A Weekend in Las Vegas

Business and pleasure.

I spent last weekend in Las Vegas. It was nice to get away.

I went for business. (Really!) The FAA was sponsoring an annual helicopter safety seminar at the Rivera hotel conference center. I signed up a few weeks ago. I figured that while I was up there I’d look into the employment situation. A friend of mine who works for the FAA had recommended that I apply for a tour pilot job with two Boulder City-based operators; I figured I’d stop in and drop off resumés.

Although I was hoping to fly up with some paying passengers, no one stepped forward to take advantage of the smoking deal I offered. That didn’t surprise me. And it turned out to be for the best — by driving up, I had my little Honda S2000 up there. It was sweet to cruise The Strip with the top down.

Here’s a quick rundown of my weekend, for those who wonder how someone who doesn’t gamble can stay busy in the casino capital of the world.

Friday: A Long Drive, Casual Job Hunt, and Visit with Friends

After dropping Penny off at boarding for the weekend, I made the drive up in late morning. I made excellent time, arriving in Boulder City in only 3-1/2 hours.

I stopped by each of the two operators wanted to visit. At the first, the person I needed to speak to was out to lunch. I left a resumé. At the second, I met up with the General Manager. We sat down and he interviewed me. We had a nice chat. I interview well; I have nothing to hide, am proud of my achievements, and have a lot of self-confidence. I also don’t need a job. The GM seemed to like me. At the end, however, he admitted that they weren’t hiring because they only had one helicopter in their fleet. He invited me to contact him in March when he planned to expand the business. Then he encouraged me to visit all of the area tour operators to get my name and resumé out.

I drove the rest of the way into Vegas. Along the way, I called my friend Jim. I had tentative plans to stay over at his new house on the west side of Las Vegas. It was early — only around 1 PM — and I needed to hook up with him. He was busy running errands. I told him I’d keep busy and call later.

I hit the McCarren-based tour operators and dropped off resumés. I got the same story from several of them: they weren’t hiring now; the busy season started in March or April. Since I already have a good gig for the summer, I probably won’t be flying in Las Vegas anytime soon. But that’s okay.

I hit the Fashion Show Mall next. I needed a new pair of flat black shoes — I’m not wearing Keds anymore — and figured I’d track them down in Dillards. It only took about 20 minutes to find and buy a pair. Then I wandered upstairs. I needed a suit jacket to wear with my skirt for my upcoming court date. A really helpful saleswoman worked with me to find the perfect jacket. A double success!

I also hit the Apple Store where I got a look at the iPad Mini and bought a new power adapter for my 13-inch MacBook Pro. Penny the Tiny Dog had chewed through the connector on my old one.

I called Jim again and got directions to his house. By 4 PM, I was ringing the doorbell on a huge one-story house in a gated community. Jim opened the door and invited me in. We went out to the backyard, where he showed off the bridge he’d just finished building over his Koi pond. His wife, Judith, joined us. We chatted for a while and then I got the tour of the house.

Jim and Judith lived in Wickenburg for quite some time. Like so many of my friends there, they got fed up with the town and decided to move. Although they stopped in a few places along the way, they wound up in Vegas, where they set up their business. With property values in Vegas so low, they were able to buy a great home and a 30,000 square foot industrial space for manufacturing Start Pacs.

Their new Las Vegas home is very nice. They did some work to close up extra doors, tear out walls to enlarge rooms, and finish everything with a fresh coat of paint. Then they hung their huge collection of Navajo rugs, arrowheads, and other items. The place is like a comfy museum, with plenty of art to admire.

They had a guest room for me, but when I realized that Judith was feeling under the weather, I decided that it might be best to stay in a hotel instead of imposing on her. So I booked a room at the Riviera and, after dinner, checked in.

I didn’t do much that night — I’m not a bar-hopper. But I did sleep extraordinarily well.

Saturday: 6 AM Coffee, a Hike, Safety Seminar, and Dinner with Friends

My Last Trip to Vegas
Throughout this trip, I kept thinking back to my last trip to Vegas, which had been with my ex-husband and his mother.

I’d flown the three of us up in the helicopter, following the Colorado River from Lake Havasu to Lake Mead — my favorite route. After landing at McCarran Airport, we’d checked in the Bellagio hotel, which is actually quite pleasant (sure beats the Riviera, anyway). Then the fun began. My husband had rented a motorized wheelchair-type device for his mom. I got to watch her run into several people in the Bellagio lobby before we ventured out. The highlight of the trip? Seeing her ram the chair into a glass showcase filled with glass trinkets in a shop. I think we were at the Venetian. Nothing broke, but I swear that the shopkeeper was ready to kill us.

Needless to say, despite the comedy, that trip wasn’t my idea of fun. So very glad I’ll never have to do that again.

I may have slept well, but I was still up at the crack of dawn. I consulted the Starbucks app on my phone and learned that there was a 24-hour Starbucks at Treasure Island, which was about a mile down the strip. I dressed, put on my hiking shoes, and hit the pavement.

I like walking in Las Vegas early in the morning before the traffic and tourists get thick on the streets and sidewalks. There’s something magical about this fantasy place, something that makes it special and just a little more real. Like a made-up whore before the johns arrive.

I walked briskly, passing other strollers and the occasional jogger running the opposite direction. The weather was great — nice and cool. At Starbucks, I got my first eggnog latte for the season and a danish. Then I wandered outside onto Treasure Island’s boardwalk to enjoy it.

My Safety Meeting wasn’t until 3 PM, followed by a social hour. That meant I had the entire morning to kill. When I got back to the hotel, I researched the hikes scheduled for the Around the Bend Friends hiking group. I decided I’d go for a hike with them.

