right place. The bearded guys were whooping, and the saloon keeper roared in and quelled the near riot with a little soothing classical piano all pianissimo-like. After a soporific smoke outside, the bearded guys slipped back inside for some rock'n'roll on the jukebox from their new favorite band, Rollo Greb. Cold beer on a hot summer day, what could be better, especially with Mary Lou pulling the tap.

We walked into this ol' saloon and stepped back 150 years! This rough house was smack in the middle of the gold rush ghost town of Columbia, and we were hungry enough to check 'er out.  

The food offerings weren't very impressive, but I couldn't pass up the locally-made wild cherry soda, and I had a second glass. Made-to-order sandwiches were all right, but my gad-durned gourmet salad had iceberg lettuce in it. As my friend said, this isn't San Francisco! The gourmet chili, on the other hand, kicked some gold-minin' arse!

We didn't strike it rich here, but it's worth the experience. Shuck your gun before walking into this ol' benzinery, you waddy!