What happens in Vegas..

In one day you can go from one of the most incredible natural wonders of the world to one of the most incredible un-natural wonders of the world.  Las Vegas makes you wonder.  You have to wonder what it is, how it got there, where is the sense in it and, most of all, WHY?  Why did someone make it and why do people keep going there in such droves?  Ok, the former “why” is easy to answer: money.  The latter “why” is somewhat harder to answer.

The spirit of Las Vegas

The contrast between the Grand Canyon and Las Vegas could not be starker.  In some respects, though, they have similarities.   Both keep you spellbound, both instill in you a sense of wonder, and both give you a sense of how insignificant humanity is.

Walking down the strip in Las Vegas made me feel like I had ADH.  Everything was loud, strident, garish and constantly grabbing your attention.  Flashing lights, loud sudden noises, people in your face.  Concentrate?   I don’t think so!  Perhaps that is what the makers of Las Vegas are hoping for.  It is hard to make rational decisions when you are on sensory overload.  Then they offer you to drinking, gambling, and sex.

Foolproof formula.

The streets, food and shows are fun and interesting.  The gambling is just sad.  Everything is over the top on the streets and, if you take it with a sense of humour, it can be fun.  Hotels that look like an Egyptian Pyramid, New York City, France, Ancient Rome and Medieval Castles are amusing, if somewhat tacky.  It is kind of like a three bedroom rancher with half a dozen broken down vehicles in the yard and an Imperial Lion on the front porch.

Telen with the Belagio and Caesar's Palace in the Background - Vegas Strip

Some of the shows are great.  Elton John has a permanent show at Caesar’s palace and we considered going there but just didn’t have an extra $500.00 each to cough up.  David Copperfield has a show at the MGM Grand and there is, of course, Circe de Soleil that has two permanent shows.   All of which are prohibitive for two unemployed vagrants. 

I tried to bring in some extra cash by appearing in a Vegas show.  No, it was not one of those shows.  I promised I would not do those anymore…  We went to the Mac King Comedy Magic Show.  He came down into the audience and picked me to be his victim on stage.  After the show when I went to get my paycheque he just stared at me.  Similar to reaction I use to get when I did the “other” kind of show…  The show was very funny and his magic was amazing.  We both ended up with our sides aching from laughing and our minds spinning with trying to figure out how he did the tricks.  Well worth it.

The Mac King Comedy and Magic Show

The gambling brings the whole thing down, however.  Telen and I walked through the MGM Grand hotel Casino.  It was our first view of an actual Casino and we were anxious to see all the fancy gambling equipment, the wealthy handsome men in Tuxes and the gorgeous women in fancy ball gowns.  You know, like in the movies.  Movies are to Casinos what beer commercials are to drunkenness. 

We had a coffee at the Starbucks in the MGM Grand and did some people watching.  The image that sticks in my mind is of the unkempt, overweight, woman in a stained shirt and blue jeans sitting at a slot machine with a cigarette in one hand, a drink next to her relentlessly feeding her money into the slot machine to purchase the sound of bells ringing and lights flashing.  Most of the people we saw there did not look as if they had the money to support their tobacco and alcohol habits much less gambling. 

Harrah's Casino

As we were heading back to the hotel there appeared on the street a myriad of people handing out business cards of young ladies who really wanted to meet me without their clothes on.  I know prostitution is legal in Nevada and, I understand, government regulated, but I did not know the magnitude of the business.   There are either a huge number of women employed in the trade or a few very, very busy ones.  I guess the regulation of prostitution is of some benefit to the women in that they are not victimized by some vicious, lowlife pimp – they are victimized by a vicious low-life government.

Apparently some of these women will offer you a thing called a GFE.  It stands for “Girl-Friend Experience”.  They get moody and quiet when you don’t pay enough attention to them, angry with you when you look at other women, they won’t let you drink, gamble or act silly, they will groan at your jokes and tell you to grow up.  Then, at bedtime, they will be tired and have a headache.  

And you pay for this?

There are shows here directed at women as well.  There is the usual Chippendale’s show and a show called Australian Thunder, the poster for which shows a dozen men with full heads of hair and six packs.  I went in to see if they wanted to employ me and showed them that I put all those six-packs to shame with my keg.  They just stared at me and had a couple of very large Italian men show me to the door and out of it and across the street without touching the ground.  I guess they didn’t want me to make their show look lame. 

