Cobmin Ridge Motel

Sammy Danko

Clean and cozy.

David Pezak

Cheap convenient and the staff will work with you. It's not the cleanest but you get what you pay for and you can't really beat the price if your in a jam for the night.

Elizabeth Kymer

I have been at the motel since december 31st. I found it alittle dirty but nothing i couldnt wash up. The owners are very nice n willing to correct anything. Ive been here 9 months n i havent seen not 1 bedbug.

Tom Putty

Almost exactly 1 year ago today, my step-son and I spent an evening at this motel. As a backdrop, he and I travel together a LOT representing our little sauce company, and we've stayed in some very interesting places. I have to say that our evening at this "fine" establishment was an especially memorable one. I strongly feel that the English language is incapable of properly articulating the experience we endured. In all sincerity, I hardly even know where to begin. If you've ever lived on the streets -- as in, the inner city streets, not some suburbia excuse for homelessness, but the truly rancid human equivalent of living like a rodent, or a cockroach -- then perhaps your stay here will be most enjoyable. For the rest of western civilization, herein lies an opportunity to get a little glimpse into what it must have been like to be towards society's lower rungs during the Dark Ages. Don't get me wrong! There is electricity, running water, and a toilet, so it is not an altogether 3rd world experience, nor entirely on par with spending the night in a maggot infested dumpster in a back alleyway. I mean, there is a shower, for example ... if you don't mind the shower curtain being so caked with mold and mildew that it takes genuine effort to pull the individual folds apart. It was not simply sticky ... each pleat was solidly stuck to the other by a more than moderate layer of black and other unappealing colored muck that must have taken some time to accumulate to such appalling levels. On a positive note: the owners do take the time and effort to press together slivers of used soap from prior guests and leave them available for you on the soap tray as a loosely knit "semi-bar." No, there were no unopened mini bars of soap to use in the stead of this conglomerate of tiny, used slivers; that was your soap. Perhaps the owners are of the opinion that other leftover soap embedded with pubic and other random body hairs somehow provides a unique exfoliating benefit not found elsewhere upon this strange planet we call home; I know not. Thank god I keep an old pair of Crocs in the van with me when I travel. The funk on the shower floor was equally as repulsive. In the spirit of full disclosure, I must admit that it contained more filth than the worst of the worse public showers I've ever encountered in my short 52 years. It defied belief to a level where I believe it would surely qualify for an episode of Dirty Jobs with Mike Rowe, or at least a more than mildly bizarre episode of "World's Weirdest." To call the shower floor "gross" would be an insult to many of this world's foulest receptacles of refuse. At evening's end we decided we had possibly hit rock bottom after being cornered into some truly freakish bouts of one sided conversation with a couple of the "natives" ... or, should I say, weekly tenants, quite possibly escapees from the local residential rehab or sanitorium. After gracefully breaking free from the vortex of the bizarre that enshrined the pair of would-be new friends, we shook our heads, calling it a night and looking over our respective double beds, Will chuckled and said, "Well, at least the beds aren't plagued with bugs." That misguided assumption was instantly exposed for the delusion it was as he pulled the bed cover back to expose his pillow; to wit, a little minion straight from the bowels of perdition scampered hurriedly across. I slept, atop my bed cover, fully clothed and with a hoodie pulled over my head, my ear holes stuffed with my ear bud headphones in the hopes that none of the of denizens of darkness would invade said space. This "adventure" served a powerful lesson. If nothing else, we view any motel hanging a sign that reads, "ABSOLUTELY NO REFUNDS" with suspicion ... no, scratch that: with utter disdain and a healthy sense of fear. It is truly a shame that the lowest rating we can offer is a full sized one star. A fraction of a star would still be too much.