Leaving Las Vegas
(a phone picture)
12:30 a.m. What the hell day is it? (11/19) Ah, Vegas . . . where folks escape into an alternate reality. I have succumbed.
I arose at 3:40 a.m. on Saturday (11/17). The sunrise drive to Sin City was gorgeous except for the thousands of “pee bottles” strewn along Highway 95 in Nevada. I kept trying to focus on the mountains and horizon, but actually began gagging at the proliferation of liquid offerings left by uncivilized truckers.
My arrival at the Excalibur parking lot at 10:05 a.m. was exactly five hours and ten minutes after leaving Mammoth. I hustled across the street to meet friends at ESPN Zone with no time to waste, as the Ohio State/Michigan game had just started. The purpose of this trip was to reunite with former Mammothites Jeff, Mark, Kirk and Doug (with a few extras) and enjoy some football. It was a fun beginning. I felt animated despite the lack of sleep and Michigan lost.
After the game, the boys wanted to gamble, so I left in search of Pineapple King in New York New York for a Philly Cheesesteak, but couldn’t locate it in the winding faux streets of lower Manhattan. I settled for fried clams from Fulton’s Fish Fry (a bit chewy, but satisfying). Then I crossed the street to check into a hip and stylish “Widescreen Room” at the Excalibur. Better than the photos, the newly refurbished floors have neat accommodations with flat screen TVs. Mine had an eye-catching view of Red Rock Canyon.
The boys and I met up later at Dick’s Last Resort. It’s not every evening that I dine with six men. The place was loud and crazy and the food just so-so, but I did get a $1.00 draft Pilsner Urquell with an Excalibur coupon. There was a burly beer-bellied guy (patron/employee?) who would shake his thong-clad hiney and yell “make some noise” whenever someone admitted it was their birthday. A giant paper hat was placed on my head which pronounced something along the lines of “I like to spread’em.” After a while, I handed the hat to Jeff who wore it for a time, commenting it wasn’t funny on a guy. Unless you’re a senator from Idaho, I quipped.
After the meal-o-tainment, four of us cabbed it over to Caesars. I had a ticket for Eddie Izzard at the Comedy Festival and the rest were hoping to grab a last minute seat. After some furtive negotiations with a scalper, the boys were in and we got in line early enough to nab a prime location for the show.
The performance was cathartic. It’s been years since I laughed that hard and that long. With Eddie, it’s all about the performance - which seemed spontaneous and random but which I’m sure was meticulously rehearsed. On the written page, I doubt his monologue would seem that funny, but once animated – watch out. The guy’s on fire.
We exited the crowded ballroom and went our separate ways as the guys wanted to play poker. My plan was to stroll back to the Excalibur (about a mile and a half?) with three
casino/free cocktail stops on the way. I planned to spend $5 at each casino – which allowed $4.00 in slots and a $1.00 drink tip. It worked at Caesar’s and I got a pretty strong bourbon & seven. Then I checked out the new Planet Hollywood, but was unable to find a cocktail waitress there. I got sidetracked in the 24-hour Walgreens and spent the last of my wad on cashews and M&Ms instead of a one-armed bandit. I got back to the widescreen at about 1:30 a.m. and watched a little telly while munching my treats.
I was up on Sunday by 9:00 and headed to Krispy Kreme for a guilty “big city” pleasure. While perusing the Sunday paper, I called Mark and found out that the Orange County contingent was downstairs in the Excalibur Sports Book. I connected with them, chatted a bit, and then the four of us decided to have lunch at the Monte Carlo Brew Pub.
.The “World’s Best Fried Chicken Salad” was not, but it was good and the tower of Widmer Hefeweisen provided entertainment. I dumped the whole SCT saga on them and their supportive response was appreciated.. Next up, Mark and I walked over to the Tropicana to view the “Bodies” Exhibit. It presented preserved cadavers in various stages of dissection to give the viewer an “up close and personal” understanding of our anatomy. It was utterly amazing and brought newfound respect for our complex internal systems. That can’t help but have a positive effect. (As I’m writing this, I’m thinking of all the muscles, tendons and stringy nerves that go into creating my specific penmanship.)
