Nebraska – Iowa – Missouri

Nebraska is oh so flat.

Nebraska: It's flat

In Nebraska, there are cornstalks, cornstalks, and more cornstalks set against the backdrop of bright blue sky. There are some possibly interesting things in Nebraska, like a few rock formations and Carhenge—a copy of Stonehenge built with 1950s and 60s cars. Unfortunately these wonders sat are hours away from the interstate and so we breezed on through.

The Hastings Museum, however, is one such oddity that didn’t lie too far off the beaten path of I-80. Located in Hastings, Nebraska, this Museum should be renamed the “Hastings Taxidermy / Geological / Antique cars / Kool-Aid Museum and Planetarium. There were thousands of stuffed animal specimens, ranging from an 8-foot polar bear to the famously-extinct passenger pigeon. Another part of the exhibit also showed how taxidermists create their productions (is taxidermy an art form?), including catalogs listing various animals’ eyes and tooth-filled jaws.

The evolution of the Kool Aid Pitcher Guy. Wow.

Unexpectedly, the Hastings Museum also houses an extensive on Kool-Aid, the powdery kids’ fruit-tasting drink that has stained kids’ teeth since the early part of the 20^th century. The exhibit includes the first design of the Kool-Aid packaging and countless ads throughout the decades, including commercials from the 1960s to the 1990s.

We drove through I-80 to I-29 into Iowa. We drove through Iowa for roughly 40 minutes so we didn’t see much. Once we entered Missouri, we then realized it was time for dinner. Just off the interstate lies the Black Iron Grill, a roadhouse-type bar and steakhouse where patrons can munch on peanuts and toss the shells on the floor. Its claim to regional fame is the 77 oz. Big Ass Steakhouse—if you finish one within an hour, this $110 meal is free. For a second I entertained the offer. For a second…

On to St. Louis to visit the Anheuser Busch plant and the Gateway Arch.

Wyoming: The Mysterious Jackalope Eluded Us

Much like Nevada, Wyoming has its long stretches of highways surrounded by endless plains extending to the horizon. But it also is home to what Wyoming(ans?) call the “Jackalope,” a jackrabbit with an antelope’s rack of antlers.  Apparently the Jackalope is shy, since it has yet to be photographed and the evidence of its existence is solely based on eyewitness accounts. So I guess our quest to discover the reclusive Jackalope was futile from the start. But what was symbolically illustrative was the unexpected dearth of Jackalope paraphernalia—statues, stuffed animals, that like. We didn’t see much of anything during our stops along Route 80. Perhaps we should have stopped in Douglas, where they have statues of the original “World’s Largest Jackalope” (8 ft. tall), “World’s Even Larger Jackalope,” and plans to build an 80-foot tall fiberglass Jackalope.

We did stop in the following towns: Rock Springs, Laramie, and Cheyenne, the state capitol. We hung our hats for the night in an Econolodge in Rock Springs and the following morning headed to Laramie to see the Geology Museum at the University of Wyoming. After driving for several hours on a mostly straight interstate where 1 of 2 lanes was closed off due to construction, we arrived at the university and ended up following arrows in the geology department’s vacant building. Upon arriving at the door we were dismayed to discover a sign on the museum’s door: “Geological Museum closed because of UW budget cuts.” Super.

Our little disaster, however, turned out to be a blessing in disguise because we made a spontaneous decision to see the Wyoming Territorial State Prison. Now in restoration and functioning as a museum, this 19^th century penitentiary surprisingly displayed elaborate and informative narratives about its former inmates. Photos of those incarcerated hung on the walls, some displayed mundane expressions while others looked downright psychotic. This territorial prison, one of several in the Wild West, also proudly boasts it once housed Butch Cassidy for 2 ½ years for the inglorious infraction of horse rustling.

Looking forward to visiting my aunt in Kentucky, we decided to get on with it and sped across the rest of the state (not much to see along I-80; as I said, all the fun stuff is up north). We stopped in Cheyenne to fill the tank and for some needed evening nourishment at a restaurant called Poor Richard’s. I ate the Chicken Dijon while Melissa ordered pasta, a food group she’s been craving lately.

