Monday, March 24, 2003
Route 66
Well, today we have to get back to Vegas. It is a 4 to 5 hour drive from Flagstaff, and we want to see things along the way, poke around Las Vegas some more, and pack for our return journey.
Before starting off, we have breakfast in a 50s-style diner. George is pretty fascinated by the whole Route 66 nostalgia thing, and he pesters the waitress about the TV series "route 66": does she know about it, are there any pictures about it here (there are period pictures plastered all over the walls), etc etc...
Old Route 66 Gas Stop
Continuing on the Route 66 theme, I tell George about the route itself and where it physically is around here, and mention that we can actually follow portions of it that are still around. He likes that idea very much, so, instead of following the Interstate to LV, we branch off and head down empty stretches of two-lane blacktop straight through the desert, with occasional old 50s-era towns complete with old gas stations and motels. It is a pleasant ride back.
George continues to be nostalgic
We are a bit worried about the Hoover Dam, since as I recall it is one of those 'sensitive' areas that the US government is worried about. The route back to Vegas goes over the Hoover Dam, and besides, George is very interested to see it.
We see signs about an hour away that state that no transport trucks or buses are allowed over the dam, which is a change from the last time I was here. So definitely security was up. Other than that there were no indications, so we decided to go that route.
As we got within 5 miles of the Dam, there was an actual police security checkpoint, border-style almost, where they stopped the vehicle, asked a question or two, and had a quick look inside. And for anything large they were doing searches (e.g. an RV). Wow. Pretty heavy stuff. Of course the attack on Iraq was underway and that may have contributed to the extra security. Still, times had changed.
The Hoover Dam
One side benefit of the extra security is that there was less heavy transport, and I think less traffic in general (the Hoover Dam is typically a pretty crowded and busy place, so traffic can move pretty slowly). We stop on the Arizona side for some pictures, and Dad and George are impressed. The Hoover Dam is built in a narrow constriction in the Colorado and is pretty scenic itself.
courtesy George
Hoover Dam Lower works
George is interested in exploring a bit more, and so since the traffic is moving so slowly, I suggest that he walk ahead across the dam and I will catch him on the other side (George works for Ottawa Hydro and so he is a bit of a electricity-geek type, and so this place holds a special interest for him). I also encourage Dad to get out and have a look around, which he does.
The Hoover Dam
Of course, as Murphy's law would have it, the traffic speeds up and I am on the other side of the dam before Dad and George can get there. Since there is no other place to stop, I am obliged to pay for a spot in the parking garage, and I head down to meet them. If we had time, I'd have suggested one of the dam tours, which I am sure George would have really liked!
Hoover Dam from the air.
The adventures of Route 66 and the Hoover Dam now over, it is only a short drive to Las Vegas... soon we are checking back into to my favorite Motel 6, this time getting a ground-floor room - nothing more annoying than lugging huge duffel bags of gear up and down stairs.
Fountains of the Bellagio
It is late afternoon, and George and Dad want to wander around Vegas and see the sights. George is a big Celine Dion fan and wants to check out her new setup at Ceasar's Palace (she begins a new singing run the very next night at Ceasar's Palace). Also, Dad wants to treat us to a big farewell supper, and that sounds mighty good.
Paris...
So, we wander to some of the big-name places: The Bellagio, Ceasar's Palace, The Venetian, Treasure Island. we are all very impressed by the dancing fountains at the Bellagio, which are impressively choreographed with music, and by the Pirate show at Treasure Island. Dad took us out to a really good Italian restaurant at the Venetian. I had Squash Tortellini (alla panna, I think), George had some sort of linguini with mussels, Dad had a Margherita pizza, and we all shared a bottle of Bardolino wine, and reminisced about all that had happened during our short week. We had crammed whole lot into that week. We had made the most of it!
I could tell that Dad was feeling some sadness as the end of our journey approached. It is always normal to feel a little twinge at the end of something that you are really enjoying, but perhaps it was more for Dad. Maybe he felt that this would be some sort of 'final journey' or something. However, one of the very reasons why I made this trip happen was to prove precisely the opposite. Incredible things are possible if you put some action and determination behind thoughts. And can continue to be possible. Perhaps he would take a bit of that away from this.....
We returned to our motel room, full but satisfied, and did a bit more packing before heading off to sleep. Our flight back the next day was security-heightened but otherwise uneventful and on-time, and it was not long before we were magically transported by modern travel back to Ottawa. Surprisingly, much of the snow had melted in just one week!
Dad left for Bathurst on the train the next day. Through e-mails and MSN messenger chats, I could tell Dad was on a high for many many days. I am so glad that this trip reached and surpassed its potential. Having George along had proved perfect. He provided a great balance, symmetry, and dynamic. It simply wouldn't have been the same without him.
So, what do I have to say as a closing statement?
Well, first, I had a great time. I love showing things I am passionate about to eager newcomers (for lack of a better word); I am deeply moved by the landscape of the Coloradeau plateau in general; I so wanted to really _show_ Dad something about myself; not just talk about it, but truly show him, and I think that he glimpsed what I glimpse when I gaze across canyons into the haze of distance and time. And, most importantly, I wanted to show Dad what he was capable of. In our society of conformity, 'common wisdom' would tell us that an 82-year old should not be climbing up to the edge of thousand foot cliffs, or scrambling down rock by headlamp, or eating hot soup in the desert while watching the sun rise. It would tell us that... I, and he, had proved that common wisdom WRONG. As I had known we would.
You can do anything, Dad. Just put your mind to it. I am very proud of you!
And so, until next time...... happy trails!
...Andrew