But first, I needed a sweatshirt. You see, I’d brought along my old Robinson jacket in case the weather got chilly. The jacket had two problems: (1) It’s black. Black is not a good color to wear in the desert when the sun is out. (2) The jacket no longer fit me. I had lost so much weight that it was far too big on me. I hadn’t worn it in so long that I just didn’t know. So I hit Walgreens on the way back and paid $25 for a light pink (!) sweatshirt with the words “Las Vegas” stitched across the front in white. Not my first choice, but beggars can’t be choosers. I now own exactly one pink item of clothing.

I blogged extensively about my hike with the Around the Bend Friends here. Read it and check out the photos from the hike.

After the hike, I had some lunch in one of the Riviera’s restaurants. Not recommended. Then I showered and dressed for the afternoon event. My brother, who lives in New Jersey and had just gotten his power back after Hurricane Sandy, called and we spent almost an hour chatting. Then my friend Don called to invite me out to dinner; I obviously had to decline since I was 300 miles away.

The safety seminar was informative but relied to heavily on PowerPoint presentations. (Seriously: are people still using PowerPoint to communicate?) A pilot friend of mine, Amanda, was there and sat with me for the second half of the seminar. I chatted with two of the speakers after their presentations to share my feedback with them. I was pleasantly surprised when one of them told me that he regularly reads my blog. Later, at the “social hour,” two other pilots introduced themselves and told me they read my blog. How cool is that?

When the social hour was over, I joined Amanda and four other people for dinner at the Peppermill, which is right next door to the Riviera. It’s a funky place with a real, old-style Las Vegas decor. It specializes in offering breakfast, lunch, and dinner 24 hours a day. I had breakfast — an egg concoction that could have fed the entire table. We talked about helicopters and safety, especially in EMS operations, which one of us had studied extensively.

The subject of my divorce also came up and when I reported everything I’d been through — finding out about his lies and infidelity, being locked out of my home and hangar, having to fight him in court to live in my own home — they all agreed that my husband was an asshole and that I was so much better off without him. No argument from me. During this past summer, he turned into an angry and hateful old man — I guess it rubbed off on him from the woman he’s sleeping with these days — and I can’t bear to see him anymore. (I can’t help but wonder what other maladies he caught from her.) So sad when a good man turns bad.

I was back in my room and ready for bed by 11 PM. Like I said — I’m not much for bar-hopping.

Sunday: A Long Walk and a Surprise Visit from a Friend

I woke up relatively late on Sunday, but since we had to set the clocks back, it was still early. I got my coffee in the hotel and wrote up the blog post about the previous day’s hike. Then I showered, dressed, and got on with my day.

Along the way, I’d checked in on Facebook. My friend Janet, who lives in Colorado, was on her way to Death Valley. She’d planned to spend the night in Mesquite, NV, which was about an hour from Vegas. We chatted on the phone and I convinced her to come all the way to Vegas and share my room. I had two beds. We’d go out that night and do something interesting.

This is what convinced me to spend the extra day in Vegas. I’d originally planned to come home on Monday, but was thinking that I was pretty much done with Vegas and would prefer to be home with my dog. But with Janet coming to see me, it made sense to stick around. The extra night in the room was certainly no financial burden. And it wasn’t as if I had anything vital to do at home.

But I still had the whole day to kill. I figured I’d kill it by doing a casino walk.

I’m not a gambler, but I like Las Vegas. I like the craziness of the casinos. The decor, the themes. The shops, the restaurants. My ex-husband seemed to share this interest with me — we’d often spend hours just walking from casino to casino, checking things out. It had been a long time since I did a casino walk and there were new casinos on the strip to explore. So I hopped in the car, drove it down to Luxor where parking was easy, and began my walk.

If you’re a friend of mine on Facebook, you’ve probably seen the photos. I checked in at almost every hotel/casino I walked through and included a photo. I’ll share a few of them here.

Inside Luxor
Inside Luxor.

Led Zep shirt
This shirt was for sale at Urban Outfitters. The sad part: I saw Led Zep on this tour at Madison Square Garden.

Ahi Tacos
My lunch at Fleur: Ahi Tacos.

Excalibur
The absurdity of Excalibur is mind-boggling.

New York New YorkNew York New York is a caricature of New York City, with a roller coaster just for kicks.

At Monte Carlo
Monte Carlo, like some of the other nicer hotels, has reproductions of classic sculpture.

At Crystals
I loved the seasonal decor at the Crystals shopping center.

Sewing Machines
All exterior windows of this shop at the Cosmopolitan were lined with old sewing machines — hundreds of them!

Inside the Conservatory
Bellagio’s Conservatory is always decorated for the seasons.

At the Forum Shops
At the Forum Shops at Caesar’s Palace.

Dessert
Banana tiramisu and latte at Olives.

In Luxor, I walked around the atrium level. I remember when the hotel was brand new. They had an arcade and several virtual reality rides. All that is gone now. There’s a Titanic exhibit which I would have seen if it weren’t $35. There’s also a great model of the Titanic down on the main lobby level, across from Registration.

I headed out toward Mandalay Bay. Along the way, I sopped at Urban Outfitters and bought a pair of shoes, two t-shirts, and a leather jacket. I restaurant-shopped at Mandalay Bay and settled on Fleur, where I enjoyed Ahi Tacos and a flatbread.

I hopped on the tram to Excalibur. I walked in only to refresh my memory. The place is as dark and sleazy on the inside as I remember it. I didn’t stay long. I wished I’d brought along some hand sanitizer.

From there, it was a short walk to New York New York. I’m not very fond of this place, either, although it sure beats Excalibur. I walked through to the other side, taking a short side trip to a magic shop to see what kinds of tricks they had for sale.

Then across the street to MGM Grand. They were doing some construction in there, so I didn’t stick around.

I crossed back to the west side of the Strip and visited the Monte Carlo. I’d stayed there once long ago — I can’t remember if it was with or without my ex-husband. (Really memorable trip, huh?) It’s a nice place — a lot classier than the ones I’d visited so far (except maybe Mandalay Bay), but not nearly as classy as others still to come on my walking tour. As I exited to the north, I stopped in at a cupcake shop and bought two cupcakes for later when Janet arrived.

