Columnist Susan Snyder: For a time, Old Vegas is Old West

Friday, May 13, 2005 | 5:52 a.m.

Susan Snyder's column appears Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursday and Sundays. Reach her at snyder@lasvegassun.com or (702) 259-4082.

WEEKEND EDITION

May 14 - 15, 2005

Bob Zagby was sorry he hadn't worn his cowboy gear.

The Las Vegas mountain man re-enactor and Old West buff wore a polo shirt like a regular guy as he and his wife Dolores walked near Fremont and Third streets during Thursday's Helldorado Days kickoff.

"Bob looked for spurs in the western store," Dolores Zagby said.

Um, too much information perhaps?

"We're not going to get into that now," Bob said, playing along with the joke.

I think they were joking. They definitely were having fun.

"We figured we'd come down here today, just to see what it's all about," Dolores said. "This whole thing is new to us. We're new in town as far as this is concerned."

The Zagbys moved to Las Vegas in 1999, the year the 65-year-old Helldorado Days festival was canceled. The afternoon kickoff afforded a slightly less-crowded taste of the event than the thousands who watched Saturday's parade or the crowds expected at Cashman Field today.

Tom Rohn was there, sporting a vest covered with Helldorado Days buttons dating back to 1951 -- one for each year of his attendance. He was an infant when his parents moved to Southern Nevada during World War II.

"They were from Michigan. They didn't like the snow," Rhon said, smoothing the ribbon that showed he's been a resident for more than 50 years. "They were heading to Los Angeles, but the car broke down here. So, here we are."

Across Third Street, other Helldorado seekers strolled in and out of the shops of the makeshift Western Village, the most "western" characteristic of which was its placement -- the west side of the street.

"Stop right there! They're giving out free show tickets right over here!" a guy wearing a Hawaiian print shirt bellowed to the crowd.

A store with old saddles and western memorabilia was situated next to a palm-reader's studio, which was next to a store that on the outside advertised wheel grease for 10 cents, but sold modern crystal jewelry inside. A guy sold beer cozies in the shape of ball-team jerseys next to a guy selling framed prints of the Old West and new Vegas.

In front of the jail cell where anyone not wearing a $5 Helldorado button was incarcerated, Mark Weinger waited for the Whiskerino Contest to begin. His magnificent handlebar moustache and accompanying goatee didn't qualify as a full beard, so he was disqualified.

Weinger owns property in Las Vegas but lives in the Czech Republic, where he runs a Wild West arts school. He teaches others to perform with whips, as he has done for more than 30 years. It seems a cowboy's still a cowboy in Eastern Europe.

"It's like the '50s over there," Weinger said.

He traveled to Las Vegas to visit his longtime mentor Dick Shane, who worked as James Drury's stunt-double on the 1960s television show "The Virginian."

Shane helped Weinger hone his target work, such as using a bullwhip to flick the ashes off of a cigarette while you are holding it. (Note, I said while you are holding it.)

And does one practice on inanimate objects when learning such a feat?

"No," Weinger grinned. "Actually, I started on my little brother right away."