Day Three - Vegas to the grand Grand Canyon (July 29, 2013)

I was up by 8ish.  I took the "golf cart" to the local 7-11 for coffee.  When I asked the woman at the 7-11 for decaf she looked at me as though I'd asked for Drano-laced cappucino.  But she willingly made up an entire coffee urn of decaf because I'd asked for it.  Apparently the population of Las Vegas does not use decaf.  I guess that actually makes sense if you think about it.

Back to the hotel with two VERY hot cups of coffee and some McDonald's egg white McMuffins (two thumbs up from me!)  I got into the elevator (which had some wacky characteristics) for a *hopefully* quick ride to the 15th floor.  Well, ten minutes later I had gone up and down like a yo-yo without being any closer to my destination.  There was a dripping wet German who got on on the fourth floor to go down to the pool.  Then a bunch of other people got on at various floors to go to other floors, none of which were MY floor.  So I rode and rode with my hot coffee and McDonald's bag.  As it turned out, the German ended up getting to the pool before I got to my floor.  As he left he said in broken English, "Well, at least we are happy" (meaning himself and the other people that got to their correct floors) as he left the elevator.  Gee, thanks.  Sounds like the entirety of German's answer to World War II in a nutshell.  Lovely.

Death trap

Anyway, enough of my Euro-bashing.  We left the hotel after
10 am and went back to NYNY with our voucher for that roller coaster ride.  Not a cloud in the sky.  We were NOT going to miss out on it THIS time!  Too bad we didn't.  The ride was the absolute WORST roller coaster I have ever had the misfortune to ride.  It was the teeth-rattling, bone-shattering, head-slamming, kidney punching, concussion-inducing, femur-rattling ride from the bowels of hell.  (refer back to Mistake #2)  It really hurt like a mother.  I'm sure Barbie would have some choice words for this ride, but I'm sure she was still outside Caesar's ranting the F word. On the bright side, we did get a magnet!  So all is forgiven.

Michael also got a red rubber ball from a claw machine.  Exactly what he needed to keep him occupied for our ride to the Canyon.  He's such a boy.

I had wanted to get some pics of the famed Las Vegas sign which we did not see on our way into the city.  We were on the Interstate and the sign is placed on Las Vegas Blvd. which is where you would normally drive into the city pre-interstate days.  It's south of the city.  So it would welcome all those "swells" who were making their way from L.A. to Vegas as they drove up in their Buicks and Caddies.  (see Day One for the photo of the famous sign).

JACKPOT! 100 oz of sweet Diet Coke

We stopped, got our pics, and hurried on towards that big hole in Arizona.  On the way we did spy Lake Mead but did not stop.  Where did we stop?  At a gas station to stock up on car provisions.  And I hit the JACKPOT!  Slot machine?  No.  I got a 100 oz. soda for $1.49 (with reusable cup).  KA-CHING!!  Life is sweet.  Take that Mayor Bloomberg!

I won't bore you with any details of the drive from Vegas to the Canyon.  Just lots and lots and lots of miles of endless nothing.  First scrubby nothing, then pine-treed nothing, then mountainous and pine-treed nothing.  At times Steve would wonder about what people did when they broke down and then we'd all fall into silent prayer that it wouldn't be us.  We did get lost at one point that added another hour to the trip (which we really didn't need) so it took us six hours to get there instead of five.

We checked into Thunderbird Lodge which is located right on the rim.  Very sparse accommodations, but everything we need.  We got everything into the room and settled and then Steve wanted to take a look.  This is HIS THING.  He LOVES the Grand Canyon.  He loves hiking it, looking at it, marveling at the colors, absorbing into his pores.  He just is mesmerized by it.  I think Michael was more impressed by the casino.  And I was still staring at my lovely 100 oz. cup.  To each his own.

The Canyon

We were slated to do our "hike" the next day, but Steve still wanted to go down the trail a little ways right then and there.  The funniest thing (okay, funny strange, not ha-ha) was that he had no idea how close we were to the Bright Angel trailhead.  We got into the car to "drive" there only to find out that the trailhead was actually within about 150 yards from our hotel room.  Since he'd always come up for the day and never stayed in any of the places on the rim, he was completely turned around.  Luckily I figured it out before we lost our parking space.  So we got back out of the car and walked to the trail.

Okay, right here I have to relate to you an entry I made into my notebook that I kept during the trip.  It reads, "A little worried about hike tomorrow.  I know I need plenty of water to hike."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA--wiping tears away--HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!

A LITTLE WORRIED!  Yeah, and Kim Kardashian is a little overplayed.  Lindsay Lohan was a little addicted.  Paris Hilton is a little overrated.  Charlie Sheen is a little crazy.  I should've been petrified, I should've been clinging to the door frame as Steve dragged me out, I should've run screaming for the exit, but I just wasn't aware.  Perhaps if I'd seen the book that I bought after my traumatic hike, I would've thought twice about the hike.  What book?  "Over the Edge:  Death in the Canyon" .  Enlightening.  If you are thinking of hiking, read it first.  At the very least, you won't be an addendum to the book next year.

But I didn't.  Buy the book.  Until after the hike.  So, no, that's not my picture on the cover.

BUT while we took a look on the trailhead that night, we almost did see another potential entry happen.  This DOOFUS with his two young girls was HELPING them up onto an unprotected cliff (no rails) so that they could go investigate this small opening in the cliff wall.  I would estimate their ages at about 8 and 12.  WHAT THE -- Where is Barbie when I need her to curse for me?  WHAT WAS THIS GUY THINKING??  And so you can understand why the book is 586 pages long.

Our last meal.  Profectic words?  Hopefully.

We ate at Bright Angel Lodge and went to bed relatively early to be ready for the hike.  Can one actually prepare for the snuffing out of one's life on a dusty, rocky trail?  Soldier on, dear reader.