We came out and returned to the MGM Grand to discover that Doug and Bob indeed intended to leave early – so Mark and I ran over to the bar to have a final “heart to heart” before sharing our farewells. Jeff called to trumpet the news that he won the poker tournament he had entered at the Venetian. His group was headed over to N9NE for dinner, so I raced back to Excalibur to change and primp and jetted over to The Palms.
The dinner with Jeff, Kirk and April was divine. Although they promised to cook my ahi medium rare it was delivered seared and raw, per usual (but still delicious). Kirk and I chose an Eberle Syrah for the table that was truly enjoyable and we all shared the sides of jalapeno potatoes, white truffle gnocchi, lobster mashed potatoes and garlic green beans. It was a pricey meal and Jeff generously picked up the tab. The best part was the company. It was a sharp and witty group with a raucous sense of humor. The high spirits and good cheer were infectious. We split up after dinner and I did a few laps around the Palms to walk off the Prosecco and wine. Then back to the Excal for another fine nights sleep in the spectacular bed.
Monday was my first day solo, so I cleaned up, put on walking shoes and jumped in the car to cruise down Flamingo Rd. to Blueberry Hill, which I found right where I left it. I was surprised how crowded it was at 11:30 on a Monday – these folks are running a successful business. I had a fabulous breakfast of French toast (drowning in butter) scrambled eggs and bacon. I think it came to $8.00 with coffee. Take that, Waffle Lady!
From there, I followed my preplanned agenda and drove to the Springs Preserve just northwest of the Strip. A recent “Sunset” blurb showcased this modern natural history/eco museum set in the spot of Sin City’s origin. The historic (and now dried up) springs created the namesake meadows of Las Vegas. The site was stunning from an architectural and conceptual standpoint. It must have cost a gazillion dollars to construct the LEED certified buildings with cooling towers, packed earth walls, cisterns, and self-contained sewage facilities. The gardens were lovely and the reconstructed wetlands provided a haven for birds. I quickly toured the Origins building, but since the day was fine, I was anxious to get out on the trails and so spent a leisurely hour trekking the outback (along the 95 freeway!)
Then, it was over to the Desert Living Center which had some nifty construction ideas and more exhibits. As the light waned, I returned to Origins to spend a little more time learning about Paiutes, spring mounds and Hoover Dam. I got a call from Mom on my cellphone while in the Indian section and didn’t hesitate to take it, as I was the only person in this gigantic museum!
It was an amazing complex, although no doubt designed by a casino architect: planned to be disorienting so you’d get lost! Entrances and exits where obscured and I got completely confused trying to leave. Nevertheless I was engaged for five hours and pleased that such a sizeable investment was made to demonstrate the exciting possibility of sustainable living. Nowhere is this needed more than in Las Vegas.
After finally figuring my way out of The Springs Preserve, I was feeling peckish, and decided to check out the restaurant at Ellis Island Casino. The Trip Advisor contributors rated this as the best deal in town. Admittedly, the Amber Ale was quite tasty and a meal is often more delicious when you’re up $5.50 up on Video Poker. It’s hard to beat a massive plate containing half a roast chicken in teriyaki sauce, mashed potatoes and country gravy along with a mound of steaming corn preceded by a large iceberg/cherry tomato/crouton salad for $7.95 – including the brew! Did I mention I love Las Vegas?
Unfortunately, I paid for the over-indulgence with a stomach ache, so instead of heading to the movies, I waddled back to my room and watched Ellen DeGeneres’ Big Show on the Big Screen, (which had just been filmed in Vegas two nights before).
On Tuesday morning, I realized a fast food combo breakfast was cheaper than a latte at Starbucks, so I broke down and had a Sausage McMuffin on the Excalibur Mezzanine.
It was a beautiful morning, so some pool time was in order. I sunned, swam and luxuriated in the desert warmth. There were thoughts of lazing the day away poolside, but after an hour and a half I was ready to start moving again.