As of this writing, we crossed the state line into Nebraska. For the first time, we struggled in finding lodging for the night. The Econolodge, Motel 6, and Days Inn were all booked. The nearest town in Nebraska was over 50 miles away and we considered to head 30 miles south into Colorado. But we found vacancy: the unoriginally-named “Generic Motel” offered a room at a dirt cheap price. All I can say is, sometimes you get what you pay for.  But hey, on a trip like this running into some dives is inescapable.

Mormons: Creepy or Just Very Happy?

While our route out west and up the Pacific Coast was chockfull of enticing attractions to enjoy, Brian and I have been struggling to find worthwhile stopping points on our way back east.  Since it really is time for us to be getting home, we’ve been sticking to good old I-80.  It’s an incredibly efficient highway but one which takes us through what is apparently the most boring parts of the country.  So we can’t be too choosy when it comes to sightseeing.  Hence Tuesday’s destination:  Salt Lake City, Utah.

Before reaching the city, we made a brief detour to see the Great Salt Lake itself.  While lovely to look at (blue water similar to that of Lake Tahoe), the lake was also very odiferous.  I realize that most lakes have something of a fishy smell (cause, you know, fish live there), but the Great Salt Lake was an extreme case.  It was easily three times as pungent as your average lake.  Brian ventured into the lake to dip his feet in, but I was too busy gagging to be so bold.

So now, on to Mormons.  Salt Lake City is, of course, the haven found by the Mormons after being chased out of several other states.  Led by their second prophet, Brigham Young, Mormon pioneers established Salt Lake City as their Zion, and as a result put a lot of effort in to making it worthy of admiration.  To this day, the city is spiffy, full of flowers, and organized around a ridiculously logical grid pattern.  During our several hours there, Brian and I viewed the Tabernacle (home of the Grammy award winning choir and a humongous organ), Assembly Hall, various religions monuments, and the official museum of Mormon church history.  The Mormon Temple itself was off limits to visitors, but we got to admire its gothic spires and golden angel statue from outside.

We exited Salt Lake City with mixed reactions about our Mormon guides.  Brian found their extreme friendliness and overt religious devotion to be creepy; I was slightly more forgiving.  While I don’t at all hold their views, I found that their dedication to their faith, as well as their focus on community and charity to be admirable.  Any group of people who are willing to trek out into the wilderness in order to follow their beliefs are formidable, to say the least.  In any case, seeing the Mormon capital was interesting from a historical and sociological perspective.  One of my favorite topics (both to learn about and to teach) is comparative religion, and Salt Lake City gave me some great insights into how Mormons think about themselves as well as their past.  The church history museum was interesting in the sense that Mormonism has a very distinct and a very American history—and one that is very well documented.  It must be fascinating for Mormons to come to Salt Lake City and be able to view Brigham Young’s personal possessions and Joseph Smith’s early writing.  I suspect it gives a sense of immediacy that only reinforces the bond that Mormons already have to their religion.

All in all, an informative day.

The Nevada Drive

As I’m writing this, Melissa and I are on our way to Salt Lake City. We’re driving (well, actually, Melissa is driving, because driving and blogging at the same time is not recommended for your health). Nevada is indeed barren—there isn’t anything here but pavement and a few cars in the foreground, brush in the mid-ground, and mountains in the background.

It’s interesting to see the contrasts of Route 80—the clogged arteries in the New York-New Jersey area that’s infested with commuting automobiles honking their way to work and back. Even in San Francisco the severity of traffic does not equal New York’s—true we did hit traffic, but we did move on. And here in Nevada—the only interstate in the state that does not cross Las Vegas, towns are fifty miles apart and have names like “Battle Mountain” (Castle Grayskull, anyone?) and “Winnemucca.”

And yet, there is a sense of tranquility that comes when surrounded by wide stretches of open land as far as the eye can see. So far, there are only two other stretches of road that equate with this level of lack of civilization—western Texas from San Antonio to El Paso along I-10 and Arizona and New Mexico’s US-180 as we headed to Flagstaff.

