You’re driving through the Nevada desert. It’s pitch black. The neon signs of Tonopah start to flicker in the distance, and then you see it. A giant, grinning clown looming over the highway. It’s not a fever dream. It’s the Clown Motel, and honestly, it’s exactly as unsettling as you’ve heard.
Maybe more so.
Most people pull into the parking lot for a laugh. They want the Instagram photo. But then they look next door and realize the motel shares a fence line—literally—with the Old Tonopah Cemetery. You’ve got thousands of porcelain clowns staring at you from the lobby, and then a few feet away, you have the final resting places of miners who died in a 1911 fire. It’s a specific kind of vibe. You either love the kitsch or you don't sleep a wink.
The Reality of Staying at the Clown Motel
Don't expect five-star luxury here. That’s not the point. This is a roadside landmark that embraces its reputation as "The Scariest Motel in America." When you walk into the lobby, you're immediately hit by the sheer volume of clowns. They are everywhere. On the shelves, hanging from the ceiling, painted on the walls.
The collection started with Leona and Leroy David, who opened the place in 1985. They had a massive collection of clowns and decided to build a business around them. Simple as that. It wasn't originally meant to be "haunted" or "creepy." It was just a theme. But when you put a thousand painted faces in a small room next to a graveyard where "The Tonopah Plague" victims are buried, the "creepy" factor takes care of itself.
The rooms themselves have been renovated over the years, especially after Hame Anand took over the property. He’s a guy who genuinely loves clowns. He sees them as symbols of happiness, which is a bit ironic considering how many guests report hearing footsteps or seeing doors creak open on their own. Each room has a theme. You might end up in the "It" room or a space dedicated to "The Exorcist."
It’s heavy on the horror movie nostalgia.
✨ Don't miss: Anderson California Explained: Why This Shasta County Hub is More Than a Pit Stop
Why the Cemetery Matters
You can't talk about the Clown Motel without talking about the neighbors. The Old Tonopah Cemetery was active between 1901 and 1911. It’s a dusty, rugged plot of land filled with wooden crosses and tilted headstones. Most of the people buried there were miners. Tonopah was a silver rush town, and life was hard.
In 1911, a fire at the Belmont Mine killed 17 men. Many of them are right there, just past the motel’s parking lot. Then there was the "Tonopah Curse" or "Plague" of 1902, an unidentified illness that took out dozens of residents. When you stand on the balcony of your room at 2:00 AM and look out over those graves, the desert wind starts to sound a lot like whispering.
The Ghosts and the Gimmicks
Is it actually haunted?
Depends on who you ask. Ghost Adventures filmed an episode here, and they claimed to capture all sorts of "electronic voice phenomena." Skeptics will tell you it's just old pipes and desert winds. But there are stories that stick. Guests in Room 108 and Room 210 frequently report seeing a man in a suit—possibly a former miner—standing at the foot of the bed.
The motel leans into it. They have "haunted" rooms that are specifically decorated to keep you on edge. If you’re looking for a peaceful night’s rest on your way to Reno, this might not be the spot. But if you want to feel that prickle on the back of your neck, it’s perfect.
Honestly, the sheer amount of clown memorabilia is enough to trigger "coulrophobia" in anyone. There’s a life-sized clown sitting in a chair in the lobby that people swear moves when no one is looking. It’s classic Americana horror.
🔗 Read more: Flights to Chicago O'Hare: What Most People Get Wrong
The Business of Being Creepy
Hame Anand, the current owner, moved from India to take over this slice of Nevada history. He didn't shy away from the scary reputation; he leaned in. Under his management, the motel has seen more events, more merchandise, and more "scare factor" upgrades. It’s a brilliant business move. In a world where every hotel chain feels identical, the Clown Motel offers something you can’t get anywhere else.
It’s a destination for "dark tourism."
People travel from across the globe just to say they survived a night here. It’s become a rite of passage for road trippers on US-95. The town of Tonopah itself is fascinating—once the "Queen of the Silver Camps," it now feels like a place caught between two eras. You have the historic Mizpah Hotel down the street (also supposedly haunted) and then you have the clowns.
What You Should Know Before Booking
If you're actually planning to stay, here is the ground reality.
The Wi-Fi is hit or miss. The desert is harsh. It’s cold at night and blistering during the day. This isn't a Marriott. You are paying for the experience, the history, and the bragging rights.
- Check the Room Theme: Some rooms are standard, others are full-blown horror. If you have kids, maybe skip the "It" room.
- Visit the Cemetery at Dusk: It’s the best time to see the light hitting the old wooden markers. Just don't be disrespectful.
- Talk to the Staff: They have the best stories. They’ve seen the "unexplained" stuff firsthand.
- The Gift Shop is Wild: You can buy everything from clown-themed coffee to "I survived the Clown Motel" t-shirts.
The Clown Motel isn't just a place to sleep; it’s a living museum of weirdness. It represents a specific type of American grit—the ability to turn a collection of dolls and a proximity to a graveyard into a world-famous landmark.
💡 You might also like: Something is wrong with my world map: Why the Earth looks so weird on paper
Final Thoughts on the Tonopah Legend
Whether you believe in ghosts or just think clowns are ugly, there’s no denying the impact of this place. It’s a landmark that refuses to die. It survived the decline of the mining industry and the rerouting of major highways. It stays relevant because humans are naturally drawn to the macabre and the strange.
When you leave, you’ll probably find yourself checking the rearview mirror for a few miles. Just to make sure no one—or nothing—hitched a ride in the backseat.
Plan your visit for the shoulder season. Spring or Fall is best. The Nevada summer is brutal, and the winter can be surprisingly snowy. If you want the full experience, go during the "Tonopah Ghost Walk" events held periodically throughout the year.
Bring a physical map. Cell service in central Nevada is notoriously spotty. Once you leave Tonopah, you're looking at long stretches of nothingness. Make sure your car is gassed up before you head out, as the next station could be 50 miles away.
Document everything. Most "encounters" happen when people aren't looking for them. Keep your camera ready, but don't forget to actually look at the sunset over the desert. It’s one of the most beautiful views in the world, even if there’s a creepy clown standing right behind you.