From there, I hopped on another tram and took it one stop to City Center, which didn’t exist the last time I was in Vegas. This is an extremely upscale indoor mall fully occupied by shops that didn’t have a single customer in them. The same was true for the Crystals mall across the street. That one, at least, had interesting seasonal decor and lots of overweight midwesterners gawking. There was also some kinetic art, including lucite columns filled with whirlpools. Fascinating to look at closely.

The next stop was the Cosmopolitan, which is also new to me. I was impressed. It was trendy, but not ostentatious. Lots of young people staying there. Restaurants and shops that look approachable. I think I might stay there on my next visit, in March.

Bellagio, which I was familiar with from previous visits, was next. I visited the conservatory, which is decorated with plants and other items for each season. We were still in the autumn season, so there was an animatronic tree — very popular with the tourists — and a building with a watermill. I like that room — so festive and bright! Afterwards, I began my search for desert. I was hoping for Italian pastries and came up just a little short at the pastry/gelato shop near the Conservatory. So I kept moving.

Sometime around then, Facebook told me that a friend of mine, Tom, was nearby. Tom’s a pilot who works near Lake Havasu doing EMS. I posted a message to Tom. For the next two hours, we’d play message tag as I tried to zero in on his location for a possible meetup.

Next stop, Caesar’s Palace. This is an old hotel that they’ve managed to keep up-to-date and classy. I’m pretty sure it was the first hotel to be positioned back from Las Vegas Boulevard — although additions throughout the years have brought certain elements (such as the Forum Shops and a restaurant) right up to the street. I wandered through with my sights set on the Ferrara’s pastry shop I remembered in the Forum Shops. That’s where I’d get dessert. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way. The pastry shop was gone and the pastries in the nearby coffee shop looked like they were from the previous day. Ick.

By that point, I’d come a full two miles from my starting point, most of it on foot. With the added wandering through casinos and shops, I figured I’d walked about three miles. I wasn’t the least bit tired and, because I’d worn my hiking shoes, my feet felt fine. Still, it was getting late and I figured it was time to walk back. And I still needed to find dessert.

I walked back from the Forum Shops along the street, trying to keep in the shade. It was very warm out. I’d stowed the short-sleeved shirt I wore over my tank top and was fine as long as I didn’t spend much time in the sun. I was sad to see that the Imperial Palace hotel/casino had shut down. It was one of the old timers. (Sahara has also shut down.)

When I got to the northeast entrance to Bellagio, I went right in. And that’s where I found desert: at Todd English’s Olives restaurant. I sat at the bar and enjoyed an excellent banana tiramisu with a latte.

Another message from Tom said he was having pizza at New York New York. I decided to try to catch him there. I took the tram from Bellagio to Monte Carlo, then walked to New York New York. But I was too late. I later found out that he had moved on to a sports bar to watch the game with his friends.

I walked the rest of the way back to my car at Luxor. My phone was nearly dead — I’d been checking in on Facebook all day long. But it wasn’t too dead to get a phone call from Janet. She was within sight of the city. There was a chance that she’d get to the Riviera before I did. Good thing I hadn’t found Tom.

I figure I walked 5 to 6 miles, most of which was at a good, brisk pace. I felt great — not tired at all.

I took back roads to the Riviera to avoid traffic on The Strip, but Janet still beat me there. It was great to see her. We went back to the room where we could chat and she could rest after her 8-hour drive. I filled her in on the bullshit going on at home. Like me, she still can’t believe how my ex-husband had changed over the summer. But she’d been with me when I arrived home in September to find the locks on the house and hangar changed. And she saw the damage to the boxes of my belongings that he’d carelessly stowed in the hangar before the floodwaters came. She knew the truth of the matter and, like me, couldn’t deny what he’d become.

Later on, we headed back out in my car. I’d tried my new leather jacket on again and decided I’d rather have one size larger. So we headed for Urban Outfitters at Mandalay Bay with the idea of Asian food at Rice at Luxor. (Remember, I’d scoped out all the restaurants.) The jacket wasn’t available in a larger size, so I just returned it. And then I suggested martinis at Red Square, a vodka bar in Mandalay Bay.

We wound up spending the entire evening there. They had a special that included 1/2 ounce of caviar with all the fixings if you bought two drinks with a certain Russian vodka. I love caviar and was willing to try the vodka. Both were excellent. We drank and ate and drank. Two rounds. And then topped it off with a round of Remy Martin VSOP.

Amazingly, I was sober enough to drive us back. Unfortunately, something I ate or drank — or perhaps it was the mix of vodka and Remy — made me sick. I lost all that nice vodka and caviar before going to bed.

Sunday: Recovery, Factory Tour, and a Long Drive Home

I wasn’t feeling much better when I woke up. I figured a hot shower would fix me right up, so I jumped in. Wrong. It made me feel worse. In fact, I puked up the water I’d had since waking.

Not good. I got back into bed, feeling like crap. Janet did her morning stuff, then went down in search of some chamomile tea and plain bread. By the time she returned, I was feeling well enough to sip tea and nibble a bagel. Janet got packed up to move on — she was spending that night with a friend camped out in town before heading to Death Valley. I got out of bed, dressed, and put on my makeup. By the time she was back from loading her van, I was almost ready to go.

We said our goodbyes and I finished packing. By 9:30 AM, I was back in my car, heading for Jim’s Start Pac factory near the airport. I got a warm welcome and a good tour of the place. It’s a great building in a nice industrial area — much nicer than his last place in Vegas. Lots of room to expand. He showed me his whole product line, including a self-propelled APU that he has a patent on. Jim’s a real inventor who follows through on his ideas. (Unlike another man who called himself an “inventor” when I first met him 29 years ago.) We chatted some more about the divorce — everyone wants the details — and I left with even more encouraging words.

