In Search of the Grand Canyon

Before we get started, I'd have all of you know that my counter tops are indeed finished, though it was a dramatic scramble in the 11th hour to find someone to do them. But all is well in the kitchen and I'm delighting in a brief respite from packing and loading everything while enjoying tomato soup, sourdough bread and some bloggery.


After my frantic blog entry last, I found myself in Vegas for a visit with Matt. In short, due to recent events, I was not in the mood to be in Vegas, so it took a day or two for me to mellow the hell out.

I boarded a flight at the crack of dawn. A packed flight. Packed with--and I'll just say what needs to be said here--loud, drinking, fat, elastic-wearing tourists. Ew. If I could describe my flight in one phrase it would be "yee-haw". And I mean that in both senses of the word.

Entering the airport from the jet way brought the typical din of a terminal, underscored by the gentle chimes of rolling slots punctuated by the fervent clacking of wager buttons. Again, more often than not, machines were manned by overweight jersey-clad tourists--but these souls bore a rugged determination bordering on insistence that the house--in this case McCarren airport--won't win.

I posit: do these individuals invest themselves equally in their paying jobs? Not likely.

Not having ever seen the Strip before, I found it to be awe-inspiring--though Times Square still beats it in the Shock and Awe department hands down. So much money concentrated in such a tiny space, and most of it, seemingly, belonging to one Steve Wynn. People say Vegas is "Disneyland for adults". Yeah, if in Disneyland one were to find the sidewalks littered with cards bearing the images of a topless and busty Minnie Mouse.

So we spent an evening on the Strip, saw the Cirque show "Love" based on the Beatles' music (fab!), and stayed at the Mirage.


The following day, we got a wild hair to find the Grand Canyon after nixing our idea to see Hoover Dam. Google Maps directed us on the "fastest route" to a viewpoint, and we were off. 90 minutes into the drive we made the turnoff to find ourselves on unmarked dirt roads for the next 25 miles, with no real landmarks except gypsum mines and tumbleweeds. The instructions went something like, "turn left in 0.35 miles. turn left in 0.77 miles. turn right in 8.54 miles..." you get the idea (Why did I leave the GPS in Shoreline?). Deciding that this route was a great way for us to end up dead in the desert, we opted for a real map and began our journey to the North Rim viewpoint. Several hours later, we came to the junction with the road that would take us to the viewpoint, only to see a sign saying, "Road closed for winter" (mind you, there was NO snow). With sunset approximately 2 hours away, we had one more shot to see the Grand Canyon if we continued to drive alllllllll the way around it to the South Rim view point. We got there at dusk. We ran to the fence, took some hazy pictures, and headed back for the car shivering. OK. Grand Canyon. Check.



Then we saw the iMax movie, "Grand Canyon." Not very good.

"You're gonna have to drive home. I forgot my regular glasses," Matt says to me. Problem is, I didn't have MY regular glasses on, either. So, we drove back to Vegas wearing our sunglasses. When we got to Hoover, there is a police checkpoint. Matt was smart enough to take his glasses off, but by that time I'd forgotten I was wearing mine. What'd the cop think? Who is that chick with the sunglasses on? Is she a celebrity? Yeah. A celebrity. Drivin' around in a Hundai Sonata at 1:00am in Boulder City.

The cliffs and rocks and soils in the area were breathtaking and fascinating. On more than one occasion we found ourselves open-mouthed in stunned silence on the drive as our forested road gave way to a massive valley, or we came upon huge boulders balanced precariously on tiny pods. Man, if only I knew someone who could explain all this geology to me...