I jumped in the car and maneuvered the 215 to Charleston Blvd. and was surprised that it took less than a half hour to get to Red Rock Canyon. The Calico Hills turnout was humming with tourists, so I opted for the Keystone Thrust Trailhead instead. It was a bit of a silly path, well marked at the outset and climbing to a ridge with a beautiful vista, but then disappearing into a wide wash, never to be uncovered again. I had been forewarned by a pair of (cute) hikers that I bumped into who had lost the trail. None of us could determine what Keystone Thrust was – even though it’s supposedly the most significant geologic feature in Red Rock. I spent a solid stubborn hour trying to trace the route using binoculars, scrambling over boulders, trekking through desert scrub and hiking up the stream bed, to no avail. Defeated, I returned to the car and made the short hike down to White Rock Springs. These were quite unimpressive, so I decided to hunt for petroglyphs in the neighboring canyon.
As I was inspecting a large agave bowl (a huge mound built up over years by the ancient Indians as they roasted agave, swept aside the rocks and ashes and roasted some more) I spotted a fox out of the corner of my eye. As soon as he saw me he darted behind a rock and up into the brush. I moved over to the handprint pictographs on an adjacent sandstone crag and the fox reappeared. This time, he came out into the open, faced me head on and let out what sounded like a scream. He (she?) was too small to be threatening, but my hairs stood on end as this gorgeous little creature called me out, clearly asking me to leave. Of course I stayed. He left, only to come back in a minute, squealing even more ferociously. Was a native spirit upset by my presence? He disappeared for good as some British tourists arrived and I continued on to the petroglyphs up canyon. They were fine, but I was unsettled by a rustling in the brush. As I returned to the paved road I was greeted by a line of vacationers, cameras poised, eager to snap photos of the fox they had just seen near the rock art. This was about ½ mile from the roasting pit. Had he followed me? Of the many unusual encounters I’ve had with fauna on the trail, this November afternoon ranks at the top.
As the winter sun slunk low, I returned to the Strip and realized I hadn’t left enough time for dinner. So I did a quick change and jumped back into the car for the dash over to Green Valley Ranch. I was determined to see “Into the Wild” and made it with enough time to grab a cup of Dreyer’s ice cream pre-show. I really wanted popcorn, but couldn’t justify the $8.00 tab (although I don’t balk at an $8.00 Martini!)
The movie was great and I fell in love with Emile Hirsch. It’s been a while since I’ve seen such a likeable and well crafted performance. Then, back at the Excalibur I decided to sample the $5.00 New York Steak Dinner in the Sherwood Forest Café.. This was an incredible bargain – really quite tasty. I found it amusing that a steak, veggies and baked potato meal cost less than the glass of mediocre Merlot I ordered to accompany it!
Since this was now my last night in Sin City, I decided to meander over to Mandalay Bay in search of a party – dropping pennies and quarters in slot machines as I moseyed along.
I ended up at the Kit Kat Club or Pussycat Dollhouse or some such sexist entitled lounge where a live all-girl band was playing. They were actually decent. A White Russian cost $12.00 but there was no cover and the Hawaii/Boise St game was showing on the TV above the bar. It was briefly amusing to watch the “pick-up” to my right and the woman on my left flirting with the bartender. (“I find traveling alone so liberating,” said she.) Since I couldn’t afford another cocktail, I gathered up my spinstery old self and headed back for one more peek at the gorgeous view from my room at the castle.
It’s strange how I thought I might have a hard time filling four days in Vegas, but all too soon it was time to pack-up with a million things undone. I left around noon on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, enroute to L.A, with a lunch stop at the Mad Greek in Baker for a “to die for” gyro sandwich. The drive through the desert was uneventful. I abandoned the planned detour to Calico Ghost Town as the light was fading, and made it to the Valley safe and sound.
There were four days left of my holiday and they were filled with activities. I cooked the turkey dinner on Thursday, and on Friday ventured to Venice to snap photos of a duplex that was soon to be insured. Along the way I strolled the canals, ventured out on to the Santa Monica Pier and that evening saw a shocking and depressing (but good) play in NoHo.
Saturday was the perfect fall football afternoon at the Rose Bowl watching UCLA shut out the Ducks. On Sunday I hosted a brunch for some old time SoCal friends which featured mango/berry fruit skewers, broccoli, cheese and hash brown strata, mushroom ragout, spiral apple dumplings, turkey bacon, fresh rolls and champagne and coffee. It was a lovely sit down affair for nine and I was pleased with how smoothly it came off. How appropriate that my vacation started with seven friends from Mammoth and concluded by sharing the company of eight friends from the Valley. All too soon it was time to load up Virginella and hit the long road home. Kiss the warm sunshine goodbye: there’s a long winter ahead.
