More Travels 4--Ending on High Note

Ending on High Note

"It goes to 30 degrees below zero here in the winter," said Andy, as we got in the car in Richfield, Utah, this morning.  The desk clerk had told him that they had one day last winter that never went above four degrees below zero. "What I didn't know in planning this trip was that October is one of the biggest tourist months for Utah."

Clouds move out as we head east.

Interstate 70 winds between
mountain ranges.

As we headed east at 9:30 a.m., the clouds parted. The sun drew water in radiating rays over the mountains. "Those are the mountains of the Fish Lake National Forest," said Andy. "There are a lot of peaks over 11,500 feet in there but no ski areas. Imagine the snow!" Yesterday we had snow over the 9,500 foot elevation level.
Outside of Salina, Utah, a sign said, "No bull, no gas next 110 miles." We stopped to fill up--just in case. We didn't need much; good thing, since their gas was 35 cents more a gallon. Actually, Andy just wanted to wash the windshield.

Mountains in the distance that reach more than 11,000 feet
are already snow covered by mid-October.

 Interstate #70 winds between mountains with the summit pass at 7,886 feet. Skirting expansive ranches on each side, the road offers glimpses of peak upon peak in the distance. Utah jumper and red cedar blanketed the slopes with swaths of brilliant yellow aspen and brown oak quivering in the five-to-ten m.p.h. breeze. Tan sandstone outcroppings capped some higher peaks and encircled many lower ones. At times a creek bed followed the highway. Next to it on the adjoining dirt road we noticed Black Angus cows grazing placidly. It was 37 degrees when I hopped out in shirt sleeves to take pictures.
Then suddenly everything changed. On top of the plateau, sage dominated. It was just as cold--43 degrees--but the trees disappeared and rolling black hills and clay riddled badlands slopes took the place of the sandstone.

The highway cuts through the 400-foot
high San Rafael Reef.

Puffy cumulus clouds enveloped the peaks, as we turned around and drove back an exit for pictures and to leisurely enjoy the scenery. Out here one exit was 18 miles one way. By the time we drove back those 18 miles, the cumulus clouds had turned dark underneath and dropped down. "Do you think that's snow?" I asked Andy.
"Yeh," he answered. "Up there they could easily carry snow."

Clouds clear near Miller's Canyon.

As he pulled off the exit at Miller's Canyon for more photographs, he said, "Everywhere you look there's a picture." The dirt road offered no services, but the scenery was amazing.
"This is one gorgeous drive," said Andy. He pulled off into a Rest Area at San Rafael Swell. Navajos sold jewelry and pottery spread out on the ground around the parking lot.
"The pottery looked like the mass produced variety," said Andy, "and you don't need any more jewelry."
"But need and want are two different things," I told him.
He won. I took pictures. 

The pullout at Black Canyon, part of the San Rafael Reef,
includes spectacular views of the canyon walls.

This large geologic anticline is located between Castle Dale, Green River, Price and Hanksville. It began its formation 50 million years ago. Over time the sandstone has slowly been lifted, and through erosion many cliffs and canyons have been carved. Enormous pressures from a deep basement fault have pushed Wingate and Navajo sandstone on the Eastern edge, the "San Rafael Reef," near vertical. 
On the other side of the Swell were badlands in pink and red and green and grey. "The mountains suck out every last drop of moisture. This land gets almost nothing," said Andy, "and from the looks of the clouds behind us, the mountains are getting rain or snow right now." Here it was 37 degrees and sunny.
Black Canyon Overlook was higher with even grander views. But here too Navajos spread their wares. "There will be more," said Andy, "and they all look the same."

Skeletons of Utah juniper trees accentuate
the top of the plateau at Black Canyon.

"Not quite so," I thought to myself. I didn't see the hematite necklace I had admired at the last stop.

Spotted Wolfe Canyon cuts into the San
Rafael Swell, part of the 30-mile reef.