We plugged in our Garmin and the distance between Reno and Salt Lake City was 510 miles, a distance record. Looking at the states to come, I’m sure we’ll break that record soon enough.

Lake Tahoe: Our Last Stop in California

Originally, we planned a stop in Yosemite National Park. Although Yosemite is thought to be one of the grandest of the national parks, it was a bit of a detour, putting us back another day. Also, accommodations are relatively sparse and July is the high season so we were not guaranteed a night’s stay. So we looked at our map and plotted an alternative: Lake Tahoe.

We were glad we did. The lake that transcends the California-Nevada border is amazing, with incredible natural views. Lake Tahoe is known for world-class skiing and contains several ski resorts, but skiing is only a fraction of the activities here; there is NO low season in Lake Tahoe. If you want to gamble, jump the border into Nevada (you won’t notice—we didn’t) and double-down on 11s in Harrah’s Casino. But gamblers beware; you would be missing out on spectacular outdoor adventures. There’s hiking, horseback riding, whitewater rafting, biking, ATV-riding, sailing, kayaking, swimming, lying along the beach, parasailing. If your thrills involve the outdoors, chances are you’ll find it in Lake Tahoe. It seemed as though everyone was on their way to hike a trail or grab a kayak when we drove through.  If there was one stop I regret not staying an extra day or so, Lake Tahoe is that stop.

Highway 89 runs along the western part of the lake while US-50 hugs the east coast. Route 28 runs along the north. Driving along all three parts is known as “looping the lake” and can take up to four hours. We drove south along Rt. 89 into the South Shore region (Lake Tahoe is actually several towns divided along two regions—North Shore and South Shore), where South Lake Tahoe is located. South Lake Tahoe is where the majority of accommodations and attractions are located, but North Lake Tahoe—though pricier—is becoming more popular. We found a nice inn among many that run along Lake Tahoe Boulevard. Best Tahoe Western Inn ran on Pine Street right off the Boulevard and only cost us 50 bucks a night.

We spent the morning on a hike down to the shore to Vikingsholm, a Scandinavian-style house built right along the beach. After seeing the Biltmore, Hearst Castle, and even the Winchester Mystery House, Vikingsholm was unimpressive and we opted out of the $5 entry fee. Nonetheless, the hike down to the house revealed some incredible views of Lake Tahoe, and the crystal-clear Emerald Bay.

The water in Lake Tahoe is impressive and reminiscent of the Caribbean—translucent, bright-blue in the near distance, and darker as it later reaches the horizon. Kayaks were visible in Emerald Bay as they approached an island—the only island in Lake Tahoe– in the center. Apparently there was a tea house built on it and that seems to be a destination for many boaters.

We left Lake Tahoe wanting more and perhaps we’ll be back someday. As for now, we’re marching to Salt Lake City and driving through barren desert in Nevada, where they name towns like Battle Mountain and Elko. Good times!

The San Francisco Bay Area – Wharfs, Wine Vineyards, and Winchesters.

Lombard Street

When we arrived in San Francisco, we didn’t expect the scorching triple-digit heat we experienced in Las Vegas. But we also didn’t expect the heavy winds and the fifty-degree weather—in the last week of July! Nonetheless, Melissa and I had a great time in the “City by the Bay.”

Despite its fame, San Francisco is a big city in a relatively “small” package. Much of the city is walking-friendly; upon arrival our first trek was into Chinatown. Decorated with Chinese-style gates, the entrance on Bush Street welcomed us as we entered this famous Frisco district. Shops labeled “Canton Bazaar”, “China Bazaar”, and “Far East Bazaar” showcased both exotic trinkets (like Samurai swords and Asian waving cats) and more mundane products (luggage and postcards). Chinatown also hosts a number of affordable restaurants, including Chef Jia. I ate parne with peanut butter sauce, Melissa had some peanut butter chicken. Chef Jia’s cuisine was very yummy, very cheap (about $9 a meal) and highly recommended by both Let’s Go and Zagat’s.