I arose at 3:40 a.m. on Saturday (11/17). The sunrise drive to Sin City was gorgeous except for the thousands of “pee bottles” strewn along Highway 95 in Nevada. I kept trying to focus on the mountains and horizon, but actually began gagging at the proliferation of liquid offerings left by uncivilized truckers.
My arrival at the Excalibur parking lot at 10:05 a.m. was exactly five hours and ten minutes after leaving Mammoth. I hustled across the street to meet friends at ESPN Zone with no time to waste, as the Ohio State/Michigan game had just started. The purpose of this trip was to reunite with former Mammothites Jeff, Mark, Kirk and Doug (with a few extras) and enjoy some football. It was a fun beginning. I felt animated despite the lack of sleep and Michigan lost.
After the game, the boys wanted to gamble, so I left in search of Pineapple King in New York New York for a Philly Cheesesteak, but couldn’t locate it in the winding faux streets of lower Manhattan. I settled for fried clams from Fulton’s Fish Fry (a bit chewy, but satisfying). Then I crossed the street to check into a hip and stylish “Widescreen Room” at the Excalibur. Better than the photos, the newly refurbished floors have neat accommodations with flat screen TVs. Mine had an eye-catching view of Red Rock Canyon.
The boys and I met up later at Dick’s Last Resort. It’s not every evening that I dine with six men. The place was loud and crazy and the food just so-so, but I did get a $1.00 draft Pilsner Urquell with an Excalibur coupon. There was a burly beer-bellied guy (patron/employee?) who would shake his thong-clad hiney and yell “make some noise” whenever someone admitted it was their birthday. A giant paper hat was placed on my head which pronounced something along the lines of “I like to spread’em.” After a while, I handed the hat to Jeff who wore it for a time, commenting it wasn’t funny on a guy. Unless you’re a senator from Idaho, I quipped.
After the meal-o-tainment, four of us cabbed it over to Caesars. I had a ticket for Eddie Izzard at the Comedy Festival and the rest were hoping to grab a last minute seat. After some furtive negotiations with a scalper, the boys were in and we got in line early enough to nab a prime location for the show.
The performance was cathartic. It’s been years since I laughed that hard and that long. With Eddie, it’s all about the performance - which seemed spontaneous and random but which I’m sure was meticulously rehearsed. On the written page, I doubt his monologue would seem that funny, but once animated – watch out. The guy’s on fire.
We exited the crowded ballroom and went our separate ways as the guys wanted to play poker. My plan was to stroll back to the Excalibur (about a mile and a half?) with three
casino/free cocktail stops on the way. I planned to spend $5 at each casino – which allowed $4.00 in slots and a $1.00 drink tip. It worked at Caesar’s and I got a pretty strong bourbon & seven. Then I checked out the new Planet Hollywood, but was unable to find a cocktail waitress there. I got sidetracked in the 24-hour Walgreens and spent the last of my wad on cashews and M&Ms instead of a one-armed bandit. I got back to the widescreen at about 1:30 a.m. and watched a little telly while munching my treats.
I was up on Sunday by 9:00 and headed to Krispy Kreme for a guilty “big city” pleasure. While perusing the Sunday paper, I called Mark and found out that the Orange County contingent was downstairs in the Excalibur Sports Book. I connected with them, chatted a bit, and then the four of us decided to have lunch at the Monte Carlo Brew Pub.
.The “World’s Best Fried Chicken Salad” was not, but it was good and the tower of Widmer Hefeweisen provided entertainment. I dumped the whole SCT saga on them and their supportive response was appreciated.. Next up, Mark and I walked over to the Tropicana to view the “Bodies” Exhibit. It presented preserved cadavers in various stages of dissection to give the viewer an “up close and personal” understanding of our anatomy. It was utterly amazing and brought newfound respect for our complex internal systems. That can’t help but have a positive effect. (As I’m writing this, I’m thinking of all the muscles, tendons and stringy nerves that go into creating my specific penmanship.)
We came out and returned to the MGM Grand to discover that Doug and Bob indeed intended to leave early – so Mark and I ran over to the bar to have a final “heart to heart” before sharing our farewells. Jeff called to trumpet the news that he won the poker tournament he had entered at the Venetian. His group was headed over to N9NE for dinner, so I raced back to Excalibur to change and primp and jetted over to The Palms.
