Normally, I don’t report on real estate transactions; however, I’ve just learned that the Medlin cattle ranch in southern Nevada is currently on the market for four and a half million bucks. The property includes forty deeded acres plus forty patent claims, multiple watering holes, corrals, feedlot pens, a hay barn and the world’s most famous mailbox.
It happens that Steve and Glenda Medlin’s ranch abuts a top secret military testing site known as Area 51, where civilians who breach the perimeter are immediately confronted by armed guards known as “camo dudes.” Yet Medlin’s range cows are allowed to meander freely because they, like the Medlins, present no security threat. How can this be, I wondered? Which is why, some years ago, I decided to go have a look-see.
The Medlin spread is situated in Tickaboo Valley, a short distance south of Nevada State Route 375, also known as The Extraterrestrial Highway. The turnoff is marked by an padlocked steel plate strongbox, often referred to as the Black Mailbox, even though it’s painted white. Its predecessor, painted black, mysteriously disappeared one night and is no doubt being held in a secure, undisclosed facility elsewhere—perhaps on another planet.
Why all the interest in a rural Nevada mailbox? Well, it turns out that the spot where it sits affords an unobstructed view of the airspace above Area 51 and is thus a magnet for UFO watchers the world over. Before proceeding further, I stopped to take several pictures, using various colored filters while dangling a toy flying saucer from a transparent monofilament line. Had the Medlins seen me doing so, I have no doubt they would have cancelled the interview.
Or, perhaps someone HAD seen what I was up to—I mean, the area is under constant surveillance. Said someone could have then alerted Steve Medlin that the approaching journalist is just another of those pesky bozos more interested in UFOs than AUMs (Animal Unit Months). Then again, it could be that Steve Medlin is just the strong silent type.
For the life of me, I just couldn’t squeeze any information out of him. Then again, perhaps I was just asking the wrong questions. For instance, “Do you have a lot of trouble with cattle mutilations?” “Does the Air Force monitor your movements via saddle-ite surveillance?”
Each question was met by a long silence, punctuated by ptooies of chewing tobacco juice. Having no scopolamine in my kit, I eventually gave up trying to get Steve to talk and retired to my vintage VW campmobile for the night. When I awoke the next morning, I noticed that all four tires had been pissed on.
Just now I went searching for my Medlin file, only to find there isn’t one. So, I’m guessing I returned from the field sans information, and that whatever I subsequently wrote about the owners of the infamous Black Mailbox was probably based on pure conjecture. In that, I’m not alone. Like the mystery of Oak Island, each and every article ever written about Area 51 is shot through with question marks.