Melissa and I traversed the city and visited all the touristy sites—Fisherman’s Wharf, the Presidio, walking along crooked Lombard Street, gazing at the Golden Gate Bridge and strolling through Golden Gate Park. Tours to Alcatraz, however, were sold out. The next set of tickets we could get a hold of would be a full week later. So, if you’re planning a trip to San Francisco be sure to buy your Alcatraz tickets well in advance.

Trolley cars run along to the Wharf and also to Union Square. Although we rode one of San Fran’s historic cable cars during our last full day, Melissa and I hiked the city during most of our stay. And I’m sure most of you are aware, San Fran is a hilly city—be prepared for an evening of sore calves after a full day of tromping up and down San Francisco’s mountainous streets. The worst are near Russian and Nob Hills, which will test your endurance. If you’re driving, be sure to cut the wheel toward the curb when you park the car on an incline. Some drivers actually park their cars at a 90-degree angle on steep streets.

So what do we recommend while in this Bay city? Fisherman’s Wharf is a must, even though it is touristy. There are plenty of shops and restaurants bayside. Sea lions also line along the pier and yelp; they are an attraction. The Presidio is a unique national monument/park where both locals live and visit. It’s hikeable but long, especially in windy weather. Biking throughout the city and over the Golden Gate Bridge is plentiful; there are many companies willing to rent you a bike for some cash. Due to the wind, Melissa and I vetoed this option but it looked fun in more outdoor-friendly weather.

Ghiradelli Square

Golden Gate Park is a nice treasure reminiscent of New York’s Central Park. The Palace of Fine Arts is a Greco-Roman dome structure at the park’s eastern edge. As one enters, the Japanese Tea Garden is a unique experience where visitors can see pagodas and exotic Japanese horticulture. I even witnessed Japanese Dogwood trees, which brought me back to my youth because my parents owned a couple in my childhood home’s backyard. There’s also an art museum, a science museum with a planetarium, a rose garden, a botanical garden, and in the western section a golf course and a horse stable.

We’ve been used to staying in budget motels, but in San Francisco our accommodations were among the best. We stayed in the Serrano Hotel, a four-star hotel but with two-star prices. It was the comfiest and even hosted daily complimentary wine hours! As a traveler used to eating peanut butter sandwiches for lunch, anything fee is anything good!

Muir Woods and Napa Valley are a few miles over the Golden Gate Bridge and both are must-sees. Enormous Cedar Redwoods blanket the sky in Muir Woods and are the tallest living things in the world. Their girth is only dwarfed by the Grand Sequoia, which are in other parts of Northern California. Napa Valley is host to hundreds of wineries, including the Robert Mondavi Winery, whose named after the man who invigorated Napa’s wine industry in the 1960s(?). We tasted some reds and whites in the Black Stallion Winery, a small and exclusive winery that only makes 3800 cases a year. Melissa actually liked all of them, which is remarkable considering the only alcohol she likes is bright-colored wine coolers. We were going to visit Robert Mondavi’s place afterwards, but they were closed for a private event. Boo.

Chinatown

Undeterred, we pressed onward to our next destination: San Jose. We stayed in the Santa Clara Inn along the San Jose/Santa Clara border. Let’s Go advertised it with free wi-fi. When we arrived, we discovered to our dismay that was not the truth. How can a Silicon Valley motel not offer Internet of any kind? Boo. In any case, the Mission Café coffee house across the street offered free wi-fi (and actually offered beer, too). Two pints later I had forgotten our motel’s lack of accommodations and was busy checking email and trying to keep up with things.

Our sole destination in San Jose was—the world-famous Winchester Mystery House! For those of you who haven’t seen History Channel ghost/weird documentaries, the Winchester Mansion was built by Mrs. Sarah Winchester, heir to the eponymous gun-making company. After her husband died, a “supernatural” medium told Mrs. Winchester spirits cursed her for the deaths Winchester guns caused. The only way to avoid the curse was to continually build a mansion (she was also told that people died because their souls rotted away in their homes). So, for over 30 years Mrs. Winchester continually built her sprawling, inefficient mansion with over 110 rooms currently available for public viewing. There are doors that open into a full-storey drop outside, closets with a ½-inch space, and skylights built on floors. There are narrow hallways that wind around and “goofy” staircases with little steps that wind up and down  for only a few feet of elevation. Oh, Mrs. Winchester liked spider webs and the number 13, so representations of those are everywhere, especially in glassworks.