The dinner with Jeff, Kirk and April was divine. Although they promised to cook my ahi medium rare it was delivered seared and raw, per usual (but still delicious). Kirk and I chose an Eberle Syrah for the table that was truly enjoyable and we all shared the sides of jalapeno potatoes, white truffle gnocchi, lobster mashed potatoes and garlic green beans. It was a pricey meal and Jeff generously picked up the tab. The best part was the company. It was a sharp and witty group with a raucous sense of humor. The high spirits and good cheer were infectious. We split up after dinner and I did a few laps around the Palms to walk off the Prosecco and wine. Then back to the Excal for another fine nights sleep in the spectacular bed.
Monday was my first day solo, so I cleaned up, put on walking shoes and jumped in the car to cruise down Flamingo Rd. to Blueberry Hill, which I found right where I left it. I was surprised how crowded it was at 11:30 on a Monday – these folks are running a successful business. I had a fabulous breakfast of French toast (drowning in butter) scrambled eggs and bacon. I think it came to $8.00 with coffee. Take that, Waffle Lady!
From there, I followed my preplanned agenda and drove to the Springs Preserve just northwest of the Strip. A recent “Sunset” blurb showcased this modern natural history/eco museum set in the spot of Sin City’s origin. The historic (and now dried up) springs created the namesake meadows of Las Vegas. The site was stunning from an architectural and conceptual standpoint. It must have cost a gazillion dollars to construct the LEED certified buildings with cooling towers, packed earth walls, cisterns, and self-contained sewage facilities. The gardens were lovely and the reconstructed wetlands provided a haven for birds. I quickly toured the Origins building, but since the day was fine, I was anxious to get out on the trails and so spent a leisurely hour trekking the outback (along the 95 freeway!)
Then, it was over to the Desert Living Center which had some nifty construction ideas and more exhibits. As the light waned, I returned to Origins to spend a little more time learning about Paiutes, spring mounds and Hoover Dam. I got a call from Mom on my cellphone while in the Indian section and didn’t hesitate to take it, as I was the only person in this gigantic museum!
It was an amazing complex, although no doubt designed by a casino architect: planned to be disorienting so you’d get lost! Entrances and exits where obscured and I got completely confused trying to leave. Nevertheless I was engaged for five hours and pleased that such a sizeable investment was made to demonstrate the exciting possibility of sustainable living. Nowhere is this needed more than in Las Vegas.
After finally figuring my way out of The Springs Preserve, I was feeling peckish, and decided to check out the restaurant at Ellis Island Casino. The Trip Advisor contributors rated this as the best deal in town. Admittedly, the Amber Ale was quite tasty and a meal is often more delicious when you’re up $5.50 up on Video Poker. It’s hard to beat a massive plate containing half a roast chicken in teriyaki sauce, mashed potatoes and country gravy along with a mound of steaming corn preceded by a large iceberg/cherry tomato/crouton salad for $7.95 – including the brew! Did I mention I love Las Vegas?
Unfortunately, I paid for the over-indulgence with a stomach ache, so instead of heading to the movies, I waddled back to my room and watched Ellen DeGeneres’ Big Show on the Big Screen, (which had just been filmed in Vegas two nights before).
On Tuesday morning, I realized a fast food combo breakfast was cheaper than a latte at Starbucks, so I broke down and had a Sausage McMuffin on the Excalibur Mezzanine.
It was a beautiful morning, so some pool time was in order. I sunned, swam and luxuriated in the desert warmth. There were thoughts of lazing the day away poolside, but after an hour and a half I was ready to start moving again.
I jumped in the car and maneuvered the 215 to Charleston Blvd. and was surprised that it took less than a half hour to get to Red Rock Canyon. The Calico Hills turnout was humming with tourists, so I opted for the Keystone Thrust Trailhead instead. It was a bit of a silly path, well marked at the outset and climbing to a ridge with a beautiful vista, but then disappearing into a wide wash, never to be uncovered again. I had been forewarned by a pair of (cute) hikers that I bumped into who had lost the trail. None of us could determine what Keystone Thrust was – even though it’s supposedly the most significant geologic feature in Red Rock. I spent a solid stubborn hour trying to trace the route using binoculars, scrambling over boulders, trekking through desert scrub and hiking up the stream bed, to no avail. Defeated, I returned to the car and made the short hike down to White Rock Springs. These were quite unimpressive, so I decided to hunt for petroglyphs in the neighboring canyon.