I made two more stops on the way home: Another try with meeting up with a potential employer (unsuccessful) and Vons to buy some lunch. Realizing that the time change was working against me if I wanted to pick up Penny at boarding by 5:30, I hit the road. I ate a half sandwich and drank some water along the way. I still felt a bit weak from my stomach problem, but at least I was keeping food down.

I made good time on the way back and arrived in Wickenburg just before 4 PM local time. Penny was thrilled to see me. Both of us were glad to be home.

One final note…although I ate very heartily while I was away and was convinced that I gained several pounds over the weekend, I was thrilled to see the scale registering exactly what it had before I left. (I don’t think it had anything to do with my stomach problem on Sunday night/Monday morning; I didn’t really puke up that much food.) I’m starting to think that my metabolism has actually changed — possibly because of the higher level of activity I have now that I’m single and have a real social life. Yet another way divorce has been good to me.

An Overnight Hiking Escape, Part II: Flagstaff

The second day of my overnight getaway.

As I blogged earlier in the week, on Sunday I went hiking with a Meetup group in Sedona, AZ. But rather than go home afterward, I decided to spend the night in Flagstaff and do some more hiking among the aspens the next day.

You see, one of my Facebook friends, who is also an aerial photography client, Rebecca Wilks of Skyline Images, posted an update about the fall colors in the Flagstaff area. For those of you unfamiliar with Flagstaff, it sits at about 7,000 feet elevation and has many groves of aspen trees. In September and October, the leaves turn yellow. The result is beauty.

I read her update and was bummed out. This would likely be my last autumn in Arizona and I’d miss the aspens changing. I might never get another opportunity to see them.

But then I thought about it and realized there was no reason to miss them. After all, it isn’t as if I’m working. I’m just hanging out at home, packing at my own pace, waiting for divorce stuff to happen around me. I’d just tack on a day in Flagstaff after my day in Sedona.

Plan made, I called around and found a hotel that accepts pets, the Drury Inn. Not my first choice, but no real complaints. I booked a room and, on Sunday afternoon, I began the short drive up Oak Creek Canyon from Sedona to Flagstaff.

Although it was early enough to do a short hike when I arrived in Flag, I was exhausted, sticky, and stinky from my hot hike in Sedona with the group. I elected to take a nice hot shower, try some of the “happy hour” food they offered at the hotel, and just take it easy. Penny the Tiny Dog didn’t seem to mind. I’d brought along her bed and since she was just as tired as I was, we both relaxed. I had two bloody marys in the lobby and nibbled on some soup and some macaroni and cheese for dinner. By nine, I was asleep.

We got an early start in the morning. The plan was to visit two locations: Lockett Meadow and the Inner Basin Trail on the east side of the San Francisco Peaks and the Kachina Trail near the Snowbowl. After a quick free breakfast of oatmeal and coffee, Penny and I were packed and ready to go by 7 AM.

Lockett Meadow

Locket Meadow MapThe road to Lockett Meadow is not paved. I was driving my Honda S2000, which probably has about 6 inches of clearance on the bottom. (At least it seems that way.) I was a little concerned when I saw the sign that said “Road Not Maintained for Passenger Vehicles,” but when you consider that the road to my house is not maintained at all and is currently in deplorable condition and I drive it every day with the Honda, I was willing to give it a try.

It turned out to be in excellent condition. It climbed up the side of a mountain with no guardrails to stop a skidding car from plunging over the cliff — typical Arizona back road. In the distance I could see Sunset Crater and the Painted Desert beyond it. I kept climbing, reaching an elevation (eventually) of over 8,000 feet.

My HondaLockett Meadow Campground was at the end of the road. So were the aspen groves. I stopped and snapped a few photos, including this shot of my car parked alongside the road.

I drove through the campground. It was about half occupied. I thought about what a great place it would be to stay for a week or two in the mobile mansion. And then I thought about how unlikely that was to happen.

Inner Basin TrailheadIn the back of the campground was the trailhead for the Inner Basin trail. I parked the car among the SUVs in the small lot and got out with Penny to take a look. The trail looked dark and wound into the forest. It didn’t look very inviting. Although Penny was ready to go, it didn’t look like the kind of hike I wanted to take early in the morning. I was more interested in photographing the aspens; there were plenty of subjects back out in the meadow.

But there was one thing at the trailhead I want to share, especially since the first line was so appropriate to my situation. It’s a passage from the Navajo Blessingway:

Today I will walk out; useless burden will leave me.

I will be as I was before; a cool breeze will wash me.
I will have a light body; I will be happy.
Nothing will hinder me.

I walk with beauty before me. I walk with beauty behind me.
I walk with beauty below me. I walk with beauty above me.
I walk with beauty around me.

After thinking about that for a moment, we returned to the car and drove back out to the meadow. I took a few shots and was generally happy with what I got. But as I was driving away from the place, I caught sight of a small pond with a perfectly smooth surface. My brain shouted: reflections!

Aspen ReflectionsI love including reflections in my photographs. This location did not disappoint me. I was able to make a number of photographs that really showed off the view with perfect reflections.

More Aspen ReflectionsI got back into the car again, now ready to leave. But again, as I was driving off, I caught sight of another place where still water was surrounded by trees. Leaving Penny in the car, I went to investigate and made a few more reflection photos. It was really much more than I had hoped for.

We retraced our route back down the mountain. It dumped us onto Shultz Pass Road. I checked my map. The road, which was unpaved, would take us along the base of the mountain back toward Flagstaff. In my typical explorer fashion, I decided to give it a try.

I didn’t get very far. At the first place where water had crossed the road, large rocks lay in the roadway. I thought I had enough clearance to get over them, but I soon heard (and felt) rocks under the floorboard. Not good. I stopped to take a peek underneath. Sure enough, there were a bunch of rocks beneath the car that I simply would not clear. Recalling how my soon-to-be ex-husband had punctured the oilcan on his Honda years ago, I decided to clear the rocks out from under the car, back up, turn around, and go back the way I’d come.

