Spending the night at your average, run-of-the-mill motel can be an overrated and unfriendly experience for the road-tested traveler. You quickly find out that four walls, flower curtains, free HBO, and a subpar continental breakfast get pretty stale after a while.
So, where's the thrill in spending the evening away from home anymore? Well, choosing to stay overnight in a teepee might change your outlook on everything, and that reality is on full display at the famous Wigwam Motel in San Bernardino County.
Impossible to miss—and gawk at—from the road (which is actually a nice slice of the old Route 66), the Wigwam Motel is exactly that: a village of wigwams (aka teepees, to you normies out there) that you can rent and sleep in for an evening. A genius, and completely necessary, idea to say the least... sign me up!
These 30-foot-tall behemoths are pretty large and in charge; solidly made from concrete and stucco, with a wood framing and a zigzag of red paint to give them some real shine in the "authentic" (a term I use very loosely here) department. They all stand in a unique pattern across the grounds, and there are a lot of them—meaning there's no excuse for not trying this experience at least once in your life.
The Plaza Hotel this ain't, but that's more than OK.
As you might imagine, the inside doesn't offer much in the way of luxury: no mints under your pillow, room service, or jacuzzi tubs in this part of town. The wigwams are a bit damp, dark, and uncomfortable, featuring an old-school TV, triangle mirrors, and scarce floor space for your morning calisthenic workout.
However, we didn't come here for comfort or an authentic teepee slumber party; we came for the novelty, which is delivered 100%. There are lots of charms around these parts if you accept your surroundings and dig really deep.
Aside from the teepees, the cherry on top is the kidney-shaped pool (always a classic!) and the barrage of 1950s-era cars scattered around the hotel's grounds. These add immense atmosphere to the whole "retro experience" on display here and serve as a solid reminder of the era from which all this madness originated.
As an added bonus, there's also a small gift shop located in the lobby, offering nice slices of Route 66 Americana in the form of postcards, books, magnets, and snow globes.
A groovy and unique hotel experience all around, and certainly more fun than trying to spend the night in the abandoned Sunset Pacific Hotel in Silverlake.
HOW THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN?
The Wigwam Motel's California branch (yes, this is part of a chain of teepee motels) opened in 1949 by a man named Frank Redford.
Coming to fruition during the great road boom of the 1920s and heavily influenced by the Native American culture he loved so much, Frank set out to create a unique sleeping experience for the road warriors of the time. In 1933, Redford finally created his first masterpiece, opening a village of teepee-shaped cabins near his hometown in Kentucky and naming it the "Wigwam Village." It was an instant success, and its popularity demanded replication in the Western region.
After securing a patent for the design, Redford began constructing wigwam locations all over the US, and by the 1950s, there were seven in existence. However, the 60s and 70s ushered in the Interstate superhighway system, forcing small stops and motels across the US to disappear, creating a ripple effect that crippled the Wigwam Motel chain as well.
Out of the seven, only three remain today (this one, and locations in Arizona and Kentucky), but the Wigwam continues to bring in big business.