Ghost Rock Pullout was empty of visitors. We photographed the landscape, but the rock itself had been vandalized with graffiti. It's such a shame that people have such needs to leave their marks. And it IS different from the ancient petroglyphs and pictographs. They took time and creative imagination; they are art.

After turning around on the highway
in order to see the scenery, we view Spotted
Wolfe Canyon from both directions.

From the highway the views of the
San Rafael Reef are magnificent.

Spotted Wolf Canyon  Overlook was already a couple miles descent, but the scenic pullout was still incredibly beautiful. I read that construction workers dangled 400 feet down from the top to build this roadway through San Rafael Reef. It was only two lanes wide. It wasn't widened to four lanes until the mid-1980's.

Black Dragon Canyon blooms with
yellow flowers in the mid-October cold.

Black Dragon Canyon on the other side of the road gave us a totally different perspective from Black Canyon. We turned around in a crossover that was not marked "no U-turn" to drive back up the six-mile climb. We had the time, and it was THAT beautiful. "I can see this as another trip," said Andy, "with time to hike and explore. And this is the land nobody wanted!"

Sandstone is lifted in almost vertical layers
at Black Dragon Canyon.

Off to our right, a cloud touched the ground. "I imagine it's raining over there," said Andy.
Temple Mountain Road was our first safe and legal opportunity to head back the other direction. From the sandstone formation, I could see why it was named Temple Mountain.
By 3:01 p.m. we were back in Colorado. "It's still cold," said Andy. The air temperature was 55 degrees.

Leaving the San Rafael Reef, the
skies clear over the plateau.

We returned the car to Budget at the Grand Junction Airport as agreed and walked back to the motel. Never did 30 days go by so quickly. But maybe we won't wait a whole year for our next "Retirement Trip."

Heading Back Home

A record low was tied today at 30 degrees in Grand Junction as we packed up our belongings and left for the airport.
It would be a long flight, but it had been a great trip.

More Travels 4--Winter!!

Western Winter Weather

The state of Utah opens Kolob Canyon,
a part of Zion National Park.
 

The government officials still aren’t talking. “I think the extension on the National Debt runs out on Thursday, and today is the deadline to get anything done,” said Andy. The extent of the shutdown was confirmed as we drove east. All the pull-offs in the Virgin River Gorge, maintained by the Bureau of Land Management, were cordoned off. “They’ve had time now to close off everything,” commented Andy, when we parked at the top of an exit ramp to take pictures.

Views in Kolob Canyon are breathtaking.

We stopped in Mesquite and St. George for visitor information, but it was more for a break from driving. “No snow on these mountains,” said Andy, as we left St. George. The car thermometer read 70 degrees.

Trees change in the mid-October cold.

But by the time we reached Kolob Canyon, it was cold—51 degrees to be exact. Utah had opened the national parks in the hopes the federal government would reimburse the state, so this part of Zion National Park welcomed visitors.

Yellow flowers add color to the
already colorful canyon.

The five-mile drive along the canyon was bathed in color—red sandstone, yellow scrub oak, green Utah juniper and cedar, grey sagebrush, and yellow, red and white wild flowers.

The deeper in we drive, the higher
the stone walls rise up.

We have a 360-degree view
near the end of Overlook Trail.

If Kolob is the rainbow, the Overlook Trail at the end of the drive is the pot of gold. A half-mile, one-way trail led out to a point with a 360-degree view. Accented with sandstone slabs and boulders, the well-maintained path climbed up along the ridge top about 150 feet.

Clouds hug the tops of the sandstone peaks.

But the views were worth the effort it took at nearly 7,000 feet above sea level. Everyone we met thought so. I took pictures in every direction.

Andy waits patiently while I adjust camera
settings for bright light and high altitude.

“It’s two-and-a-half hours to our motel in Richfield, Utah,” said Andy, getting back into the car after our last photo stop, “but the Ranger said Cedar Breaks is open. October is a huge vacation month for the parks in Utah, so the Utah State Legislature is funding the parks for ten days.”
I hopped in and buckled up. “So we stop in Cedar Breaks for another hike?” I asked.