Fortunately, all this happened about 50 yards from a forest service guy who was parked with his truck in a clearing. When it became clear that I would not be able to reach the rocks without lying in the dirt, he offered me a shovel. I used the handle to pull the rocks out. Then I got in, backed up carefully, and returned the shovel. He probably thought I was nuts for trying the road in the first place. And he was probably right.

Return to Flagstaff

I drove back to Flagstaff on Route 89, which turns into Route 66, and took the turn for Route 180. I was less than 10 miles from the Snowbowl.

Unfortunately, along the way I had begun thinking of a friend of mine — or someone I thought was a friend of mine — who worked in Flagstaff. My last contact with her had been an email message telling her about my marital woes and warning her that the same thing could happen to her. I never got a response. I wondered what she thought of me and wanted very badly to see her and explain.

That was gnawing at me as I drove through Flag. I didn’t know where she worked or even if she was working that day. But I could find out. I could try to see her. I could try to explain.

But I kept driving.

I was about 3 miles short of the Snowbowl turn when my phone rang. It was my friend, Rod. I pulled into a trailhead parking lot and stopped in the shade to talk. And that’s when I fell apart.

You see, I was still hurting badly about my divorce and the way it all went down. My husband’s betrayal was like an open wound. Thinking about this friend in Flagstaff, who is married to my husband’s old roommate, had only made matters worse. When Rod called to check in with me, I broke down crying.

We had a long talk. I cried a lot. He gave me a good pep talk. He told me what everyone else had been telling me for months: that my husband was an idiot and a bum (and other things) and I was so much better off without him. I wasn’t convinced. Not yet. That would come later in the week.

But Rod did convince me that my Flagstaff friend wasn’t a real friend at all. If she was, he argued, she would have called me. No friend would simply ignore me when I was in such obvious emotional distress.

Rod is definitely a real friend.

While I talked, I let Penny out of the car. She wandered off into the woods. I kept an eye on her. There was something on the ground that she found very interesting. I walked over to check it out. It was a skunk skeleton. Skunk skeletons smell just like skunks. So did Penny.

The Kachina Trail

Kachina TrailWhen Rod and I finished talking, I felt better. Penny and I got back into the car and continued to the Snowbowl. We followed the winding road all the way up to the entrance to the ski area. Just to the right was the parking area for the trailhead.

The Kachina Trail is part of the Arizona Trail, a trail system that stretches north/south through Arizona. This was news to me. The only part of the Arizona Trail I’d ever hiked was at the Grand Canyon.

I chatted with some Canadians in the parking lot while I prepped for the hike. Like me, they were here to see the fall colors. Penny and I left them putting on their hiking shoes and hit the trail.

Kachina Trail TrailheadLike the other trail, the Kachina trail led into the woods. But whether it was the time of day — after 10 AM — or just the kind of trail, it seemed a lot brighter and more inviting. But what really surprised me was the elevation — the GPS in my phone reported nearly 9,300 feet. Whoa.

The trail wound into the woods, paralleling the road I’d driven up, which was just out of sight beyond the trees. I could hear vehicles driving up and down, including trucks and loud motorcycles. Not the kind of experience I wanted. But then the trail curved away from the road and it got quiet, with just the sound of the wind in the trees and the birds. The leaves on scattered aspen trees fluttered with a sound like falling water.

On the Kachina TrailThe trail was relatively narrow and wound up and down through the forest, between trees and around large rocks. Penny, on her leash, led the way, stopping occasionally to sniff at something. We met a young family with children walking the other way. I kept up a good pace without getting winded, despite the elevation, and was glad again for the health benefits of my recent weight loss.

I didn’t take many photos. Truth is, I was disappointed. The aspens weren’t anywhere near peak along the trail — perhaps because it wound along the south-facing side of the mountain. Although the trail was pleasant enough, it didn’t offer what I was there for. So after hiking about a mile (per my GPS), I decided to turn back.

I met the Canadians on my way back. I told them that the trail was nice, but I was there mostly for photography and wanted more aspens. We chatted briefly again, then went our separate ways.

Aspen Corner

At Aspen CornerOn the way up to the Kachina Trail, I’d passed a place called Aspen Corner. There was a parking area there with paths through an aspen grove. Those trees were at near peak color. I decided to wander around there for a while.

This is what I was here for. Bright yellow leaves against a deep blue sky. (Yes, clouds would have made the photos more interesting, but this is Arizona.) The cool darkness of the forest offered a magnificent contrast to the sun-splashed leaves and white bark.

Self-Portrait in AspensPenny and I wandered around for a while. I asked another photographer to take a photo of usy, but the exposure was so bad you can barely see us. I also tried a self-portrait using the camera’s timer and did a little better — although I’m squinting into the sun so badly that I don’t really look very appealing. Oh, and do you know how difficult it is to prop up a DSLR vertically on a log?

We wandered around for a while and I took a bunch of photos. By then, it was after noon. I was expecting a phone call at 1 PM and needed to be somewhere with a good cell signal. I also wanted to wash the Lockett Meadow dust off my car before I drove home. So we headed back to the car and started the drive back to Flagstaff.

Heading Home

A while later, with gas tank filled, car washed, and a fresh bottle of water for sipping, Penny and I headed back to Wickenburg. I took my phone call along the way, at an exit off I-40 between Flag and Williams. The drive back was nearly 3 hours long on what I consider the fastest route: I-40 to 89 to Iron Springs Road through Skull Valley, Kirkland Junction, and Yarnell.

It was an emotional drive for me. Along the way, I did a lot of thinking…and crying. I just have to work all my woes out of my system. It’s part of the healing process and I know it will take a long time.

The first thing I did when I got home was to give Penny the Skunky Dog a bath.

A Trip around the Peninsula, Day 1: Wenatchee to Port Angeles

We take a road trip around the Olympic Peninsula in Washington state.