For all of her paranoia, she only was witness to one spiritual “encounter.” While in the wine cellar, Mrs. Winchester witnessed a black imprint of a hand on the wall. She deduced that, since was the only person with a key to the cellar, the handprint had to be the work of ghosts. From that point on, she sealed up the wine cellar, along with 30 other rooms of the home, and forbade alcohol in the home. To this day, the wine cellar and the 30 rooms have yet to be found.

Ironically, the Winchester Mansion had dozens of guest rooms but never housed a single guest. Teddy Roosevelt was going to be one such guest because he was a fan of the Winchester rifle. When Mr. Roosevelt approached the front doors, a servant accosted him. Unaware of his stature, the servant rudely told the president “If you’re looking for work, you’re going to have to go through the servants’ quarters ever since.” TR was so insulted he never spoke to the Winchester widow again.

Personally, the San Francisco Bay Area is incredible. It offers a cosmopolitan way of life but is also close to many natural wonders the Pacific Northwest can offer. Wholly recommended!

Top Twelve Things Melissa is Looking Forward to Upon Returning to New Jersey

Note:  Hey, making top ten lists is fun!

12.  Shower heads that aren’t mounted at shoulder height.

11.  Not having to unwrap a small bar of soap when I want to wash my hands.

10.  Having ready access to a hairdryer.

9.  Knowing what the TV channels are.

8.  Vacuuming the graham cracker crumbs out of my car.

7.  Using towels that are not threadbare and/or scratchy.

6.  Bagels that are not simply thick bread.

5.  Not eating lunch in the car.

4.  Milk.

3.  Full service gas stations.

2.  Cooking my own food.

1.  Seeing my hamster, apartment, friends,  and family (duh)!

Melissa’s Top Ten California Attractions

Note:  Whenever my students are asked to summarize information they have researched, they always ask if they can simply draw up a bulleted list of the main points.  I always tell them no, explaining that it really is important to practice writing real paragraphs that add up to a real narrative structure.  With tonight’s blog post, I am blatantly breaking these writing standards.  Please forgive my hypocrisy.

10.  Redwoods! Brian and I spent a pleasant morning hiking the main trail at Muir Woods, home of the famous coastal redwoods.  Though not large enough to drive a car through (the giant sequoias are in another part of the state) these trees were nevertheless extremely tall, extremely majestic, and some were big enough to literally crawl inside.  On the whole, the woods were “lovely, dark, and deep”; a wonderful spot to get away from civilization for awhile.

9.  California wine country! Napa Valley is gorgeous, with rolling hills, open sky, and vineyards lining most of the major roads.  We visited one, Black Stallion Vineyards, for a $10 wine tasting, and enjoyed this classy, luxurious little treat.  Of course we stopped in for Brian’s benefit; as many of you know I tend to make tortured faces when given wine to try.  Much to my surprise though, the wines we sampled were quite tasty—I might have even considered drinking a full glass of one or two of them.  Alas, Black Stallion wine is not sold in stores; the vineyard only produces about 3,800 bottles a year.

8.  San Francisco’s Chinatown! This was a bargain shopper’s paradise, with fun imported trinkets and souvenirs galore.  We spent a bit of time each evening wandering the quarter’s lantern festooned streets, marveling at the displays of $1.88 t-shirts and quality antiques alike.  I became very keen on purchasing a Chinese “lucky cat” (the kind that wave at you) but never found one that suited.  Some things are not meant to be.  Anyway, a very interesting neighborhood for walking, shopping, and eating.