As I was inspecting a large agave bowl (a huge mound built up over years by the ancient Indians as they roasted agave, swept aside the rocks and ashes and roasted some more) I spotted a fox out of the corner of my eye. As soon as he saw me he darted behind a rock and up into the brush. I moved over to the handprint pictographs on an adjacent sandstone crag and the fox reappeared. This time, he came out into the open, faced me head on and let out what sounded like a scream. He (she?) was too small to be threatening, but my hairs stood on end as this gorgeous little creature called me out, clearly asking me to leave. Of course I stayed. He left, only to come back in a minute, squealing even more ferociously. Was a native spirit upset by my presence? He disappeared for good as some British tourists arrived and I continued on to the petroglyphs up canyon. They were fine, but I was unsettled by a rustling in the brush. As I returned to the paved road I was greeted by a line of vacationers, cameras poised, eager to snap photos of the fox they had just seen near the rock art. This was about ½ mile from the roasting pit. Had he followed me? Of the many unusual encounters I’ve had with fauna on the trail, this November afternoon ranks at the top.
As the winter sun slunk low, I returned to the Strip and realized I hadn’t left enough time for dinner. So I did a quick change and jumped back into the car for the dash over to Green Valley Ranch. I was determined to see “Into the Wild” and made it with enough time to grab a cup of Dreyer’s ice cream pre-show. I really wanted popcorn, but couldn’t justify the $8.00 tab (although I don’t balk at an $8.00 Martini!)
The movie was great and I fell in love with Emile Hirsch. It’s been a while since I’ve seen such a likeable and well crafted performance. Then, back at the Excalibur I decided to sample the $5.00 New York Steak Dinner in the Sherwood Forest Café.. This was an incredible bargain – really quite tasty. I found it amusing that a steak, veggies and baked potato meal cost less than the glass of mediocre Merlot I ordered to accompany it!
Since this was now my last night in Sin City, I decided to meander over to Mandalay Bay in search of a party – dropping pennies and quarters in slot machines as I moseyed along.
I ended up at the Kit Kat Club or Pussycat Dollhouse or some such sexist entitled lounge where a live all-girl band was playing. They were actually decent. A White Russian cost $12.00 but there was no cover and the Hawaii/Boise St game was showing on the TV above the bar. It was briefly amusing to watch the “pick-up” to my right and the woman on my left flirting with the bartender. (“I find traveling alone so liberating,” said she.) Since I couldn’t afford another cocktail, I gathered up my spinstery old self and headed back for one more peek at the gorgeous view from my room at the castle.
It’s strange how I thought I might have a hard time filling four days in Vegas, but all too soon it was time to pack-up with a million things undone. I left around noon on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, enroute to L.A, with a lunch stop at the Mad Greek in Baker for a “to die for” gyro sandwich. The drive through the desert was uneventful. I abandoned the planned detour to Calico Ghost Town as the light was fading, and made it to the Valley safe and sound.
There were four days left of my holiday and they were filled with activities. I cooked the turkey dinner on Thursday, and on Friday ventured to Venice to snap photos of a duplex that was soon to be insured. Along the way I strolled the canals, ventured out on to the Santa Monica Pier and that evening saw a shocking and depressing (but good) play in NoHo.
Saturday was the perfect fall football afternoon at the Rose Bowl watching UCLA shut out the Ducks. On Sunday I hosted a brunch for some old time SoCal friends which featured mango/berry fruit skewers, broccoli, cheese and hash brown strata, mushroom ragout, spiral apple dumplings, turkey bacon, fresh rolls and champagne and coffee. It was a lovely sit down affair for nine and I was pleased with how smoothly it came off. How appropriate that my vacation started with seven friends from Mammoth and concluded by sharing the company of eight friends from the Valley. All too soon it was time to load up Virginella and hit the long road home. Kiss the warm sunshine goodbye: there’s a long winter ahead.
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