Best Phoenix Honky-tonks Are Two Steps Away

What I have known all along, but sometimes hide in the corners of my mind, is that you can take the girl out of the West but you can’t take the West out of the girl.

It didn’t take long for Arizona’s honky-tonks to spur my memory, however--those clubs of country where disco meets Dallas under one roof; where the dress runs to denim and diamonds and the beer runs cheap; where the dance floors are hardwood sanded smooth by boot-scootin’ cowboys, and where things can get a little rough and rowdy, all to the cry of a steel guitar.

A die-hard country music and dance fan, I went to central Arizona not long ago on a honky-tonk junket and discovered there are more than 70 clubs of country in the Phoenix area. But I had just three nights to find the best of the West.

My first stop was Denim & Diamonds, where long-necks sell for 44 cents on Thursdays and where the customers wear everything from blue jeans to diamonds. “Imagine ‘Cheers’ with country music; it’s that kind of place,” says general manager Ed Tobin.

When I was there, a Wednesday “Singing in the Shower” contest awarded a prize to the “best” singer, and the Saturday “Steak Stampede,” which I missed, served up free steak dinners.

“We’re not just no honky-tonk,” says Roger Gearhart, regional supervisor of Denim & Diamonds and another local club, Graham Central Station. “We’re just a nice country-Western dance nightclub with not many problems.”

This also is the kind of place where you can see people--”1,086 on a good night,” Gearhart says--and where a disc jockey plays a mix of country and top-40 music. There are no bands (except the occasional national country act), Gearhart says, because with deejays “the quality of the sound is better, and people want to dance to what they hear on the radio just like they hear it on the radio.”

But it was Denim & Diamonds’ 2,500-square-foot dance floor that drew my interest, with colored lights illuminating the mirrored saddle suspended high above the floor.

The first potential dance partner I met, “Al from Saskatchewan,” said country is a big thing in Canada--and, sure enough, he even knew how to two-step a little. Although most club patrons are locals, Denim & Diamonds attracts its share of out-of-towners year-round because it’s just a hop, skip and a shuffle from Sky Harbor International Airport.

When another man asked me to dance, I hesitated. Arizonans, it turns out, do their own brand of two-step, the Arizona two-step, or “half-time” (because it takes half the time and half the space of the Texas two-step). Fun to watch, it is totally foreign to someone like me, schooled in the Texas two-step and the traveling line of dance theory. Luckily, I quickly learned my partner was from Baltimore.

When I told my next partner, a local, that I was an out-of-towner, he was more than happy to give me some personal dance instruction, Arizona-style.

My next stop was Graham Central Station, where I was to meet Paul, the friend of a friend. Graham Central is only a 20-minute drive west of Denim & Diamonds. Both clubs are managed by Texans and owned by a Texas corporation, the Graham Brothers, which also owns 27 other nightspots in the Southwest. Graham Central plays less top-40 music than Denim & Diamonds because there is a disco, West LA, under the same roof.

“Each club has pretty much its own clientele,” Gearhart says, and “we’re busy all year-round.”

Indeed, Graham Central was packed the night I was there. I even had trouble finding a parking space--and it was a Thursday night.

The club is the largest in the area, with 35,000 square feet of space and a crowd capacity of 3,500. And ladies, listen up: There are more stalls in the “Cowgirls” room than at the Kentucky Derby.

But best of all, this club is a dancer’s dream, with a dance floor the size of a basketball court. In contrast to Denim & Diamonds, earnest dancers with their own partners seem to frequent this club, dancing more than the waltz and the half-time, specifically the West Coast swing, schottische and Cotton-Eyed Joe.

Several mirrored saddles are suspended above the dance floor, and a life-size model of Mister Ed stands smack in the middle of the parquet floor.

I kept expecting some cowpoke to jump onto the horse and holler a few yahoos, but a mechanical bull held more interest for the serious riders.

With the bull and a punching bag in the corner, and pinball machines and pool tables scattered about, Graham Central looks like a fancy set from “Urban Cowboy” and has the air of a carnival.

As often as not, there’s a promotional contest of some sort going on. The night I was there it was a “Most Watchable Cowgirl” contest. Six entrants, most wearing roper boots and Wrangler jeans (the uniform of Arizonans--and Texans), were herded onto the dance floor to be judged.

There’s something about the Arizona desert at night. The dry heat of day turns into the coolest cool, the deep-blue sky turns darkest black, the stars shine brighter without rude city lights to dim them. The night calls for reverence, and respect it you should, especially when you’re driving north on Scottsdale Road toward Cave Creek and see a sign that simply states “No Shooting”--a vivid reminder that the West is still wild.

My second night in Arizona was one of those respectful nights. A coyote fairly flew across the pavement in front of our car, stopping briefly to give us a wary sideways glance before taking off again.

We drove on--on past Rawhide, a Western-theme town, which made it seem as though we were traveling back in time. As we approached Cave Creek, about 25 miles north of Phoenix, we saw a fluorescent glow in the distance where a roadside vendor was setting out his wares.

There were no images of Elvis on black velvet, no plaster-of-Paris bulls. Nada. Only neon cactuses and chilies-- yet more symbols of the West.

Finally, we came to the Horny Toad, a rustic restaurant and bar with wooden floors and not much dance space. The Horny Toad offers entertainment only during tourist season, and this night it was singer Lynne Linton, performing more folk than country music. She even convinced a couple of children to help out on some songs--and that was when I knew it was time for Paul and me to move on.

I had read in Country Spirit, a free local country-entertainment tabloid, about Harold’s Cave Creek Corral, and knew it had a dance floor and a great band. And after a night of deejay music, I had a hankering for live.