Utah opens Cedar Breaks National Monument
 in spite of last week's snowfall. 

Near the 10,000-foot elevation, snow
covers the landscape.

“Yup, but only for the pull-offs. We won’t have time to hike,” he said, and we were off.
From the road into Cedar Breaks, we could see snow on the mountains in the distance. “And that’s not just a little on the peak,” said Andy.
On the top of Webster Flat the ground was covered. Here winter had set in already. The aspen quivering with brilliant color down below stood as naked sticks at the higher elevations. It was 41 degrees, and we were dressed in shorts.


At Point Supreme even the hot sun doesn't melt the snow.

“You’ll really get snow now,” said Andy, turning left toward Cedar Breaks. We continued to climb, and the temperature dropped to 36 degrees. My camera lens fogged up at Spectra Point, 10,285 feet, because of the cold.
Near the Visitor Center at Point Supreme, 10,365 feet, the Park Rangers recorded 25 degrees this morning when Las Vegas was 71. “Today would have been their last day of the season,” said Andy, “if this had been a regular season. Since it’s extended now, they are open until Sunday.”

Sunset View from the Visitor Center Overlook lives
up to its name in the late afternoon.

Sunset View from the Visitor Center Overlook offered absolutely perfect shadows at 4:30 p.m.
Chessman Ridge Overlook, at 10,467 feet, was 36 degrees. Andy said, “I’m not cold, but I can really feel the elevation.”
My legs were numb. Snow blanketed the ground around the Douglas fir trees. Winter had already come to the high country of Utah.
North View, at 10,435 feet, had ice coating the path in spite of the blinding sun going down. “It’s even more beautiful in the winter,” said Andy. “The snow on that red sandstone. WOW!”

We freeze at the rugged crest of Chessman Ridge Overlook.

We didn’t try the dirt road to Brian Head. It was icy and muddy, but the main road was open all the way down.

From North View we see the snow and
ice covering on the landscape.

Clouds hang over the lower elevations
as we head down from the
mountains toward Richfield, Utah.

We followed I-#15 to Richfield, Utah, through spectacular rural countryside between the mountains. Three major mountain peaks rose on our right: Mount Belknap, 12,119-feet; Delano Peak, 12,169; and Mount Hawley, 11,999 feet. We also passed Signal Peak, 11,223 feet, which looked red in the fading daylight.
Andy stopped for photos, but I leaned out the car window to take more. The speed limit was 80 m.p.h. We made it to Richfield before total darkness.

More Travels 4--Vegas and Finale

Vegas and Vacation Finale

It’s another beautiful day in the Nevada desert with temperatures in the mid-70’s by 11:00 a.m.
We had breakfast at Palace Station and then headed downtown. People checked out, waited in line for coffee-to-go, dragged their suitcases across the cobble foyer and generally prepared to depart, even on a holiday weekend. A few sat numbly in front of slot machines.  “I never could understand how so many can look so blank so early in the morning,” said Andy. “Do they just play all night until the lose all of their money?”
We got taken by surprise at breakfast. Yesterday’s buffet was $4.99 a person with the Players Club card. “You may purchase two breakfasts with your card,” the clerk told Andy. He had read Anthony Curtis’s review that the Palace Station had the best breakfast buffet value in Las Vegas. And it was delicious!  “You can’t eat at Burger King for $#4.99 a person,” said Andy.
But today the price was $8.99 a person. It was Sunday Brunch. Surprise! But we had omelets made to order, prime rib and apple crisp for breakfast. That was WITH the Players Club discount. “I wonder what it costs without the discount,” mused Andy.
“Double up,” I told him. This time I wasn’t kidding. The couple ahead of us had to pay it. I overheard the clerk. “You’re a foursome and the Players Club card is only good for two,” she said. “You can go down to the Cage in the Casino and apply for another card if you want to.”
“No,” said the customer.
“Okay,” she answered. “Then it’s $16.99 a person.”