After three months contractually bound to the Quincy and Wenatchee areas of Washington, I was finally off contract at the end of August. Mike flew out to Washington and we went on a road trip to the Olympic Peninsula. This series of blog posts is a summary of that trip, with photos.

The start of our five-day vacation.

After fueling our diesel pickup — the only vehicle available to us here — we headed out of Wenatchee on Route 2 toward Stevens Pass. We made a number of stops along the way.

First, Anjou Bakery in Monitor, which makes an outrageously good pear danish. It’s in a funky old building with indoor and outdoor seating. They make coffee drinks, too, but I’ve decided to avoid that on my next trip. Their coffee isn’t very good — at least in my opinion — and it takes far too long for them to prepare it.

Next, Leavenworth. If you’ve ever been to Leavenworth, you’ll know that it’s a manufactured tourist town. They redid the entire town with a Bavarian theme, making it feel almost as if you’re in a Black Forest village somewhere in Germany. (I’ve actually been to Germany’s Black Forest, so I can attest to this.)

For the record, I don’t like Leavenworth. It’s a fake place that exists primarily for tourism. The parking and traffic situation is horrendous. Its multiple shops and restaurants are designed to suck tourists in and relieve them of their money. Little of what they offer is any better than you’d find at any other similarly themed tourist shop or town. I know that all tourist towns are like this and I don’t like any of them. Frankly, I don’t know why so many people go there.

But Leavenworth does have two shops that I love:

  • The Cheesemonger is possibly the best cheese shop I’ve ever been to. Not only do they have an amazing selection of cheeses from around the world, but they are well-staffed with knowledgable and helpful counter people. Cheese tasting is not only allowed but encouraged. This shop is my primary reason for subjecting myself to a trip to Leavenworth.
  • Cured is a smoked meat shop where you can get excellent bacon, sausage, wursts, jerkies, and more. Their buckboard bacon is to die for. If I make a cheese run, I also stop here for meats. Bonus: there’s motorcycle parking right across the street.

On this visit, we also stopped at the Bavarian Bakery on the right as you come into town from Wenatchee. It was recommended by the folks at Cured for bread; they hadn’t received their delivery yet and I like their rolls with the cheese. My grandfather was German and owned a bakery in Cresskill, NJ when I was a kid. For a while, my family lived in an apartment upstairs. So visiting a real German bakery was a treat for me. We bought some plum cake (which my Grandfather also made), pretzels, a coffee cake, and the rolls. I wasn’t terribly impressed with any of it, but it wasn’t bad. I’m just picky.

We loaded up the cooler that we’d brought along and headed out of town on Chumstick Road. That would take us winding through the mountains, though the tiny town of Plain before reaching Lake Wenatchee. At Route 207, we headed northwest, following 207, then Little Wenatchee Road, then National Forest Development Road 65. I’d ridden this route on my motorcycle the week before but had turned back after 10 miles or so because I wasn’t sure whether it was paved the entire distance.

We took a side trip, following a sign that promised a View Point 4 miles up an unpaved road. The road wound up and around through dense forest, finally depositing us at the promised viewpoint. We could see Lake Wenatchee in the light haze.

Another couple was there — a bit older than us and seriously out of shape. They were wrestling with something heavy in a blanket, trying to get it into the back of their pickup. We didn’t snoop until they were gone. Then we followed the short trail they’d come from and discovered a place where people had been cutting stone from the side of the hill. Cutting, like with a stone-cutting saw. The kind of equipment that requires a generator and probably water to cool the blade. I don’t think they had that equipment; they might have been taking a loose rock. It looked like granite to me, but it could have been something else. (What do I know about rocks?) The whole thing was weird; it had taken us 20 minutes to drive the 4 miles; why would anyone lug stone-cutting equipment up there?

We continued along the Forest Road and, sure enough, not far from where I’d turned around on my motorcycle, the pavement ended. We followed the road through the forest, enjoying the views along the way. At one point, a Jeep caught up to us and we pulled aside so it could pass. Otherwise, there wasn’t much in the way of traffic.

Old Growth TreeI should mention that much of this was old growth forest. An absolutely huge tree grew close to the road and we got out to take a closer look. Its amazing to me that trees this large exist and that so many of them have been cut down. Actually seeing one is a real treat.

The road we were on ended at Route 2 and we continued through Stevens Pass and down to the west side of the Cascades. That’s when the traffic started up. It was Labor Day afternoon and everyone who had journeyed east for the weekend was heading home. I whipped out my iPad and the Maps app and found some alternate routes that paralleled Route 2. We probably saved about 30 minutes of drive time by taking these longer routes, each of which dumped us back on Route 2 after a pleasant drive through farmland or forest. Then we abandoned Route 2 completely in favor of Routes 522 and 524.

We stopped at Snoqualmie Ice Cream shop in Malby. The ice cream was good, but, in my opinion, not worth the very high price we paid for it. And the girl at the counter who served it had the personality of a wet rag.

Sailboat on Puget Sound with Mount Baker in BackgroundBack on the road, we continued along Route 524 to Edmonds and got on line for the ferry to Kingston. We’d timed it well and didn’t have to wait more than 15 minutes to get on the boat. We went up on deck to check out the view. Mount Baker was clearly visible to the northeast and even Mount Rainier could be seen through the haze to the south. I passed the time photographing sailboats we passed, trying to get Mount Baker in the background.

In Kingston, we didn’t hang around. It was getting late and we were hungry and unsure of where we’d be spending the night. We’d already planned on spending Day 2 in Victoria, BC, so we wanted an overnight stay someplace close to Port Angeles, where we’d pick up the ferry. So we headed that way on Route 104 and then 101.

We detoured to Dungeness. I don’t know what we expected to find there, but we didn’t find any interesting lodging opportunities. We did, however, find the Three Crabs Restaurant right on the bay. If I had to rate this place on service or atmosphere, I’d pan it. It had all the charm of a cheap family restaurant catering to people with low expectations. But the food — well that was a pleasant surprise. I had the best fried oysters ever — and I don’t toss around the word “best” very often at all. That made it worth the visit. (And here’s a tip to restaurant-goers who rate restaurants on Google, Yelp, etc.: don’t order steak in a seafood place.)