Vegas is one of those places that you have to put into perspective.  There is a feeling that all the glitz, lights and noise is a polished veneer over a dark and twisted interior. If you take it seriously it can make you cry but if you consider it  as an adult Disneyland without the whimsy you have to laugh...

Telen writes:

The transition from the awesome experience of the Grand Canyon to the man-made glitter of Las Vegas was quite a shock to me.  Everywhere I looked on the main street of “Las Vegas Boulevard” there was something flashing and blinking.  Within 3 blocks, I saw the Egyptian pyramid and the Sphinx, the Eiffel Tower and Champs Elysee, and the Empire State Building.  It rained quite heavily part of the day we were there but this unusually wet weather for the desert did not really matter to most people.  Within every casino, one can gamble, sleep in the lovely rooms upstairs, eat-all-you-want buffets and smoke anywhere you like inside the building, 24/7.  How fascinating!

For me, I enjoyed experiencing the over-the-top Las Vegas but a one-day stay was plenty for me.  I felt sensory overloaded by the late afternoon.  As we were walking back to our hotel 2 blocks away, numerous shills strategically positioned themselves at every corner shoving cards with pictures of seductive ladies in various poses to Rand.  I of course forbade Rand from collecting these (though he would have liked to, I think).  There were several trucks with billboards advertising “Girls, Girls, Girls.  We deliver to your door within 20 minutes” continually cruising up and down the Las Vegas Boulevard. 

   

Life on the Edge

The Grand Canyon - our first glimpse

After leaving Santa Fe and their artistic license we headed through Indian country.  Apparently down here it is OK to refer to the aboriginal people as Indians.  I guess throughout most of the US there is no concern about confusing them with the Indians from India.  I prefer to refer to them as First Nations since they were here first and Columbus called them Indians since he was dazed, lost, confused and did not want Queen Isabella to think that he had not found his way to India.  

The tribes that have inhabited this area are the Navajo, Hopi and the Zuni.  We drove through the world’s largest Indian Reservation between Santa Fe and Gallup New Mexico.  The First Nations peoples that lived here had to be tough and resourceful.   Although the land may be able to support life it looks arid and forbidding to me.  I might last a day or two – maybe longer if I had water (I have LOTS of reserves!).  But I don’t think I could thrive and still have enough moxie to produce beautiful works of art.  Actually, even in my pampered existence, I don’t have enough moxie to produce beautiful works of art.

We came across an accident with 2 Semi’s ending up tail-to-tail on the median.

We also noticed the prevalence of Casinos and Adult Superstores along the road.  Not just here in Nevada, but everywhere. This is a dangerous combination.  You have an angry, scared, sexually aroused truck driver on the road who is thinking about how to get his wife into bed while explaining why he has no money left.  A recipe for disaster on many levels.

We managed to have a Thanksgiving dinner!

Sort of.   The hotel we stayed at had a microwave so we headed to the grocery store to see what we could see.  The moment we walked into the store I could smell turkey.   Telen suggested that it was just wishful thinking and I should stop whining.  But, she was wrong! (How often do I get to say THAT!)  They had, in their deli section, something that they called “Pot-roasted Turkey”.  We were delighted.  So we got a potato, a yam, some frozen veggies and the turkey.   Everything turned out great except the turkey.   Pot roasted turkey is like sticky, salty boiled turkey, if you can imagine that…   At least it wasn’t deep-fried.

On to the Grand Canyon!   Think about this.   I have a fear of heights, as you may know from my entries about the Cabot Trail, so now we go to one of the deepest holes in the ground to look into it.  How rational is this?  I sense a certain element of masochism creeping into my psyche.  However, I know that the Grand Canyon is someplace that should not be missed and Telen really, really wanted to see it.  So did I… but with a huge element of trepidation.

The place we were staying at in the Grand Canyon did not seem to have an address as such – merely that it was The Holiday Inn on route 69.  That is what we programmed into the GPS and headed merrily on our way.  The GPS is possessed.  When we took a turn that seemed counter-intuitive I put my faith in the GPS and we continued.  We drove through absolute desert and no other cars seemed to be around – which seemed odd to me when the road lead to such a popular tourist site.  We turned west again and after 20 minutes the GPS happily announced that we were arriving at “the Holiday Inn on the left”.  There was nothing there. Literally.  Rock, dirt and hills made up of rock and dirt. 