At Ethel M Chocolate Company a three-acre cactus garden
shows off rare and exotic plants.

Except for the Golden Nugget, downtown was dead. We walked through the mall to Fremont Street, watched a spray paint artist work, stepped in and out of a couple shops, had our parking ticket validated and headed out.
We drove the whole Strip back and forth to downtown. It’s nice to have some stop and go,” said Andy. “That way I get a chance to look around.” At night the traffic is humongous and all the flashing lights; erratic, confused visiting drivers; drunk and inattentive pedestrians; construction sites and disappearing traffic lanes make driving a car challenging and downright dangerous.
Ethel M Chocolate Company, owned by Mars, Inc., has cut back too. Only one line operated and that was a packing line for heart-shaped boxes of solid chocolate Valentine hearts. But it was Sunday. Two girls packed the chocolate pieces of candy, just like Lucy and Ethyl in the classic I Love Lucy sit-com segment.
“Boy, do they have to move fast,” said Andy.
We each chose a nickel-size sample of dark chocolate. No more “pick-any-piece-you-would-like-to-try” sample.

The huge orange flowers of the Prickly Pear cactus
add a splash of color to the desert at Ethel M's gardens.

We walked the gardens. It took ten times longer than the factory tour. I was interested in the different kinds of prickly pear cactus. Many were not labeled, but I saw Mission Cactus, Cow’s Tongue, Rabbit Ears, Beaver Tail and Purple Prickly Pear, as well as Prickly Pear. They all looked somewhat alike. Covering three acres, the garden includes more than 350 rare and exotic plant species, but many plants had no labels. It was just pleasant to walk and browse.  We noticed holiday statues, a Santa sleigh and Christmas lights. The flier invited guests to visit from mid-November through January 1, when the garden is lit with more than half a million lights. “But they close at 6 p.m.,” said Andy. “That’s not much dark time to light up the garden.”

Prickly Pear fruit is used to make jelly.

Our show tickets to Jubilee, the only floor show extravaganza left in Las Vegas, read 10:00 p.m. The advertisement said 10:30 p.m., so we stopped at Bally’s to verify the time. It was our Grand Finale on the Las Vegas Strip.
“I was going to walk the other way down the Strip tonight,” said Andy, when we left Palace Station all dressed up. We browsed in windows at the Cosmopolitan and checked out the art at Aria Hotel and Casino. The shopping mall housed more exclusive stores—Dior, Louis Viton, Cartier—and beautiful beds of live flowers in colorful arrangements.
We stopped at El Diablo for a glass of white wine, two-for-one, but they still charged $10 a glass. They know how to tease! At the bar we met Andy from Brazil. “They call me Andy, but my name is Anderson,” he explained when we introduced ourselves. Andy Anderson spoke fluent English, but his three companions comprehended little. I couldn’t even try out my very limited Spanish. They spoke Portuguese. When Andy Anderson disappeared with his girlfriend, leaving the other couple at the bar with us, we invited the guy to have Andy’s second two-for-one beer and tried to explain in pantomime that we had show tickets at Bally’s. I think they got it!

The show Jubilee at Bally's was a lavish celebration of costumes, dancing and music with scenes from Delilah's Biblical betrayal of Samson, the sinking of the Titanic, the Rockettes chorus line, and the Fred Astaire dance era. Audience members oohed and aahed when a performer juggled huge metal frames and a couple executed gymnastic dancing while hanging from drapes near the ceiling.

The colors, the actions, the scenes, the costumes and head pieces were mesmerizing.

It was an incredible Grand Finale to our four days in Las Vegas.

More Travels 4--In and Out

The In and Out of Las Vegas

The road into the state park winds between rugged red hills.

