A Journey Nears the End

This will likely be the final entry until the return to home base on Monday. A trip that began January 28th is coming to a close on the warm desert floor of Death Valley, Sunset Campground, $12.00 per night dry camping.

Death Valley is fabulous this time of year, and especially so this year due to a pretty good wildflower bloom, especially the Desert Golds. The best viewing areas are within a couple miles of camp along the main highway.

Temperatures are reaching about 75-80, which is providing a pretty good thawing from earlier days of Arizona chill. Great to just sit in the sun, read and gaze at the mountains and wildflowers. Another day in paradise.

As for reading , I am completing Pillars of the Earth (after Janice finished it). Janice is now reading Charlie Wilson’s War, after concluding A Thousand Splendid Suns and Until Proven Innocent.

Had an early 35th Anniversary dinner at the Furnace Creek Inn last evening, beginning with a glass of wine and a sunset on the veranda. Delicious food, starting with fried cactus (julienne strips) with three different salsas. Main courses included roast duck, halibut and crab cakes for the three of us. You really don’t expect to find such good food in a national park, but this was absolutely scrumptious, with super service. Water glasses always full, which is a challenge the way Janice and Julie soak up the H2O. Glug, glug.... Like camels getting ready for a long sahara caravan. For a couple of campers staying in a large parking lot (the campground), they clean up pretty good, too.

Our day today started just after sunrise. Julie hopped on her bike and rode 26 miles through the wildflowers. Janice and I took a drive through the desert gold bloom nearby, trying to get a good picture of Julie on her bike (didn’t). The rest of the day promises to be a lazy one, with a bit of sightseeing, a fabulous shrimp sauté ala Jeff, and of course some Scrabble ‘lessons’ for Janice and Julie. We’ll be leaving early tomorro--trying to beat the weekend travelers. Boo for daylight savings--lose an hour. Destination: Bakersfield, at least.

The Westward Trek

Following the Railroad Trail hike, I went to Hoover Dam for the grand tour, after Carly was refused admission at the parking garage. Thus, Carly and Janice were returned to camp whilst I soaked up the inside story on Hoover Dam. For those tempted to take this tour, or any other dam tour, be advised that if you’ve seen the inside of one dam, you’ve seen ‘em all. One of the most interesting facets of this tour was simply trying to figure out what the tour guide was saying. I suppose that Hoover Dam tour guides are the dumping ground for the rejects at the Las Vegas casinos. If you can’t deal blackjack or spin a roulette wheel and want to stay in the Las Vegas area (why?), you apply as a tour guide at the dam. Apparently you don’t have to speak clearly, that’s for sure. Ever heard of a ‘jennu-ritter’ ? That’s what makes the electricity inside the dam. How ‘bout a ‘tower-bin’? Also part of the dam apparatus. People in the tour group were rolling their eyes and looking at each other, as in, “Hey Mabel, didya get that one?” The fact is, many in the group were Nascar holdovers from the weekend races (why else would you wear a cap with nothing but a "7" or a "24", plus a Budweiser logo?) They were somewhat challenged to start with, so Hector the tour guide certainly wasn’t making things easy for them.

Of the one hour or so allotted for the tour, approximately 40 minutes was spent waiting for elevators down and up. A real thrill!

Next on the entertainment roster was a trip into the City of Sin. Originally we were scheduled to meet with a real estate agent regarding the potential sale of Casa Julie. The agent politely gave Janice a horse-laugh over the phone, because there no longer is a real estate market in Las Vegas. Kaput!

Finally, we attended a matinee show at the Luxor to see the ventriloquist Ronn Lucas, who we had attempted to see in December during our last swing through town. This is the gent we saw performing at the Calgary Stampede last summer. A good show.

We broke camp at Lake Mead and headed to Death Valley, with a gas and water stop in Pahrump, which appears to be a growing burg. We arrived in Death Valley, with Julie following a few minutes behind. We are in the ‘slab city’ Sunset campground for 3 more days of dry camping. Lotsa yellow wildflowers. Should get some pretty good pics here.

Lake Mead, NV

It was great to get out of Williams. 22 degrees and a 1/8 inch of ice on the inside of the front window! Hard to sleep well when the heater is cycling on/off. The alternative is a slow, chilling demise.

A stop in Kingman. The electronic sign posted $3.11/gallon when we pulled into the Flying J. By the time we got to the pump (delayed by a little old lady in a Ford Focus who left her car at the pump while she went to the rest-room), it had jumped to $3.15/gallon. I hope the LOL enjoyed her 'break'. It cost us about $2.00!

Lunch at the Hoover Dam overlook, where we again used our 'private' parking place---a slot apparently used by tour-buses at one time. We used it on our last trip through here. It's the only spot large enough for an RV. After lunch, we headed towards LV, facing droves of Nascar traffic (from the weekend event in LV) coming the other way which backed up traffic for miles. We were fortunate to be heading west. We took the Lake Mead turnoff, hoping to shave about 15 miles en route to Valley of Fire State Park, our intended destination. However, we saw a sign to the Boulder campground on the lakeshore and drove in to take a look. It’s dry camping, but we decided to stop anyway, since we have to be in LV on Wednesday. We’re only 25 miles away here, whereas the state park would have been about 50. We hadn’t planned on dry camping, so our on-board water was low. I didn’t feel like fighting the cold in Williams to fill it, assuming the spigot wasn’t frozen. So we are on water rationing until I get a fitting for the fill-up hose at the dump station.

