After our exhilarating experience hiking Angels Landing in Zion NP, we head to Las Vegas — i.e. we are going from the ultimate natural experience to the ultimate non-natural experience.
The reason: we have a freebie week at a timeshare (thanks to sitting through a timeshare presentation last spring). We want to use it the week between Thanksgiving and my 64th birthday (Friday to Friday, Nov 26-Dec 2).
But first comes the holiday. Where should we celebrate Thanksgiving? We haven’t made a plan, which feels odd. At loose ends.
Sand Hollow SP
The first unusual thing today — we wake up in a desert windstorm. As we enjoy our first cup of coffee in bed, the camper shakes and rattles. As we eat our breakfast in the dinette, the wind lifts curtains of sand and flings them across the desert.
We look at each other and say: Let’s get out of here!
First Doug has to dump the tanks. Poor guy. In the strong wind it’s a real challenge. When he opens the camper door, the exhaust fan spins as if it’s turned on high. But it’s just the wind.
We set our sights on Valley of Fire SP, just east of Las Vegas.
We head south on Route 15, toward St. George, Utah. As we pass a cutaway in the mountain, the wind is strong enough to buffet the rig about. Which is amazing since Big Blue weighs in at five tons.
Pick up trucks zip past us, even when they’re towing toy-haulers and trailers loaded with dirt bikes. Perhaps the drivers are used to this wind.
When we turn off the main road, we notice a house under construction and stop to watch as sheets of insulation peel off and blow away. Good golly.
St. George, Utah
We’ve heard that St. George is a hub for retired Mormons. There are lots of museums and buildings related to their pioneer heritage, including an historic temple.
Once we arrive, I remember being here with the family before, although I somehow shelved the memory. When we pass the “Brigham Young Winter Home” it all comes back.
Sure enough, when I searched our pictures from our December 2014 trip, I found many from St. George. I took the photo of Doug (below) because our daughters thought the sign was hilarious. Wouldn’t you agree?
Please share your favorite polygamy joke in the comments!
Lunch at the Painted Pony
In St. George we experience the second unusual thing of the day — an upscale lunch. We’re in the mood to treat ourselves. Maybe we’re feeling a little sorry for ourselves, celebrating a holiday without our family. Life on the road has its downsides.
After some effort we find a well-reviewed restaurant called the Painted Pony, tucked away in a gentrified historic area. I feel underdressed, wearing a casual cotton tee and dusty jeans. But I’m too old to care what other people think. Plus, we are the only people in the restaurant wearing masks. So who will judge whom?
We order appetizers and entree salads. A cup of carrot jalapeño soup is flavorful but as thin as water. The potato and salmon cakes (below) look good, but have only a few shreds of salmon. Fortunately our salads are delicious.
Food commentary aside, we enjoy our meal. Eight weeks into this adventure, it feels novel to be somewhere “fancy.” Maybe it feels like our old lives, maybe even like our pre-pandemic lives.
Desert Driving
Back in Big Blue for another 100 miles. There’s still a heavy wind, but it doesn’t deter the heavy traffic from moving fast. I suppose everyone is headed somewhere for the holiday.
Along the Virgin River canyon, a sign warns about strong crosswinds. A permanent sign.
We cross into Nevada, the 14th state of the trip so far. We enter Mountain Time.
The sun is low in the sky when we arrive at Valley of Fire SP. It’s 3:30 local time (4:30 body time). The parking area is packed with vehicles. The sign says “Campground Full.”
This is why we didn’t make plans.
Lake Mead National Recreation Area
We don’t panic. We saw lots of people boondocking (camping without amenities) the last few miles. We check the iOverlander app. It says there’s dry camping available on the beach along the Overton arm of Lake Mead, about 8 miles away.
As we drive down a dirt road into the Lake Mead National Recreational Area, we spot two wild burros, a mother and child. The sight soothes my soul.
A dozen rigs dot the expanse that slopes down to Lake Mead, but there are acres and acres of space. It’s no problem to find a level spot on hard-packed sand.
THURSDAY, Nov 25, Thanksgiving Day
Thanksgiving Day! A very quiet day.
For breakfast Doug fixes a tube of cinnamon rolls and fruit salad. We FaceTime my mother, and then our daughters. For lunch we grill the sandwiches Doug made for yesterday‘s lunch, before we decided to eat out. I spend the afternoon writing so I can post an entry on the blog.
During golden hour we walk down to Lake Mead. We wend our way all around to get to the edge of the water. The water level is so low that the shoreline is a series of cliffs, the former lake bottom, now as desiccated as salt flats.
We walk for a long, convoluted way until we can get to the water. The way is dotted with fire pits and trash.
We hear — and then use the binoculars to watch — a white Sprinter Van. It revs its engine as it descends toward the lake in a series of zigzags. Each zig or zag brings it closer to the shoreline. But how will it get out?
We speculate that the driver must be a YouTuber. Who else would be so determined to camp at a certain spot?
We use the binoculars to scan for other life, maybe burros. Maybe waterfowl. Nothing.
Just us.
(We will later learn that in the future, perhaps within two years, Las Vegas will no longer be able to siphon water out of Lake Mead, as that water is headed to California. In other words, Las Vegas will soon be out of water entirely.)
Back at camp, Doug builds a fire so we can enjoy the sunset with a campfire and a cocktail.
We’re not roasting a turkey, but our meal does include poultry. The menu: chicken cordon bleu, individually packaged, instant mashed potatoes, boxed stuffing, a can of vegetables, salad.
At home we enjoy cooking, but on the road it makes sense to “heat and eat.”
On this Thanksgiving evening, it is easy to give thanks from the heart. I am grateful beyond telling for this adventure and all its delights and challenges.
Next time: Las Vegas! (and lots of problems).
That fact about Las Vegas is horrifying. What major city is next?
The picture of the sand blowing across the road reminded me of a time when we drove home from western SD through Lusk, WY. We hit a ground blizzard; visibility was limited to about 30 feet ahead of us, but if we looked straight up, the sky was blue. SO WEIRD.
This travelog is a real time trip! I had to actually stop and think about our Thanksgiving. It's far enough behind us to be a little dim, y'know? We had a traditional turkey dinner in Butler, then had a vegan meal in Pittsburgh. Jacob had to be at work the next day, so he and I drove home that night and David and his dad went back to Butler.
I don't have a polygamy joke but laughed at the sign!