They must all use the same architect to design the parking garages out here,” said Andy as he maneuvered the little black Ford Focus down the ramps of the Palace Station parking garage at 9:30 a.m.
We headed northeast toward Valley of Fire, a state park, since all the national parks and Bureau of Land Management federal areas were still closed. Fake ocotillo with orange metal blooms decorated the highway. “You mean to tell me even ocotillo can’t survive here!” Andy commented as he drove. “Even the creosote bushes look skimpy.” Twenty miles out of town a few dagger yuccas popped up.

Suddenly brilliant red rocks rise around us.

Inside the Valley of Fire State Park, 55 miles northeast of Las Vegas, red rocks just popped up out of nowhere.
The Beehives, a geological cross-bedding formation, drew the interest of a photography club, all shooting with tripods.

Spectacular sandstone formations etch the skyline.

We walked a couple short paths out to enclosed tree fossils. The huge trunks were from trees in an Araucarian forest more than 150 million years ago in the Age of Reptiles. The interpretive sign explained that the best known tree in this evergreen species is the Monkey Puzzle tree. Similar evergreens still grow today in South America and Australia. Here they probably succumbed to storm, fell and were washed to a low spot or bog where they lay buried for millions of years to turn to stone.
The weather was spectacular--hot sun and cool 73-degree breeze. Lots of other people had the same idea to come here on such a gorgeous Saturday. With photo pullouts everywhere, we tried to be selective, especially as the sun climbed overhead. Here, shadows play an important role in photography. They set off the formations and accent the color. At noon, it’s glaringly harsh.


Every turn brings new formations.

A blistering sun baked the dead red sand of the trail. It contrasted with the mounds of light brown Navajo sandstone, the interspersed red rock pillars and the hilltops of yellow and white conglomerate. We read that we should look out for desert tortoises. “Stay ten feet back,” said the sign. This endangered species holds water in a bladder, especially from eating grasses.  When frightened by people or dogs, the tortoises empty their bladders. It’s not a danger to tourists, but it threatens the life of the animal with a long, dry winter ahead.

A bright sun highlights the color.

The trail takes us deep into the interior of the formations.

Swirls in the red sandstone give Fire Wave Trail its name.

Andy’s map showed Duck Rock, but the dirt road from the parking area was closed. We walked in a generous half mile, but the old road and the trail that led off of it were both washed out  We might have scaled the gully, but the eight-foot drop in loose dirt looked precarious to me in shorts and tee-shirt. Andy agreed.   We headed back to the car.

Spectacular swirls make
solid rock look like pudding.

But just around the bend in the road was the .6-mile one-way trail to Fire Wave.
As we plodded back uphill through the ankle-deep sand, Andy told newcomers, “You’re almost there. It gets easier.”
I told them, “Keep going. It’s worth it!” And it was.
After the initial .2-mile stretch of dead, red sand, the trail crossed huge expanses of colored rock--                                                                                                                      red and yellow and tan and white sandstone. One stretch was scattered with hundreds of rocks and pebbles, pieces of black pumice and lava and shards of yellow chert. I wondered whether they washed down from higher elevations onto the flat expanse or were left from some long-gone remnant layer that had covered the sandstone.  The Fire Wave itself was a gigantic, twisted boulder of multi-colored layers of sandstone. It looked like a huge soft serve ice cream sundae.

At the halfway point in
the hike, Sue takes a break
at the top of the sundae.

On the way back, a desert iguana zipped across the trail ahead of me. He ran to hide under a yellow matchweed bush. We never saw any tortoises. We stopped at the Visitor Center. The high today went to 77 degrees, but in the summer temperatures often reach 120 degrees. Andy read that Valley of Fire averages four inches of rain a year.

Andy starts back along the trail.

The next stop was The Cabins, three circular stone houses built for shelter by the CCC in 1935.
We turned around at the Lake Mead Entrance. It was closed off anyway by the government shutdown.
The campground was full, but we drove part way in. Years ago—probably 30 or so—we had camped here a night before visiting Las Vegas. It was in July, and we were the only people in the campground. That night the wind whipped up, the tent shook, we had front and back flaps open to cool off, but the temperature never dropped below 97 degrees.

