Road trip home

Sorry for the silence, dear readers! After visiting my parents in Southern California, Older Daughter and I had a rather intense three-day trip back, then Don and I took another day to return the rental car (an epic journey unto itself), then I immediately had to plunge into my work week.

So ... let's back up to last week and take you along with us on the road. Grab a cup of tea, since this is a long post.

First, let's go to the beach. Living in the Idaho panhandle, visits to the ocean are rare treats. Older Daughter and I made sure to walk the sands at least a couple of times. The closest beach access was at a nearby train station.

My grandfather worked on trains for many decades, so we have something of a generational fascination with these beauties.

The beach, as always, was cool and lovely.

Walking on the sand, we stepped over lots of these little fragile – almost transparent – carcasses.

At first I thought they might be the remains of sand crabs...

...but clearly sand crab shells are too tough and opaque, not the fragile paper-thin stuff we were walking on. The mystery was solved when we started noticing dozens of velella (also called "By-the-Wind Sailors") washed up on the beach.

These have a gelatinous "sail" on their bodies. Dried in the sun, the animal becomes the fragile paper-thin shells we crunched over.

We saw dozens of juvenile snowy plovers, darling little things.

Here's a large piece of dried kelp...

...covered with barnacles.

Eventually, sated with the sights, we said goodbye to the ocean.

The following morning, we said goodbye to my parents, a more difficult parting. Then we hit the road. Destination: Las Vegas. Why Vegas, especially since a nasty heat wave was predicted? Two reasons: One, neither of us had ever seen Sin City; and two (the primary reason), my literary agent lives in town and we had agreed to meet for tea.

So off we went, paralleling the coast for many miles. We passed several charming antique cars, evidently out for a Sunday drive (yes, it was Sunday).

We had a fleeting glimpse of this tiny island connected to shore by a pier. Looking at Google Earth, I think it's Rincon Island.

As we turned inland away from the coast, lots and lots of agriculture...

...including many commercial nurseries.

The temperature also started to climb. We were heading into one of the worst heat waves to hit the southwest in a long time. These die-hard bicyclists were peddling through mid-90s heat.

As we approached Santa Clarita, we were surprised to see roller coasters rising above the trees. An amusement park? Out here?

Yes. It turned out to be Six Flags.

At this point we were on Hwy. 15 heading east toward Nevada. The farther east we went, the more desert-y it became, and the hotter it got.

We started seeing Joshua trees ... a few at first, then lots and lots. I'd heard about, but had never seen, these desert marvels.

Possibly as a result of the desert environment, some enterprising entrepreneurs attempted to create some diversions once in a while.

Desert, desert, and more desert. Meanwhile the temperature was climbing steadily.

Road construction traffic jam. Whee!

Near Primm Pass, I documented the temperature: 120F.

A few miles later, it topped out at 122F.

Fortunately the temperature moderated to a balmy 118F as we descended toward Las Vegas. Phew. I was worried it might be, y'know, too hot.

More Joshua trees.

Dramatic landscapes.

Huge solar farm. HUGE.

This was, as far as we could tell, brightly painted boulders stacked up as a distraction for desperately bored drivers. Well, why not?

We finally approached the outskirts of Las Vegas.

Lots and lots of apartment blocks.

Before heading toward our hotel ("The Linq"), we wanted to make one detour toward Excalibur. Oddly enough, Don and I swung through Las Vegas on our honeymoon back in 1990 for the sole purpose of seeing this Medieval-themed hotel. When we learned it was still under construction and not yet open, we left town without seeing it. We were in town for less than 30 minutes (no exaggeration) and never went near it again, until this trip. So yes, I was curious to see Excalibur.

It certainly looked exuberant from the outside.

We parked in a (thankfully shaded) parking garage and walked into the lobby. It was something of a disappointment. While it had some basic trappings of an historical theme, it was hardly worth the effort. Basically it was just a casino. We spent less than ten minutes there and then left, satisfied that we didn't miss anything.

I was, however, pleased by this spontaneous photo I took of the hotel's towers reflected in the windows of another building. Very artsy, no?

Then we got back on the road, heading for Sin City's infamous Strip. Everything was oversized and gaudy, and we got stuck in construction traffic, and I was fretting because the tea date with my agent was ticking closer.

In the end, we finally found the entrance to The Linq hotel, and Older Daughter leaped from the vehicle with her suitcase, while I fled to get back on the highway to travel half an hour away to find the tea shop.

My agent and his wife met me there, and we had a fabulous visit. We talked nonstop for two hours. They were a delightful couple and I'm so pleased I had an opportunity to meet them in person.

But then I was tasked with finding my way back to The Linq, this time at dusk when the Strip comes alive with lights and sound. And oh my. It. Was. A. Nightmare.

Seriously, I was trying to figure out where to go amidst an ocean of over-stimulation and no map (nor GPS; remember, I don't have a smart phone, and Older Daughter wasn't with me). The panoply of flashing lights was insane, like Times Square on steroids. I was driving toward one building with a moving display four stories tall that was so bright I had to put down the car's sun visor so I could see the street. Traffic was thick, construction was everywhere, and I kept getting sucked into vortexes of parking garages (I quickly learned, never take an "exit only" lane because they invariably led to hotel parking garages).