7.  Eccentric mansions! We saw two of these while in California:  Heart Castle in San Simeone and the Winchester Mystery House in San Jose.  Both were fascinating in completely different ways.  Built by publishing tycoon William Randolph Hearst, Hearst Castle is a model of refinement, a classically inspired mansion designed around its owner’s extensive collection of medieval and renaissance antiques.  On the other hand, the Winchester House is an architectural madhouse with stairs leading to nowhere, doors opening onto brick walls, and no discernible master plan.  The house is famous for its owner’s belief that she must continue building to appease the spirits cursing the Winchester family.

6.  Wildlife viewing! Driving along the Pacific Coast Highway (I’ll get to this in a moment) there were a number of points at which to stop and view wildlife in their natural habitat.  At one pier, we saw sea otters (floating placidly on their backs among the kelp) as well as pelicans (diving into the water after their prey).  A bit farther up, we saw a beach covered in barking, blubbery sea lions.  The pinnacle, however, was seeing a small herd of zebras (yes, zebras) grazing on the Hearst Castle property.  Apparently, Mr. Hearst had kept a rather impressive zoo on the premises, and some of the animals were left to their own devices after his death.  Interesting, huh?

5.  So Cal weather! After 117-degree Las Vegas, the sunny, yet temperate weather in southern California was a blessing.  No wonder Californians are so laid back—how can you get stressed with mild winters and bright summers.  And, while I know drought is typically a bad thing, the prospect of weeks on end without rain is rather appealing.  I think I know where I want to retire…

4.  San Diego Zoo! Three words:  pandas, pandas, pandas.  I think I have made my point.

3.  Exploring San Francisco! I had heard from a number of sources that San Francisco is a vibrant, must-visit city, so I was pretty confident I would enjoy it.  Because our hotel was well situated among the various tourist sites, we contentedly walked to most of the places we visited:  Chinatown, Union Square, Fisherman’s Wharf, Ghirardelli Square, the Presidio, Nob Hill, etc.  When the hills made our calf muscles ache, we hopped on a cable car (ding ding!) or took the bus.  As a result of the entire process, we got a great sense of the diverse neighborhoods of this fascinating city by the Bay.  My only regret is that we were not able to visit Alcatraz—how were we to know that tickets would be sold out a full week in advance?

2.  The Pacific Coast Highway! Otherwise known as Route One, the PCH hugs the coast of California for almost its entire length.  We hopped on just south of Los Angeles and rode this puppy for three full days before arriving in San Francisco.  Along the way, we stopped in at Santa Monica (beautiful pier and classic boardwalk entertainment), Hearst Castle, and Monterey (top-notch aquarium).  But really, the main attraction was the road itself, and all the scenery that unfolded along it.  Around nearly every corner there was something beautiful, whether it was a quaint beach town, a rocky mountaintop or, most frequently, the wild crashing coastline.  The stretch of PCH between San Simeone and Monterey was the most unique, as it wound up and around high ledges displaying great expansive views of the blue Pacific below.  Brian and I were taking pictures nearly nonstop—it was impossible not to, though we realized that our efforts could never really do the scenery full justice.

And finally, the #1 California attraction was…

John and Jim! My uncles utterly spoiled us during the weekend we visited them.  You have to realize that by this time Brian and I had grown accustomed to wearing wrinkly clothes and eating peanut butter sandwich lunches in our car.  Arriving at John and Jim’s tastefully decorated home outside of San Diego was like arriving at an oasis.  Just one example will suffice:  the guest room came complete with a small dish of Dove chocolates on the nightstand.  Though our gracious hosts made sure we saw the major sites of their city, a lot of our fun was had sitting with them out on their back patio (which has a killer view, by the way).  My uncles, being smart and thoughtful, are awesome conversationalists, and it was great to be able to kick back, shoot the breeze, and not worry about sightseeing for awhile.  Incidentally, Brian and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary that weekend, and we could not have spent it in better company.

All in all, California has definitely been our favorite state.  Only three things marred our visit:

1.  San Francisco’s weather sucked.  Fifty-degree, windy, cloudy weather is not vacation weather.  Everywhere on the streets, people were wearing ski hats and scarves.  We didn’t see the sun, or the entire Golden Gate Bridge, until we left the city.