We got back on the road and headed toward Port Angeles. By this time, it was getting dark. My maps app suggested the Olympic Lodge and we homed in on it. It was a bit bigger and fancier than we expected. But it was evidently also empty. We went to the desk and they offered us a discounted rate within our price range. We took it. The room was large and comfortable. A fountain at ground level outside our window offered a nice soundtrack to a good night’s sleep.

Our Route:

How to Lower Gas Prices

Use less fuel.

Arm and a LegYesterday, during the brief time I was in the Jeep running errands in town, I caught part of an NPR interview with someone about the current fuel price situation. His take was that the fuel companies are gouging us — they’re obviously charging far more than it costs them to produce and deliver fuel.

My response to that: What the hell do you expect them to do?

Addicted to Oil

As one of my least favorite presidents so accurately quipped years ago, “Americans are addicted to oil.” (That may have been one of the few truthful things he uttered during his eight years reign.)

I agree. We are addicted to oil.

Look at it this way: the oil companies are drug dealers. They hook us on their product by making it relatively affordable — the U.S. still pays far less for gas than Europe and most of the rest of the world. The car companies help the process by selling us vehicles that are impractical for most people but have lots of “style” or “status” — which insecure people apparently need. Cities like Phoenix and Los Angeles further encourage us with their urban sprawl and insufficient mass transit, forcing us to drive to work from our dream homes in distant subdivisions.

So we settle in, like junkies, burning our daily fix of fuel. We drive everywhere in vehicles that are far bigger and more costly to operate than we need: trucks and SUVs instead of more fuel efficient sedans. We live in the ‘burbs and commute, alone in our cars, to our workplaces, which are sometimes thirty miles away or more. We’re too lazy to walk anywhere — we’ll often drive across the street from one shopping center to another.

When we’re good and hooked, the prices start coming up.

Bravo, oil companies! You sure know how to work that bottom line!

Hypocritical Whiners

In Wickenburg, I’ve been listening to people whining about fuel prices for the past ten years. They never seem to shut the hell up about it.

It’s the same complaint: local filling stations are gouging them on fuel prices. Wickenburg pays at least 10¢ more per gallon than they do in Phoenix. Funny thing is that these complaints are coming from the same people who think nothing of doing their grocery shopping down in Surprise, 35 miles away. So not only are they driving far more than they need to, but they’re likely buying their fuel where it’s cheaper anyway.

Still, they think our government should somehow intervene and cap fuel prices.

That’s the kicker. The same people who are complaining about fuel prices are the ones who voted in Republican congressmen and senators who are pro big business. The ones that are right behind tax breaks and other incentives for the oil companies. And they’re the same people who are saying we need smaller government and less regulation.

Guess what, folks? You can’t have it both ways.

We Have Empowered Them

I can’t complain about the fuel companies gouging us — which I agree that they probably are. Why can’t I complain? Because I recognize the right of a business to maximize its profit any way it legally can. If that means charging as much as the market will bear, so be it.

You see, there’s this little economic theory called Supply and Demand. As long as there’s demand for a product the provider of that product can charge as much as it wants — or as much as it can get away with. There comes a point, however, when the amount they charge is just too much and demand falls off. As supplies increase, prices go down.

This is basic economic theory.

So as long as we keep buying fuel, they’ll keep selling it to us at the highest prices they can squeeze out of us.

And I can’t fault them for that. We’ve made it possible for them to gouge us.

You Are the Solution

But we also have the power to make it stop.

Instead of complaining about it and carrying on like usual, do something about it. Want some ideas? Try these:

  • If you have a big fat SUV or truck or full size sedan, replace it with something more fuel efficient. There are lots of great options out there and, in some states, hybrid or electric vehicles also come with tax incentives.
  • If you need a big vehicle now and then to haul people or stuff, get a second, fuel-efficient vehicle for other driving. You might find that over time, you’ll save enough in fuel to pay for that vehicle. Or if two vehicles are completely out of the question, consider renting the big truck when you need it.
  • If you commute to work, carpool. Yes, I know this means sitting in a vehicle with other people while driving to and from work. But is that so bad? I carpooled to college for a semester during the first energy crisis and lived to tell about it. You can, too. Best of all, you can drive in the HOV lanes, which will get you there faster.
  • If you have an office job, telecommute. This might be a tough sell to your company, but why not try? Telecommuting not only saves you time and money, but it saves your employer money. How? Well, for starters, the more telecommuters they have on staff, the less office space they’ll need. Sure, you won’t get an office or cubicle with your name on it — you’ll likely have to use a shared space on the days you do come in — but think of going to work with your slippers on — and not having to fill your car with gas twice a week.
  • If you live too far from the office, move. Okay, so this isn’t easy to do, but you have to admit that it is possible. Right now is a great time to buy real estate, too — if you can afford it. Here’s a not-so-secret: Because there aren’t any good jobs in Wickenburg, where we’ve been living for 14 years, my husband works 55 miles away in Phoenix. We bought a cheap condo down there so he wouldn’t have to make the long drive every day. And guess what? He has a roommate who is in the same boat!
  • If you live too far from work, change jobs. Okay, so this isn’t too easy either, but again, it is possible. (Unless you live someplace with no jobs.)
  • If you often drive more than 10 miles to shop, shop online. I’m not talking about groceries here — I’m talking about the other things you might need to buy. The closest bookstore, tech store, and full-blown department store are 35 miles from my home. This might explain why Amazon.com gets so much of my business. And don’t try to say that they’re burning UPS/FedEx fuel. Those carriers are coming to Wickenburg anyway, so the incremental fuel cost is minimal.

These are just a few basic ideas. Surely you can think of more.

And before you start spouting excuses why you can’t do any of these things, why not do a little research to see if you can?