In the midst of this madness, my cell phone rang. It was Don, wondering where I was and how I was doing (I hadn't yet called him that day). I sputtered, "Can't talk now. Call you later," and rudely hung up.

I knew vaguely where The Linq was, but couldn't seem to find it. One wrong turn (when I abruptly pulled a U-turn to avoid another parking garage) took me on a twenty minute detour through the very Strip itself until I was able to correct myself, and ... and ...

Well, you get the idea. This is what happens when you throw a Country Mouse into a place like Las Vegas. The visual and auditory overload was insane.

It was dark and I was exhausted by the time I found the parking garage for The Linq. Literally just as I navigated the rental car into a parking slot and turned the engine off, the phone rang again. This time it was Older Daughter, wondering where I was (she had checked into the hotel and done some sightseeing in my absence). We kept connected while I gathered my luggage and went into the hotel, and it's a good thing we had phones because the hotel was massive and I doubt I would have just randomly bumped into her.

Comically, she wanted to attend an avant garde art display in town which didn't close until midnight, but since it would require driving to get there, I put my foot down and said there was absolutely no way I was leaving that parking garage until morning.

Anyway, after I'd calmed down a bit and called Don to apologize for my previous rudeness and describe the harrowing experience of driving in Vegas, Older Daughter and I hit the Strip. I was armed (literally) with a police zapper in one hand, and my camera in the other. No purse, of course.

Considering it was still about 110F out and it was a Sunday night, the sidewalks and streets were absolutely packed with people. I was a little surprised that I felt reasonably safe. There were some skanky elements, of course – a few buff shirtless Chippendales men standing around with mostly naked women, posing for photos; some random guys handing out flyers for prostitutes – but for the most part, it was just people out having a good time.

The one thing that struck me, aside from the lights, was the noise. Between the traffic and music blaring everywhere, it was constantly noisy.

Older Daughter wanted to take me to a shopping complex in Caesar's Palace she had toured earlier.

It was late and the shops were closed by this point, but again the building was full of people doing just what we were doing – gawking – and enjoying some of the restaurants and bars that were still open. (Oh, and taking advantage of the indoor air conditioning.)

Everything was tastefully gaudy, if I could coin a term – ostentatious and over-the-top, but beautifully so. The ceiling, painted to look like the sky, was gorgeous.

We were heading for the "Fountain of the Gods," which turned out to be a huge pool of water filled with Roman sculptures. Honestly, it was pretty cool (in a gaudy sort of way).

After this, we made our way back to the street, heading for The Venetian hotel. Across from us was Harrah's Hotel featuring Donny Osmond (bad placement of the palm trees, sorry).

The Venetian had a moving sidewalk that took us over a faux Venetian bridge.

On the other side, we saw crowds of people lining up against a railing and wondered what they were looking at, since the body of water below was deserted. Turns out we had stumbled onto The Mirage's iconic volcano display.

Inside the Venetian, we saw a "tastefully gaudy" recreation of Venice.

The amount of work that went into the décor was impressive.

After this, we headed back to the hotel, sated with the sights. At one point we found ourselves walking behind two beautiful women dressed in ... well, not much. "I wonder if they're the advertisement or the product?" I wondered to Older Daughter. She later did a bit of online research and concluded they were the "product," but only as independent contractors to pose for photos (for money, of course) but nothing more. Apparently some of these women were able to earn $1,000 in a night of posing. (Image edited for viewer discretion.)

Here are a couple of feather-decked women chatting up an interested man.

The next morning, we made ready to leave Las Vegas. Here is the view from our hotel room window.

It was still a roasting 106F when we hit the road around 8 am, taking Hwy. 93 through the heart of Nevada. The peaceful emptiness of the desert was a welcome contrast to the showiness of Vegas.

Hour after hour after hour, we drove. The heat gradually lowered to the high 90s.

We stopped in Ely for gas and to swap drivers. I caught a fast glimpse of this Motel 6.

Why is this significant? Well, back in May of 1990 while coming back from our honeymoon touring the southwest, Don contracted food poisoning. We limped through the desert, stopping every few miles so he could empty his system, and finally found ourselves in this roadside shelter, where he spent the entire night violently sick. Ah, memories.

Back on the road, I caught a glimpse of these distant white tent-like structures. Anyone know what they are?

If you see some black dots in the distance, they're horses.

As we approached the northern Nevada border, we found ourselves skirting some rain showers.

We spent the night in Twin Falls, a surprisingly charming city. Tuesday morning we hit the road early and made our way through the Central Idaho mountains, an incredibly scenic area.

At long last, we made it home late on Tuesday. Wednesday was taken up driving the rental car back to the city and returning it, then Thursday I was immediately plunged into the start of my work week.

So that, dear readers, was our drive home. It was good to see baby turkeys, golden grasses, and Queen Anne's Lace lining the roadside.

Thanks for following us on our journey.