2.  Dive motels! We picked two clunkers—one in Malibu and one in San Jose.  Both featured irritating noises, questionable bathrooms, and generally skeevy atmospheres.

3.  This one is the worst of all:  we lost our pillows! We think they were forgotten at the gross Malibu hotel (no way were we putting our faces on the pillows there) but we are not entirely sure.  Nevertheless, we mourn their loss.

Tomorrow, we leave California and begin to travel back east.  See you soon, New Jersey and Pennsylvania friends!

Las Vegas Is HOT!!!!

No, I’m not talking about the chicks, the shows, or the plethora of gambling casinos. I’m literally referring to the desert climate. The temperature sizzled at a scorching 117 degrees Fahrenheit as we entered the city limits and found our way on Las Vegas Boulevard, otherwise known as “the Strip.” On days like these it makes me consider whether air conditioning was the greatest invention of the 20^th century.

We entered Vegas without any accommodations but consulted our trusty guidebook, Let’s Go Roadtripping USA. This thick travel guide has never failed to steer us in the right direction and our stay in Vegas was no exception. Let’s Go recommended the Excalibur Hotel, one of the best-bargain mega-casino hotels on the Strip. We stayed there for $53 a night and it was easily our best room.

If you love to gamble, Vegas is your Mecca. But you probably knew that already. Vegas also has tons of shopping, dining, and of course is renowned for its shows. Las Vegas used to be known for the cheap buffet, but now world-class restaurants line the casino floor perimeters. World famous elite chefs own many restaurants in Vegas and it seemed like every hotel contained at least two eateries owned by Wolfgang Puck. Mario Batelli and a few others you might see on the Food Network also own restaurants in Vegas.

For our stay, we found this elegant Italian restaurant in the New York New York Casino. The food was yummy; Melissa claimed it was the best penne vodka she’s eaten. I had the cannelli con pollo (I think?) but it was a chicken dish with mushrooms and a creamy sauce. Yum. A bit pricey for our budget, but that’s Vegas. Pricing can vary: buffets cost between $20-30 per person and many restaurants price per entrée, but what’s slowly become common is one particular price point (say between $69 and $99, perhaps) for a three-course meal:  that will get you one appetizer, one entrée, and one desert per person. We didn’t go that route because, again, that’s a little beyond our budget.

But we were able to get a taste of casinos’ different themes. New York New York, Paris, Caesar’s Palace, and the Venetian are all obvious. Shaped like a black glass pyramid, Luxor showcased their Ancient Egyptian theme. Excalibur had a medieval/fantasy castle theme to it. The Bellagio displayed a bit more elegance, though Vegas as a whole seems to be moving away from the sleaze and more towards refinery and, dare I say it, taste.

Vegas was fun, but I’d have to say I had enough. It’s all too easy to see that spending too much time in Sin City can warp your thinking, and not in a good way.

The Grand Canyon—should be called “Crazy Big Canyon”

The Grand Canyon

In many ways, the word “grand” is overemphasized, especially in contemporary advertising. For instance, a Jeep Grand Cherokee doesn’t really convey sport utility vehicles on a “grand” scale. Nonetheless, the Grand Canyon is simply beyond “grand”—if a trendy advertising firm were to rename this gigantic hole in the ground to promote it for that ad-impressionable 18-34 age group, it would probably come up with something like “Crazy Big Ass Canyon.”

The Grand Canyon is impressive—indubitably the most awe-inspiring natural wonder I’ve seen on the face of the earth. There aren’t many geographical creations I can think of that may rival this 200+ mile canyon originally carved by the Colorado River. Perhaps the Great Barrier Reef off the coast of Australia? Or what about the Himalayas or the Northern Lights above Alaska and Canada? Maybe, but I have yet to visit and experience such natural phenomena.  I’ve been humbled by the myriad of peaks of the Rocky Mountains. Still, in terms of sheer massiveness and breathtaking-capability the Grand Canyon wins hands down. Don’t get me wrong, I am enamored with the mountain ruggedness, the isolation, and the jaw-dropping views atop Pike’s Peak or while driving along Independence Pass from Vail to Aspen. But while living on the edge of one of the highest mountains along one of the highest mountain ranges made me feel like I could touch the sky, the Grand Canyon almost had me believing I was on another planet.