And instead of complaining about the problem, why not be part of the solution?

Remember, the reason they’re gouging us with fuel prices is because they can. We have empowered them. The solution is not government regulation. It’s consumer lifestyle change. When they start to see consumption go down, they’ll know our addiction is faltering. Their logical course of action is to drop prices to get the hook in a little deeper again.

It’s happened before; it’ll happen again. Why not give it a try and see?

The Long Drive with the Long Trailer

I move my mobile mansion from Wenatchee to Lake Powell.

I’ve been traveling for the past week or so, starting in Wenatchee Heights, WA and ending in Phoenix, AZ.

Day 1I left Wenatchee Heights with my 5th wheel RV hooked up behind my husband’s Chevy pickup. The first day’s drive was relatively short: from Wenatchee Heights to Walla Walla, a distance of only 190 miles. Only a small portion of the drive was on a freeway (I-90); the rest was on back roads through farmland.

It rained for part of the drive, but never enough to make the road slick. I took my time. The trailer weighs in at 15,000 pounds and although it tows well, I can never really forget that it’s back there.

At Walla WallaIn Walla Walla, I stayed at the Blue Valley RV Park. It was a relatively pleasant place, with average sized RV spots, full hookups, picnic tables and grass. The trees were too young to give shade, but I bet they’ll be nice in about 5 years. The main building had a pool table, laundry room, and restrooms. Everything was clean and the place was quiet. I got some laundry done, wrote an article for AircraftOwner Online, and relaxed.

I had dinner at two excellent local restaurants: T. Maccarone’s and Saffron Mediterranean Kitchen. It was nice to have a change of scenery. I was there for four nights. The wine with my dinner at T.Maccarone’s is what sent me to Dusted Valley Winery for a tasting, where I bought four bottles of wine.

Day 2 of the DriveOn Friday night, I got the trailer hooked up again and mostly ready to go. I needed to be on the road early for the next leg of my trip: from Walla Walla, WA to Draper, UT (south of Salt Lake City), a distance of 606 miles. I was on the road not long after dawn. The route took me south almost to Pendleton, OR, then onto I-84 through Oregon and Idaho and down into Utah, where I picked up I-15. The landscape started with farmland, then mountains, then more flat farmland, then more mountains, and then finally into the Salt Lake basin. I’d driven the route before with my underpowered Ford F150 pickup towing my old 22-foot Starcraft. It wasn’t fun then; Saturday’s drive was much more tolerable. I stopped three times for fuel and twice for food. It was very unlike me to make so many stops; I usually try to get food and fuel on the same stop, but the situation made that tough. I rolled into Draper, UT’s Camping World parking lot at 6:15 PM local time, just 15 minutes after the store closed. I’d called the week before and knew I could park out back, so I did. I even got to hook up 50 amp power.

Ann TorrenceOn Sunday, @AnnTorrence picked me up for a drive to Ft. Bridger, WY. There was a Mountain Man Rendezvous there with hundreds of people in period clothes set up with period campsites. The “period” was apparently mid 1800s. Ann was there to take photos and research a possibly future book project. I was there to take pictures and look around and have a day off from driving. I didn’t take a single photo, although I carried my camera bag around all day. Well, that’s not true. I did use my BlackBerry to take this shot of Ann. She, in turn, used her iPhone to take a shot of me with my only purchase: a genuine raccoon skin, which I hope to turn into a hat.

After a very pleasant lunch at Cafe Trio in Salt Lake City with Ann and her husband, Robert, I went back to their house to relax on the front porch. @BWJones showed up and I finally got to meet him in person. After a tour of the garden, Ann and Robert returned me to Draper for the evening. Again, Camping World had just closed for the day. No one had left any notes on the RV or truck (which was still attached) and the power was still connected. Alex the Bird entertained us for a while.

Day 3Monday — Labor Day — was my last drive day. I drove from Draper, UT to Page, AZ, a distance of 370 miles. I got a very early start, pulling out of the parking lot at 6:30 AM local time. By the time I stopped for fuel two hours later, I’d already gone more than 100 miles. (I parked with the big rig trucks and discovered that my rig was about as long as theirs.) This part of the drive was mostly on I-15, but started east on route 20 to Highway 89, which took us all the way to Page. The roads were mountainous and there was a lot of climbing and descending. There were also a lot more vehicles on the road, making driving a bit more of a chore.

Thunderbird RestaurantThe only food stop I made along the way was at the Thunderbird Restaurant at Mount Carmel Junction. The place is a bit of a tourist trap, but it does have good “ho-made” pies (whatever that means). Odd thing happened when I tried to leave. They couldn’t give me a bill because the computer was down. Apparently no one knows how to do basic math. All I had was a piece of pie with ice cream and an iced tea. They apparently expected me to wait until the computers came back online. With Alex the Bird in the front seat of the car, that was not an option. Finally, my waitress disappeared into the kitchen where she may have used her “lifeline” to get help with this difficult math problem. The verdict was $7.79. I was afraid to count my change.

I arrived at the Lake Powell Resort just west of Page, AZ at around 11:30 local time. I’d been on the road for 7 hours.

Mike and PlaneMy husband, who’d flown up in his plane and spent a few hours swimming in the lake, met me at the lodge restaurant for lunch. Afterwards, we put fuel in the truck and parked it (temporarily) at Page Municipal Airport. I gathered my belongings — forgetting only two things, one of which was vital — and we loaded into Mike’s plane. Then we started the long (90 minutes), hot (90°F+), and bumpy (I almost got sick) flight to Wickenburg. The only sights of interest along the way — keeping in mind that I make that flight about 1000 feet lower at least a dozen times a year — were a handful of forest fires east of our Howard Mesa place and a heavy rain shower coming out of a remarkably small cloud near Granite Mountain.

Back in Wickenburg, we put the plane away and went straight home. Hot and sweaty, it was good to take a shower in a real bathroom.

I was asleep by 8:30 PM.