by Matt Konkle
Torque Editor-in-Chief
LAS VEGAS — Halloween on Fremont.
It is three words of the English language that, when strung together, unlock a slew of following adjectives like candy spilling out of a kid’s trick or treat bag when turned upside down.
Crazy. Intense. Overwhelming. Bizarre. Dazzling. Disturbing.
A carnival for your senses, as much as it is a carnival atmosphere for the scores of thousands who attend.
Think Mardi Gras slathered with a healthy dose of Octoberfest and you’ll be in the right area code.
Originally this was going to be a piece about our journey all over northern Las Vegas Sunday morning, following Google Maps directions to various car wash locations kind of like Lewis and Clark following their compass and other tools to reach the Pacific Ocean.
It worked out for them, but they didn’t have a YJL Wrangler strapped behind them on a trailer. We almost died several times trying to change lanes on I-515, when our fellow vehicles in the other lane wouldn't move and just paced us with passengers hanging out windows taking pictures of the YJL.
But after catching a few minutes on Fremont Street the last time we were in town for the Specialty Equipment Market Association trade show, we knew where we needed to go for Halloween night.
So after a fantastic farm-to-table dinner thanks to our great friends at Mastertop, we piled into a cab and indicated Fremont Street as our destination.
With a knowing laugh and a crack about seeing the "real" Las Vegas, the driver whizzed us away towards what is one of the oldest areas of the city, and arguably its most famous.
Fremont Street, sometimes known as ‘Glitter Gulch’, is something you’ve probably actually already seen if you haven't been before. That’s because just about any television show or movie featuring a Las Vegas nightlife scene includes shots of Fremont.
Yup, those bright sparkling neon buildings that flash by as the camera pans forward, party music blasting, are all Fremont and not the strip.
Fremont was one of Vegas’ first thoroughfares when the city was founded in 1905 and became its first paved street in 1925. In fact, the street housed the city’s first legal casino — the Northern Club — when Nevada issued Las Vegas six gambling licenses in 1931.
These days, casinos are all over the street’s landscape and are housed behind busy, glittering neon signs, grandiose entrances and splashy advertisements that scream out for attention.
While there is still a drivable street known as Fremont, the six blocks making up that casino-filled portion was converted into a pedestrian mall in 1996 and storefronts quickly popped up along with kiosks to offer plenty of shopping alternatives for weary gamblers. The area soon became known as the Fremont Street Experience.
In 2004, a barrel vault canopy spanning four blocks was built over the pedestrian area, and now the canopy features nearly 12 million LED lights, while themed light and sound shows begin at dusk and play every hour. When light and sound shows are not playing, music is continually playing on a 550,000-watt sound system that runs the length of the Fremont Street Experience.
It is certainly a wild area pretty much every night, but Halloween dials that wildness up to an absurd level. You know that scene in Spaceballs when Dark Helmet says to go right to ludicrous speed? Well, yeah, light speed is too slow for Fremont Street on Halloween. You need to go right to ludicrous speed.
When the taxi pulls up at the Plaza Hotel for drop-off, the first thing to assault your senses is the noise. Not only from just the sheer amount of people, which is the second thing to register, but from the area’s three different music stages.
On the one, a ‘robust’ Elvis impersonator dressed entirely in a flamingo pink jumpsuit, is belting out 80’s hits and pausing every few minutes to listen as the surging throng of people in the audience shout out lyrics.
Overhead, that canopy is pushing out a constant stream of images, swirling colors and pulsing lights that seem well-timed to the eardrum-crushing drumbeat of music.
On another stage, the lead singer is ghoulishly painted up in the appropriate Halloween theme, while background singers sport Grim Reaper outfits and the backdrop displays a cloaked skull with glowing red eyes.
And all around are the people.
Some stand stationary, no doubt trying to take in the whole thing as well, but most are in a constant state of motion — either swaying to the music or moving on to see the next street performer banging on plastic buckets, spray paint artist, or just looking for friends who may have been swallowed up in the people river.
It can be like a surging tide, where one misstep gets you separated and then all you see are people with fake blood and scars dominating their faces. Or plenty of witches, skeletons, movie or television characters, superheroes, gorillas, penguins, pirates, wenches (not winches) and plenty of other homemade costumes.
Sure, some were cheesy, but most really seemed like things people worked on for weeks until everything was exactly how it needed to look.
And in case you are wondering, no, it is not really a trick-or-treat, family-friendly environment, even though we did see several children being led around by fully-costumed parents.
At the end of the pedestrian part of Fremont, reality sets back in as cars patiently await a traffic signal that — temporarily — stems that human tide in favor of those cars.
Here, the music is less intense and the overhead light show is gone, so you can either go out into the night, or you can turn around and retrace your steps back into the river.
We turned around.
Because no matter how many times you go up and down Fremont, odds are you’ll never really see the same thing twice.
