Merv’s Spread

WICKENBURG, Ariz. — For a family reunion a few years back, I spent a week at the Wickenburg Inn, a 4,700-acre desert resort built in 1973, 70 miles northwest of Phoenix. All 11 Boorstins enjoyed the place. With horseback riding, tennis, arts and crafts, and a nature center, there was something for everyone--from kids to grandparents--to do; the casita accommodations were comfortable; and we liked the resort’s low-key Western ambience. But there were drawbacks. The food was mediocre at best; the swimming pool was tiny; and because the resort was in receivership, the staff had an indifferent attitude and some of the facilities were run down.

Cut, as they say, to 1996. Merv Griffin, former Hollywood game-show creator/talk-show host and hotelier (the Beverly Hilton, among others), bought the Wickenburg Inn and poured a million dollars into its refurbishment. In September, it reopened as Merv Griffin’s Wickenburg Inn Dude Ranch & Tennis Club. As dedicated dude-ranchers, my husband, Paul, and I, along with our friends Clay and Clara Stites--transplanted New Englanders who had never done the dude-ranch thing--set off one recent Saturday morning to check out the results. I hoped that in sprucing up the Wickenburg, Griffin hadn’t replaced its down-home feel with Hollywood hype.

Using two-for-one companion tickets, our foursome hopped the 7 a.m. Southwest Airlines flight from LAX to Phoenix, and picked up a rental car, which, with our accumulated frequent-flier car rental coupons, cost only $2.50 (for city surcharges). At 10:45 a.m., we pulled off Arizona 89 eight miles north of the historic little town of Wickenburg, onto the dirt road that cuts through the mesquite-studded desert to the resort.

I was happy to see that the main lodge, handsomely built of pine logs and stone, with its huge rock fireplace and Indian rug-draped sofas in the lobby, looked the same. And that Griffin hadn’t trucked in palm trees to glamorize the desert landscape. But just beyond the patch of grass that fringes the lodge, where there had once been a snarl of creosote bushes and brush, I was delighted to see a patio with a spa and two large swimming pools separated by a natural-rock waterfall--one pool for adults with a pebble-like “river bottom,” the other, for kids, with a desert-sand “beach.” Just what the inn, which usually sizzles under the Arizona sun, needed. Score one for Merv.

We had reserved the resort’s least-expensive rooms: $260 per couple, in the main lodge, including three horseback rides and three meals a day. But when we checked in, we learned that all the lodge rooms had been given to a group of ropers who’d come for a calf-roping contest in the new rodeo arena right near the stables. So the management had moved us to two $340-a-night hilltop casitas at no extra charge. No problem.

Built of bricks that are the same dirt-brown color as the desert, with log-beam ceilings, the casitas are far more spacious than the lodge rooms. Ours had a cozy living room with a wood-burning fireplace, a separate bedroom, and 1 1/2 baths done in colorful Mexican tiles. In redecorating the casitas, Griffin retained their original Western look, but upgraded the creature comforts: new carpeting, king-size beds and 27-inch TVs. Score two for Merv.

In the dining room, not only had the Western decor been brightened up, but the service was friendlier than the last time we’d been here, and, most important, the food was much improved. For lunch, we selected from a dozen Southwestern-themed dishes: a tortilla piled with grilled veggies and melted cheese, like an open-faced quesadilla; a Caesar salad tossed with smoked turkey and crisp homemade corn bread croutons; a grilled chicken-breast sandwich on luscious slices of Indian fry-bread. Merv was on a definite winning streak.

After lunch, we watched the ropers lassoing calves in the rodeo ring (the calves squirmed away half the time), then moseyed over to the stables for the afternoon ride. Beaver Bird, a Blackfoot Indian who is head wrangler, proudly told me that Griffin, who raises his own Arabians and thoroughbreds, had invested in new saddles and new horses for the resort.

Despite such milquetoast names as “Minnie” and “Elmer Fudd,” the horses Paul and I rode were plenty spirited. Our wrangler, Dustin, who had moved down to Wickenburg to escape the harsh Wyoming winter, led us on an hour ride that included more flat-out loping than I’ve enjoyed at any dude ranch from Arizona to Montana.

Night falls early in Arizona this time of year, so at 4:45 p.m., we boarded the hay wagon bound for the Saturday-night cookout on the desert. As we pulled up to the barbecue pits and picnic tables ringed with torches, we were met by a cowboy on a white horse. He was all duded up in a silver-studded shirt and black leather chaps, twin six-shooters and the biggest 10-gallon hat I’ve ever seen--and he was strumming a guitar and singing “I’m Back in the Saddle Again.” Paul, Clay, Clara and I shared a skeptical looks.

As it turned out, the cookout was one of the best things about the new Wickenburg. As the setting sun turned the mares’-tail clouds crimson and then purple, and we chowed down on mesquite-grilled steaks and chicken, Gary Sprague, our cowboy host, entertained us with Western songs, authentic (and often hilarious) cowboy poetry and anecdotes. Soon, the sky was filled with stars so bright, they seemed to stand out in 3-D relief from the ink-black background. We ended the evening sitting around the blazing campfire, singing along with Sprague “They Call the Wind Mariah,” “Tumbling Tumbleweed,” and our foursome’s favorite, “I’m Back in the Saddle Again.”

After checking out Sunday morning, we stopped on the way to Phoenix to explore Wickenburg, a town that was a hub for copper, gold and silver mining at the turn of the century. We poked around the small but picturesque Desert Caballeros Western Museum and a handful of gift shops, then had a pleasant late lunch at the Victorian- themed Gold Nugget, the best restaurant in town since 1940, several locals told us.

Our favorite discovery was Readers of the Purple Sage, a wonderfully cluttered book and cowboy-regalia shop that also is home to the Tex Hill Museum. Chatting with Tex Hill, the owner and retired movie actor who starred as the 12th of the 13 Lone Rangers, made us realize that Merv Griffin isn’t the only one trying to keep alive the romanticized (OK, maybe the Hollywoodized) view of cowboy culture. We agreed it’s a tradition worth sustaining.

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Budget for Two

One night, Wickenburg Inn, including three meals, riding, tax and 16% service charge: $318.50

Airline tickets, L.A.-Phoenix: $144.00

Car rental (with coupons): $2.50

LAX parking: $21.89

Sunday lunch, Golden Nugget: $17.00

FINAL TAB: $503.89

Merv Griffin’s Wickenburg Inn Dude Ranch & Tennis Club, 34801 N. Highway 89, Wickenburg, AZ 85390; tel. (800) 942-5362.