The sun going down sets off the
red sandstone formations.

Today was gorgeous and lots of people knew it. “I’ve never seen Valley of Fire so crammed with people,” said Andy. As we left about 4:00 p.m., three busloads of tourists pulled in. The Visitor Center closed at 6:00 p.m., and the park closed at dusk. They didn’t have much time.

At the Visitor Center, Sue
finds a nook in the
sandstone cliff.

In the meantime, a few states have caved in to pressure and opened national parks to visitors: Arizona, the Grand Canyon; New York, the Statue of Liberty; and Utah, just about all the parks. Ironically or not, Utah, conservative Tea Party Utah, wants reimbursement from the federal government.

Frank Marino in drag as
Joan Rivers hosts the show.

The Frank Marino Divas show at the Quad drew a huge and raucous audience. It was great!  Marino as Joan Rivers hosted an hour-and-a-half of songs by famous female vocalists, all performed by male impersonators. Most of them looked JUST like the real thing from our vantage point in table section B. Marino, in drag as Rivers, roasted Paris Hilton to a blackened crisp. Then he/she told the audience of the two Marino stars on the Las Vegas Boulevard Walk of Fame for the longest running show on the Strip and a Guinness World Record for the most costume changes—more than 350,000. The one-liners came so fast, we didn’t stop laughing and strained forward to catch every joke—like the suggestion that next flight he should report to the airport as she to go through security. Then the drag queen mused about what security might say as the body scanner moved upwards from the feet.
With each succeeding performer that Marino came on stage to introduce, Rivers appeared in a different gown.

The drag impersonator
who plays Cher bumps
and grinds on stage.

The supporting cast was incredible too:  Diana Ross, Cher, Madonna, Celine Dion, Reba McIntyre, Dolly Parton, Shania Twain, Tina Turner, Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, Liza Minnelli, Bette Midler and Whitney Houston. It was an incredible show.
Andy has voiced two pet peeves about Las Vegas: disappearing lanes and show seating. He’s justified. First, traffic lanes along the highway suddenly merge and disappear on the right without warning. It makes driving for an out-of-towner erratic and dangerous. Second, seating at shows is totally inconsistent. We bought tickets for Divas and chose our table and seats carefully from a chart in the Casino.  That’s a significant improvement over the old wait-in-line-an-hour-with-a-general-admissions-ticket and then tip-the-usher-to-move-up-closer method.  But this time all the chairs had been rearranged. We were at the back of a long table on one side instead of across from each other on the stage end. And I had confirmed the location of our seats when we purchased the tickets. “Those are your seats on the outside,” insisted the waitress. Ten minutes into the performance, she came back with a group of seven twenty-somethings. They had seats on both sides of the table, stood in the dark and argued about who would sit where, crowded over us and then changed their minds and switched. The waitress came back ten minutes later to confer with each about drink orders and again to deliver drinks. No consideration for the five of us who were on time in the first place and trying to watch the show! Much less the fact that they got the seats we chose in the first place!

Fountains sway in rhythm to the music.

Oh well, I stood quickly to snap pictures from the greater distance. And it was a great show.
We had a few minutes after Divas to hurry across the street for the 11:00 p.m. firing of the Mirage volcano. This time I was ready with camera settings.
Two young blondes stood on the street near the volcano. “They look high school age,” I told Andy. “They couldn’t be much more than 16.” Dressed in red knee hose, spike heels, blue bathing suit bottoms and white corset bodices, they waited for people to offer money for photographs. Show girls did the same thing on the other side of the street, along with all the Elvises, Depends diaper Man, Mickey and Minnie Mouse and a bunch of other movie and cartoon characters. But here the girls looked out of place, naively playing big girls in a dangerous world. “Enterprising or stupid,” I asked Andy. He knew what I meant.

Bellagio waters emphasize that Americans can be proud.