Despite the previous description, Grand Canyon National Park is family-friendly. The Canyon is divided between the North and South Rims, the latter being more populated and accessible to more amenities. The North Rim is less populated, but also harder to reach: while the Canyon is roughly 10 miles wide as the crow flies, the trek to the North Rim would require another 500 miles just to get there. If we stayed a week then perhaps we would make the journey, but time is scarce so we’d thought we’d soak up as much as we could where we were. A simple shuttle system whisks patrons throughout the many points in the park. There’s a general store, a few gift shops (of course), lodging for those who are too accustomed to hotels, a few restaurants, and campgrounds for both tents and RVs. All of these accommodations are at or very close to the South Rim, the edge of the Canyon. We pitched our tent in the Mather Campground and roasted marshmallows over a fire while admiring the stars above the Arizona night sky. Don’t worry—Mather Campground is at least a mile away from the edge. We were in no danger of having our tent blow off the cliffs. However, someone did manage to drive their car into the Canyon the day before we arrived. I’ve witnessed the elderly drive cars into a bank and in a small conference hall, but I have no idea how someone managed that one. Melissa just told me it was suicide. Probably so.

The following day we sought the South Kaibab Trail, a steep trail that zigzags down the Canyon and reveals some mind-boggling views. We awoke at 5:30 in the morning to make the ranger-led hike by 7. As in Sedona, hiking in the middle of day is discouraged. The heat and lack of humidity make even the flattest, shortest hikes unbearable. The Rangers take great pains to make sure visitors heed this warning. In 2004 a 20-something Boston Marathoner hiked without adequate food and water and ended up dying of dehydration. Posters hung on doors and walls soberly conveyed the message that this wasn’t a ginger stroll through a Northeastern shady forest, so we heeded the warning and brought ample water and granola bars.

The three-mile hike was, while a walk-in-the-park in a shady flat forest, a bit more challenging when descending over 1000 feet. Ranger Will entertained our small group of some 20 hikers by stopping at various points and making volunteers wear geographically-related props. For example, one visitor wore a Hawaiian leu and read a faux-postcard from Oahu while Ranger Will described igneous rock formed by volcanic ash a few billion years ago. The wackiness almost made me forget that with a few short steps I could plunge thousands of feet down into the earth. Almost.

We reached our destination: Cedar Ridge. This shale-covered plateau brought us in the middle of the Canyon. Now we were surrounded by its depths. As we turned around and looked above, we could no longer see the trailhead from whence we started. In front of us were endless peaks and troughs as the canyon continued onward and disappeared in the horizon. It felt as if nature swallowed us and we were inescapably bound to its forces. I felt like Frodo in the middle of a tranquil Mordor and needed a ring to cast away. Melissa aptly said, “I feel like I am at the edge of the world.”

As we marched up the canyon and back to civilization, we felt why the Hopi called the Canyon Kaibab, which means “upside-down mountain.” The climb back to the South Rim was fairly rigorous and is not recommended for people who are not in decent health.  The National Park Service recommended at least 1-2 liters of water per person but I’m sure I drank more than that. In fact, as a general rule a hiker should encumber at least 1 liter per mile of hiking. We were in the desert, after all.

Arizona offered some remarkable treats. The night sky shone with stars that would not be visible in the Northeast, the Grand Canyon humbled us in saying that nature is still king of the earth, and one last treasure I will mention here. On our last day at 3:30pm, Melissa and I decided to listen to a ranger-led talk on the California condor. Only some 300 are left in the world and in 1996 about 70-75 were released in Grand Canyon National Park. These endangered birds of prey lay only one egg every other year, possess an average wingspan of 9 ½ feet, and sometimes can stand over 4 feet tall! In the middle of the talk, two condors were spotted flying along the edge of the rim. I was able to get a few close-up shots of these massive birds of prey.

Next we drive along I-40 to US-93 for a stay in Las Vegas, a completely different vacation experience.