I climbed out of the car and started to unload the baggage and muttered under my breath that I hoped we weren’t paying very much for this hotel…   Telen sighed and started playing with the GPS and determined that the hotel was, in fact, another 40 minutes down the road and that we had merely come another route.  On we drove until we reached the Grand Canyon Park entrance – the East Entrance.  The park attendant at the gate seemed to be surprised to see us and actually looked as if we had just woken him up.  The route we now had to travel was right along the south rim of the Grand Canyon for about 40 minutes…

And I was driving.

Can you believe I am looking over the edge?!

The Grand Canyon is beyond words.  I does not matter how many descriptive words you use, how many flowery phrases or poetic statements you make you cannot convey the impact it has on you.  I did not think something like a canyon or a mountain or any other natural wonder would ever affect me emotionally but I got choked up when I had my first view of the canyon.

Telen - no fear!

There was another emotion that hit me when I first saw the canyon.  Abject terror.  In the American system of measurement it is as deep as three Empire State Buildings.   I am not sure of the conversion of ‘Empire State Buildings” to metric but I believe the depth of the canyon is about 2000 meters.  The width of the canyon was given in “Football fields” – again a term of measurement I am unfamiliar with – but I believe it varies from 13 to 23 kilometers.  Luckily the area where I stood to view the canyon first had a waist-high (0.8 meters) railing so I was able to stand there and look down into the canyon.   For most of the rim trail there is no barrier or railing.  No hiking there for me!  Apparently there have only been 50 deaths from people falling off the rim since 1840 when the park was incorporated.  Watching the antics of some of the people on that trail I find that figure hard to believe. 

We also got to see a California Condor. There are only 400 left and only about 80 of those call the Grand Canyon home.  They have a wingspan of about three meters (or, in the American system: one and a half basketball players).  I know, I know – another indication of geekiness – getting excited about seeing a huge carrion eating bird.  I am what I am!

At the hotel, as we were unloading the baggage into the room I got the biggest scare of the trip.  I took the baggage cart back down to the lobby and as I was getting out of the elevator there were two very rotund men loaded down with junk food standing at the elevator waiting to get in.  I placed the luggage cart beside the elevator and thought I could squeeze back in with them to go back up.  Both men were wearing handguns on their belts and one had a t-shirt on that said “ I carry a gun every day”.   Handguns!  Neither man had all his teeth or all his gray cells.

I took another elevator.

This weapons thing down here is so strange.  At a rest stop today I saw a bookshelf with “inspirational” books on it (all Christian).   One was entitled “Satan, You cannot have my Children: Spiritual Warfare Weapons for every Parent”.  Right beside the bookshelf was a huge display for knives for “self-defense”.  We went in for lunch and while were eating in walked a man, who looked like a Disney-drawing of a hill-billy, and sat at the next table and he had a strapped down pistol on his hip.  Obviously waiting for high noon.   That happened near a café called the “Roadkill Café” (not kidding!)

Telen and I agreed that we are glad to be Canadian.

The Grand Canyon at sunset

Telen writes:

I have always wanted to see the Grand Canyon.  I have seen pictures of the place and often admired its immense rugged beauty.  When I finally saw the Canyon, I was choked up…wordless.  Its physical immensity, the layers of changing colors, and unfathomable span of time in its existence, all of these overwhelm me.  A couple from California asked me to take their picture with the Canyon in the background.  The lady said she could not stop crying when she saw the Canyon.

Rand bravely came with me to the Canyon in show of support.  Unfortunately he was driving when we had our first encounter with the Canyon, about 35 km from the park gate.  The speed limit here was 120 km/hr.  I was worried that he might lose control of the car if he saw the cliffs coming up.  I reminded him a couple of times to keep his eyes and attention on the windy road, to the point that he yelled “don’t you dare say this ONE MORE TIME!”  So I kept my silence grudgingly but only for a few seconds as he exclaimed “Holy #@*&!”

“You looked, didn’t you?” I said.

I could see Rand’s hands clenching the steering wheel, face white, frozen solid. I thought this was rather comical when I looked back once we arrived in the park safely.

More Grand Canyon at Sunset