TheBakersfieldCalifornian.com

As a great man once sang, "You've got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em. Know when to walk away, know when to run." I felt as if Kenny Rogers was there with me at Eagle Mountain Casino last Saturday, urging me to cash out at the slot machine at which I had just won nearly $300.

Of course that imagery may have been inspired by "The Gambler"-themed machine I passed earlier in the evening. Not being a very enthusiastic gambler myself, I took the money and ran ... after a lively evening of music, food and mountain air.

The adventure started in the afternoon, when my pal Cindy, her aunt Ann and I headed up Highway 190. Knowing there was a sold-out show that night -- I was lucky enough to have tickets for Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers -- we left town just after 4.

For those who don't take the bus, which leaves Bakersfield daily, it's a long and winding road worthy of The Beatles. Thankfully, I wasn't driving the curvy mountainous route and could enjoy the calm vistas of farmland on the hour-and-a-half drive.

After parking, the clean mountain air carried the savory scent of prime beef from The River Steakhouse to us, which helped us settle our dinner plans. Or so we thought.

"We've got to live it up," said Ann, an occasional Eagle Mountain visitor, who also noted that "this is the most people I've seen (at the casino)."

But the only beef I had was with the completely booked restaurant, which left us with Plan B: the buffet (more on our experience in the accompanying box).

Still, with Steve Martin and the slots awaiting us, the evening wasn't really about the food. Cindy and I jumped in line for about a half-hour before the show started. The line snaked rather inefficiently through the narrow paths of the casino floor, an arrangement that probably was due to the threatening skies, which opened up after the show.

Once inside, we got the lay of the land. The VIP seating consisted of folding chairs in the center of the venue, which can hold about 600, max, and a few hundred more in the general admission riser seating, where we sat. Bleachers are reserved for Tule River Tribal members (though I had my doubts that the folks I saw making their way to the seating were tribe members. Security!).

Not a veteran concertgoer, I was just excited to see a live show by an iconic entertainer. Others in the primarily middle-age-and-older crowd were not as forgiving of the accomodations, if the sarcasm in the remarks I overheard was any indication.

"This is high class, people. Watch out!"

"I didn't know we were watching a high school football game. Did you bring your binoculars?"

But the affable (and quite funny) Martin charmed even the most churlish among us, kicking off the night with some jokes.

"It has been a longtime dream to play at the Eagle Mountain Casino at the Tule River Indian Reservation. Tonight I feel I am one step closer to that dream."

The venue posed some issues for the performer, who joked about the sound while taking time to tune his banjo.

"We have a little trouble with the sound. It could be a real acoustic show."

Later, he mentioned that it was hard to hear over the generators -- "it's like the roar of another audience" -- which was the case during some of the banter.

Remaining humble, Martin acknowledged the talent of the Rangers.

"They are not my band. I am their celebrity."

The performance, which lasted about an hour and a half, was a mix of songs and repartee between Martin and the five-piece bluegrass band.

The comedian acknowledged his rather high-tech method of keeping track of his set list, which he puts on an iPad.

"My audience demands it. I can tweet from here."

(That was particularly funny given the lack of cell phone reception at the casino. This digital blackout was especially painful as I found out Whitney Houston had died while on the drive up, but couldn't stay up to date on the news.)

Martin took a brief break about halfway through, pulling a banana out of the back of Charles Humphrey's upright bass to snack on.

The show closed with an encore of "Orange Blossom Special," which featured the exceptional talents of Nicky Charles on violin, who touched on a variety of well-known tunes (including "The Simpsons" theme) during a solo.

Going in, I didn't know how much comedy would factor into the show, but Martin kept the laughs coming, with the help of his band of straight men. The musical performance was as lively as the banter, and I'm sorry I didn't pick up the CD (which would have involved standing in line).

After the concert, it was time to hit the slots. I promptly lost my self-alloted $35 on two machines, and Cindy burned through her money as well.

We found Ann up a couple hundred dollars on the less prestigious machines, and she gave us each a $20 bill to try our luck again.

This time I struck gold on a Quick Hit Platinum machine, hitting a bonus for 20 spins that bumped my $20 to $292.98. Faster than you can say "Tule River Indian Tribe," I hit the print voucher button after the final free spin.

(I know my parents will be disappointed, as they convinced me to keep going on a machine that paid out when I was 21. But I learned my lesson that long-ago day -- when my jackpot dwindled before our eyes -- and my paycheck has only reinforced my "take the money and run" attitude.)

Cindy fared almost as well, making back the money she had spent, as did her aunt. Breaking even, or about that, has usually been my experience, so I think this casino delivers on that front.

Having never been to Eagle Mountain, I was excited to go somewhere new, and there is plenty to attract anyone with a gambling spirit and some time to kill.

There are opportunities to win Mustangs and cash drawings if you join the casino's Summit Club, but I'll resist the risk-taking impulse -- unless another wild and crazy guy comes to play or someone guarantees me a steak.