Harold’s, back down Cave Creek Road from the Horny Toad, had the Western ambience I was searching for: sawdust on cement floors, outdoor fireplaces, men in plaid shirts. Like most of the other bars in Cave Creek, Harold’s looks like something out of an old Western.

In fact, after a drive down the town’s main drag, it was hard to remember which club had the stuffed bear and which had the wooden Indian . . . or was it one and the same?

The folks at Harold’s appeared to be locals, but were in fact cowboys in town for a rodeo, according to bartender Kevin Danahy. He also said the locals steer clear when the tourists are in town, but come summer they’re back.

The music, by Sara and the Healers, was top-notch country. But the dance area was crowded with tables, leaving room for only four or five couples to do a slow dance or the half-time. We decided to call it an early night and left at midnight.

On my last night in town, another friend, Todd, and I met up with Paul to continue our cowboy-bar adventure. Todd and his wife, Joan, fell in love at a Flagstaff honky-tonk, the Museum Club. But Todd was dance-floor shy, so I was under strict orders from Joan to teach him some West Coast swing. Instead, I decided we should head for Toolies Country Saloon and Dance Hall and its free dance lessons.

Now the hottest spot in Phoenix for country music and dancing, Toolies is modeled after an 1890s Western bar but has a 1990s attitude. Last year, the club was named one of America’s top three country nightclubs by both the Academy of Country Music and the Country Music Assn., and it is nominated again this year. The club also has won numerous “Best of Phoenix” awards in the past three years.

You won’t hear canned music here--it’s live every night. Owner Bill Bachand does his homework, keeping tabs on who’s hot and who’s not in country, and books acts from across the country, among them Highway 101 and Jann Browne, both of whom appeared around the time of my visit.

I knew about Toolies’ 12,000 square feet of space and ample hardwood dance floor, and when I walked into the club I saw the traveling line of dance.

Quickly, I picked out a cowboy from Houston (you can tell by the dance style--the smoothest dancers are from Houston) and took to the floor. Finally, I’d found honky-tonk heaven.

My cowboy had Dean Dillon eyes and had left Houston 26 years before at age 17. His name was Thomas, and we danced well together. For the first time since I’d hit Phoenix, I worked up a sweat on the dance floor. Thomas taught me some half-time moves and the pony. In exchange, I showed him the Cowgirl Hustle line dance.

I had to break from dancing long enough to join Paul and Todd for the hamburger special: Toolies’ burgers are fashioned after the ones Bachand ate with his dad at Miller’s bar back home in Dearborn, Mich. A third of a pound of beef on an onion roll, with trimmings and chips, the burgers usually sell for $2.29. That night they were $1.50.

Then it was back to the dance floor and more music and show from Texas--the Band, a Dallas group.

It was hard to leave Toolies that night, and to see my quest for country come to an end. But after some last-minute West Coast swing with Thomas, Paul and Todd ushered me firmly out the door.

Oh yes, and my apologies to Joan--not once did I dance with Todd!

GUIDEBOOK

Phoenix Honky-tonks

There are more than 70 nightspots in the Phoenix area that offer country entertainment. For up-to-date listings, pick up free copies of Country Spirit and New Times, available on news racks and in music, clothing and grocery stores.

To do the Arizona honky-tonk scene, it helps to dress the part: Men, not women, wear hats. Prairie skirts are for the older and heavier set. Round-toed ropers are preferred over pointy-toed cowboy boots. Likewise, Wranglers over Levis.

Where to go: Denim & Diamonds, 3905 E. Thomas Road, Phoenix. Located in Tower Plaza, the club is open 4 p.m.-1 a.m. Sunday through Thursday, to 2 a.m. Friday and Saturday. Disc jockeys play a mix of 67% country/33% rock and roll. Sundays and Mondays, free country dance lessons offered; on Thursdays, long-necks sell for 44 cents 6-10 p.m.

Graham Central Station, 4029 N. 33rd Ave., Phoenix. Located in Price Club Plaza, the club is closed Monday, open 6 p.m.-1 a.m. Tuesday through Thursday, 4 p.m.-2 a.m. Friday, 6 p.m.-2 a.m. Saturday, 5 p.m.-1 a.m. Sunday. Free dance lessons given Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Saturdays and Sundays, 6:30 p.m. Thursday night is ladies night (no cover charge and drink specials).

Harold’s Cave Creek Corral, 6895 E. Cave Creek Road, Cave Creek. Hours are 9 a.m.-1 a.m. Monday through Thursday, 8 a.m.-1 a.m. Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

Horny Toad, 6738 E. Cave Creek Road, Cave Creek. Hours are 11 a.m.-11 p.m. Monday through Saturday, to 10 p.m. Sunday.

Toolies Country Saloon and Dance Hall, 4231 W. Thomas Road, Phoenix. With live country music starting at 8 p.m. seven days a week, the club is open 8 a.m.-1 a.m. Monday through Thursday, 7 a.m.-1 a.m. Friday, 10 a.m.-1 a.m. Saturday and Sunday. Free dance lessons are given on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Where to shop: Boot Barn, 2949 N. Scottsdale Road, Scottsdale. More than 5,000 pairs of boots at reasonable prices.

Porter’s of Scottsdale, 3944 N. Brown Ave., Scottsdale (with a branch in Terminal 3 at Phoenix’s Sky Harbor International Airport). Arizona-based Porter Co. has been in business since 1875. Boots are Porter’s biggest business, with about 20,000 pairs sold annually.

Saba’s Western Stores, 7254 Main St., Scottsdale. Sells a full line of Western wear for the whole family.

For more information: Contact the Phoenix and Valley of the Sun Convention and Visitors Bureau, 1 Arizona Center, 400 E. Van Buren St., Suite 600, Phoenix, Ariz. 85004, (602) 254-6500.