“Now we’re going to the Bellagio for the water fountain show,” said Andy. “It goes off every 15 minutes.”Weaving our way past a lone bride sans groom, drinking a beer at an outdoor hotel bar; around groups of partying tourists and families with small babies; past girls in super short skirts and guys with birthday ties, around ladies in glittery cocktail dresses and men in business attire, and past scruffy beggars and grungy sex solicitors, we crossed two overhead passageways to the Bellagio.

The second show played on
soft, swaying sprays.

At 11:30 p.m. the Bellagio waters danced to “I’m Proud to Be an American.” The young dude next to me sang softly along with the music. I wanted to shout it out. Chills played on my spine, until I saw a vet write out his homeless sign nearby.

The Grand Finale awes onlookers.

“Let’s stay for one more show,” suggested Andy. I certainly didn’t need any coaxing. With this song, much mellower in movement, the waters swayed to a Viennese Waltz and then built to one huge 40-foot crescendo. What an awesome finale! It was a lovely way to end an evening.

More Travels 4--Las Vegas

Las Vegas, Believe It or Not!

Approaching Hoover Dam and Lake Mead from the South,
we catch a glimpse of water in the distance.

If an organization pays its own way to the federal government, it is allowed to remain open during the shutdown. Hoover Dam was open and absolutely crammed with visitors on Friday morning. Between Columbus Day weekend vacationers and tourists blocked from national parks by the shutdown, everyone showed up at the dam.

Little grows due to lack of rainfall.
Vegas gets about four inches a year.

We finally found a parking place in upper lot #13. Lucky! Then we walked down for views of the dam.

The parking lots high above the dam off spectacular views
of the dam and the intake stations.

"In three years if the water level continues to drop," said Andy, "it will be below the intake pipes. And no one seems to know what to do about it."
"Doesn't that mean no more electricity?" I asked.
"Yup," he answered, "and as far as I know they haven't addressed the issue. Las Vegas may be in for a sudden dearth of cheap electric. When Regan was President, he extended the three cents a kilowatt rate for 50 years, even though the issue at the time was market value. With fees, they probably pay six or seven cents a kilowatt now, while people on the East Coast are charged 22 cents."
"Interesting idea," I answered. "Imagine Vegas paying more for power!"

The bathtub ring shows up as a white
line high above Lake Mead.

We could see the bathtub ring from where water once reached in Lake Mead. Now the lake was far below maximum. "I read that it will never fill up again and never come near the spillway," said Andy. "It has to do with irrigation allocations when the dam was being built."

The new bridge, built between 2005 and 2010 for security,
spans the Black Canyon and the two states.

We walked all the way across and back. It was summer again here: baking sun, bright sky, tourists in shorts and tee-shirts. Only the mid-70 degree temperatures at noon hinted that fall had arrived.
Private tours gathered here and there with tour guides broadcasting information. We climbed the stairs back up to the car and drove to the new bridge parking lot.


From the O'Callaghan-Tillman
Bridge high above Hoover
Dam, the world seems small.

More stairs took us to the pedestrian plaza and walkway across the Mike O'Callaghan-Pat Tillman Memorial Bridge, constructed between 2005 and 2010. Named for the Nevada Congressman and Arizona football player, both of whom served in the Armed Forces, the final link of the bridge joined Nevada and Arizona in 2009. Poured in concrete sections ten feet high, the arch bridge is reinforced symmetrically with steel girders of 45 tons each that are 115 feet across. It forms a graceful white arch over Black Canyon.
On the way back to town, we stopped at the Tropicana to pick up show tickets for tonight.

We trade photo opportunities with a couple on the street.