Good hike this morning on the old railroad bed used to transport the turbines to Hoover Dam. Fairly flat and 5 tunnels en route. Good views of the lake. It is 70 degrees and the igloos in Williams are just a fading memory.

North Pole, Arizona

Before leaving Dead Horse Campground this morning, we checked with the internet weatherman. Foreboding. We were headed to the Grand Canyon (parking the RV at Williams en route) and a high of 37 degrees was predicted. That’s Fahrenheit, not Celsius! The folks in Arizona have been caterwauling about the last two winters: a good 10 degrees below normal. Al Gore is hiding like a groundhog until it hits 80---somewhere.

It was bitterly cold as we surveyed the ‘big chasm’ from the edge. A stiff 20 mph breeze was creating a bone-rattling wind-chill factor, made particularly worse since my long johns are tucked away in my dresser in Sacramento (where it is a balmy 67 degrees today!). Carly would have nothing to do with the sight-seeing, remaining toasty in the back of the Honda as we staggered along the various vista points, like members of the Donner party crossing the Sierras.

With all that complaining out of the way, the GC was a glorious sight, and the winds blew away the air-scuzz that marred our last visit here. Today was a clear air day, for sure.
After stopping at at least 5 souvenir/gift shops, Janice was unable to find the perfect Grand Canyon sweatshirt among the 100 or so choices offered. Next stop for such offerings will likely be Death Valley, where the sweatshirt selection is likely to be somewhat meager.
After leaving the park, we toured Williams, which can best be described by the word, “sorry” as in, “I’m sorry.” Besides housing and feeding tourists en route to the Grand Canyon, the main ‘industry’ of Williams is peddling Route 66 nostalgia. Half the stores on the main drag have “66” in their names to entice some oldster who once crossed the country on the old rugged road. Williams better come up with another gimmick, cause those geezers are going the way of the dinosaur.

An inadvertent cruise through one of the town’s neighborhoods would lead one to believe that you can’t be a Williamite unless you live in a single or doublewide, sans tires, or you might qualify in another dwelling if you have a pick-up truck (raised) parked on your front lawn with a couple of big-wheel kiddie toys lying on their side on the front porch. ‘Nuff said? We’re outta here as soon as the cock crows in the morning, if we survive the night.

At the Railside RV Park, the open expanse (maybe 6 out of 100 spaces occupied) of gravel and leafless trees is allowing a cold north wind to howl against us. The temperature is already 28 degrees, on its way to a predicted low of 20. It’s difficult to even contemplate an evening libation at the moment, although I think I can fight off such negativity.

Looking forward to at least 65 degrees tomorrow as we head to Nevada.
>>>>>>

For those interested in Carly, she has regained her hiking step, as long as the trail is relatively flat and not too long. Go Rimadyl! Still likes to walk between us, looking back and forth to make sure the old folks haven't stumbled by the wayside. She's still got that gleam in her eye that says, "I'm a Trail Dog."

In the Land of Red Rocks

It was time to ‘go to town’, in this case it meant a trip to Sedona.
As we neared the town, the beauty of the surrounding red-rocked mountains was spectacular. Acre for acre, this may be the most picturesque place in America. Every passing minute brings new suns angles on the rocks, casting shadows that change the picture continually.

The first stop was at Slide Rock State Park, some 8 miles north of Sedona. We donated $8.00 for 45 minutes use of their parking lot while we walked to the creek. This is an area that my sister and my 3 nephews used to frequent during their Arizona days, so I had to snap a few photos.

Heading into town, I could feel the Mastercard vibrating again. Lots of nice shops here as well as the customary T-Shirt stores (bought one!). Despite sales tax of approximately 10% (yeow!) we stocked up on Christmas gifts (if only we can remember where we stored them, come December). This is a place where ‘spending spree’ is the local motto. Next a lunch(anti-pasta salad) at the Hideaway Restaurant, with a creekside (or ‘wash-side’) table with a view of nearby mountains. Very nice.

With Carly reposing back at camp (with the thermostat set at 72) we headed back. Next time we are here, we’ll probably stay at the RV park in town, so we can take advantage of the hiking in the immediate area.

The evening meal featured BBQ prawns ala Puerto Penasco. While I was grating a lime for the marinade, Janice caught the aroma and had casita flashbacks. She strongly suggested that a prawn dinner demanded a pre-meal margarita. Using our authentic bought-in-Mexico margarita glasses, I very willingly complied with her request. Decided that prawns are better sautéed than BBQ’d. Margaritas are fine either way.

Political comment:

The ‘Support Hillary’ photo of a couple days ago should not be viewed as an endorsement. I have not gone ‘to the other side.’ Just an interesting pic, I thought.
Looks like she’s drooping a bit now. Politically, that is.