Across the street construction workers cleared the area in front of New York, New York. "I wonder what they are building," mused Andy.
"Central Park," I suggested. "Actually they are cleaning up the area around the Statue of Liberty from Hurricane Sandy," I said.
"Really?" he asked.
"Duh!" I don't catch Andy very often!
We walked the Strip again, taking pictures and people watching. Some of the same beggars claimed some of the same spots. I wonder if begging is territorial.
Back at Casino Royale more foreigners played their luck at the promotional machines.
Between Harrah's and the Quad, about 15 Elvis impersonators gathered in the walkway for a pep talk or rally. Not one of them looked like Elvis, even with their black wings, tight white pants and sequined jackets. They gave a little "Yea" and headed en masse to the street. We had seen several of them earlier posing for pictures with tourists in the plaza. Nearby was another tourist teaser, a middle-aged man pretending to be Cupid. Dressed only in an adult diaper with heart-shaped pasties over his nipples, he pretended to shoot women with crooked arrows. "He certainly leaves something to be desired," said Andy. I went the other way.

Not for sale, Johnny Carson's
father's sedan attracts lots of interest.

The old Imperial Palace Auto Collection is now part of the Quad. We had free passes. In a 125,000-square foot showroom, more than 250 world-class automobiles are displayed, many available for sale."
"I'm surprised how many cost under $30,000," I told Andy.
"Well," he explained, "you need to consider that originally those sold for about $2,000 each; if they need work done, it costs a fortune because of the specialty parts; and you don't know the condition of the engine for drivability."
They were all collector cars, and the display is advertised as "the world's finest classic car showroom."  You can believe that or not. It's Las Vegas!
I took pictures of the old 1880's bar from Dodge City, Kansas. The sign said it was used until 1960 when the saloon was demolished.
Other photos included the following:
1. 1969 Ford Mustang 428 CJ Convertible, $95,000 asking price.
2. 1967 Rolls Royce Phantom V PV23, a black limousine owned by Red Skelton with only 47, 441 original miles, $400,0000 asking price.
3. 1957 Ford Thunderbird, built for and used by Burt Reynolds, $50,000 asking price.
4. 1966 Maserati 3500 GT Moretti Coupe, the 1966 Geneva Show Car, $650,000 asking price.
5.  1939 Chrysler Royale Sedan, owned by the father of Johnny Carson, King of Late Night. Carson learned to drive in this car and used it to take his girl to the Senior Prom. He sold it to the Auto Collection for $1.00. It is not for sale.

At the Mirage the volcano erupts every
hour on the hour after darkness sets in

We checked into Palace Station Hotel and Casino soon after 4 p.m. The "come-down" was literal and figurative. Rooms at the Rio quadrupled in cost on the weekend. We abdicated our palace on the 21st floor for servants' quarters behind the kitchen in a one-story motel wing of the Palace Station. The room was clean and faced the pool. It will do! And it gave us easier access to the Strip at night!
Our show, starring Gallagher, the fruit-smashing comedian, started at 7 p.m. at the Tropicana. Irreverent and fresh, he entertained an older audience. There was no fruit smashing (fruit smashing might have been fun), but he did admit to being 67 years old and having four heart attacks.

Within five minutes the show ends,
as the eruption ceases and lava cools.

Maybe that's why some bitterness penetrated his "Americans-can't-make-up-their-minds" jokes. "Americans aren't black or white. They are all grey and use spoon-forks," according to Gallagher.
After the Gallagher show, we headed to the Strip for the public mini-performances. The volcano at the Mirage erupted every hour on the hour. I tried to get pictures in the dark, but throngs of people crushed in from every direction.

Fire spreads as the pretend lava flows
down into the lake.

We stopped at McDonald's for burgers and then squirmed our way into the crowds at Treasure Island Casino to see the Sirens of TI at 10 p.m. The 20-minute performance included lots of suggestive dancing by the Sirens as they lured young pirates to their doom.

A cast of young performers wows
the crowd with twirls, swirls and dives.

Three pirates actually dove overboard into the water to the delight of hundreds crowding the walkways.

Las Vegas at night is as magical from high above,
as it is seductive and dangerous from below.

 By the time the Sirens disappeared and we walked back down the Strip, the volcano simmered again. We had front barrier standing room and enough light to set the camera for the explosions of fire and eruptions of light and smoke. In spite of the crowds, this time it was really fun!
Believe it or not!