A Nature Fix

So, I’m betting that the first thing most people think of when they think of a trip to Las Vegas is not necessarily a scenic river raft ride on the Colorado River.  But seriously, maybe it should be.  Today, we went on our once delayed river raft trip from the good folks at Hoover Dam Rafting Adventures.  We initially booked an hour-and-a-half trip for Thursday that would all but ensure we’d be at the airport in time on Friday.  There was no real way of knowing if the time shown on the website included transportation to and from the river, and the folks I called on the phone from Dallas, while helpful, were not directly connected to the tour company, so they couldn’t guarantee we’d make it to our flight today.  So we booked yesterday.  

On Tuesday, we got a call that our Thursday tour was cancelled.  Not enough interest, I suspect.  And we were either due a refund in full or an upgrade to a three hour tour with pick up, drop off and a turkey sandwich for lunch.  Once the woman on the phone promised we’d be back to our hotel by 3:30, we were in.  Our flight leaves around seven, so no worries.  And oh my gosh, what a good call that was.  We were taken in a very comfortable van to a restricted road that wound down to the base of the Hoover Dam.  We stood there, taking it all in, before we boarded our raft.  There were some cancellations, so the raft was pretty unpopulated.  We were there with six other people- seven, if you include the tour guide/boat operator.  We cruised around, got out a few times and took some amazing photos.  The Hoover Dam is a spectacle of engineering.  When was the last time a government project came in early and under budget?  Probably back in the ‘30s, when this dam went up.  

It was really a good nature fix after the smoky casinos, flashing lights and constant thrum of the city.  One reasonably quick van ride, and you’re floating past it all.  

We really enjoyed it.  I mean really.  The whole trip down the river was beautiful.  There were different kinds of birds flitting about, lots of folks paddling canoes and plenty to see as we made our way from the Hoover Dam to a spot farther down the line.  There’s not much I can say to describe it all at this point.  It was beautiful.  We were happy to be there.  That’s it.  

But if you ever go to Las Vegas, book that trip.   Don’t worry about a river raft in the winter.  They make efforts to keep all their patrons dry when it’s cold outside.  We got some great photos, fed our need to do something outdoorsy, and really wrapped up our Las Vegas days in unlikely fashion.  Just how we like it.  

We’re at the airport, now, relaxing with nothing on our agenda but a flight home.  We’ve kicked back with two plastic cups of slightly overpriced wine and done a crossword puzzle together,  It’s a good day today.  We’ll head back to Dallas, soon.  My younger brother is all ready to stay up late for the airport retrieval that looks increasingly like it may fall just after midnight, and after that, we have to get ready for a return to work.  Apparently, a polar vortex is headed to Dallas mid-day on Sunday, and we will need our heavy winter coats pretty soon.  So we move on. 

Until the next time we’re off for a bit, take care of yourselves.  We’re on until March, and we somehow have different spring breaks this year.  I am a week before him, and we have one weekend in common.  We’ll do something, but until then, this Monday-to-Friday was pretty great.  

One last link for all the photos you can stand: tinyurl.com/Dunlapvegas 

Have a great 2025! 

Date night

Depending on who is reading this right now, you may or may not know that Thursday is date night at Casa de Heather and Cas.  Sometimes, that’s a dinner out; occasionally, it’s pizza and a movie.  It’s just a night when we don’t do homework, we don’t run a ton of errands, and we do something together.  

Today is Thursday, and it turns out we had ourselves a date night in Nevada.  It started in the morning with a trip to the iconic “Welcome to Las Vegas” sign.  Oof, there are a lot of people who want that same photo.  We opted for a quick selfie and a hasty retreat.  There was one heck of a line.  That was our first adventure on a city bus.  There’s a double-decker bus called “The Deuce” that runs up and down the strip, extending out a little on the north and south ends to some other attractions.  For eight bucks a head, you can hop on anytime you want for a full 24 hours.  

Our intention was to go from our hotel at the south end of the Strip to that sign, even farther south, then all the way north, past the strip to Fremont Street, where we could see some of the remnant pieces of old Vegas.  It was interesting, but my threshold for places like that is pretty low.  At every turn, there’s a street performer or sketch artist or someone weaving items out of fallen palm fronds.  Each and every person wants you to buy a thing or tip for a thing, and they all have extra loud speakers, somehow.  All the shops had souvenirs, most of which were pretty inappropriate, and there were families with strollers everywhere.  It was frenetic.  It was more than I wanted to deal with.  We thought of maybe finding a place with outdoor seating where we could sip a beverage and watch the world go by, but the beverages available for sale were all canned beers and frozen fruity drinks, and we were feeling the need for something a little more upscale, somehow.  

That put us on a path to our next destination, which had us walking down a much more mellow street.  We made our way to the Mob Museum by way of a restaurant that specialized in margaritas and nachos.  That actually qualified as more upscale than the fare sold on the Fremont Street.  

That was a good stop, but we had to keep on moving.  The Mob Museum awaited us just a block or two away.  

It’s a good museum, too.  I was a little frustrated about one feature of the setup- it was put together in such a way that only one or two people could read an exhibit at a time.  The text was small and the hallways were tight, so there was lots to read and not much space to share.  That space constraint was unavoidable, too, as the Mob Museum was in a building that went up in the ‘30s and served as a combo post office and courthouse.  

The courthouse saw lots of hearings about corruption and the museum did a lot to explain what happened in Las Vegas surrounding prohibition, which is why the basement speakeasy was so awesome.  The visit to that speakeasy punctuated our learning about organized crime and bootlegging.

We ordered a drink that came mixed in a glass flask inside a hollowed out book.  It was served with a glass of ice on the side, but the prohibition feel of the hidden hooch was pretty unique.  When we determined that we needed to leave to make our next destination before the cold really kicked in, the waitress assured us we could come back later on.  She was very good, and so were the drinks.  

Next stop: The Neon Museum.  This was a spot where signs pulled down from old casinos and businesses rest, some illuminated and others not so much.  It had placards telling the famous features of the specific pieces and historical information about some of the items.  It was all very cool, and it was all outdoors, as large, neon signs are supposed to be.  

All in all, it was a very cool museum.  When we wrapped up our visit there, we took our waitress’ advice and went right back to the Mob Museum’s Speakeasy.  The drinks were good, and they had some really good looking small plates to share.  Two more cocktails and a plate of beef sliders later, and we were ready to call it a night.  We hopped back on the bus.  That was an adventure. There was a clearly drunk man on the top part with us who wanted us to all know two things: Sunday is his 68th birthday and his wife left him.  While I am sad about the state of his marriage, I don’t entirely know what that has to do with me or the rest of the folks trying to get south on the Vegas Strip.  After he concluded a verbal argument with another passenger, he made his way off the bus.  We were also joined by some very, very chatty young ladies and a slew of bachelorette revelers or birthday girls or something.  It was a very long one-hour bus ride.  Now, I don’t thing it was supposed to be a full hour, but there was a hockey game letting out right as we crept past that part of the strip, which is why it took so long.  Regardless, even that was entertaining.  

Tomorrow, we have to be packed and ready for our trip to the Hoover Dam.  The bags have to be checked in at the hotel desk when we leave for the adventure, so we can return to retrieve them, then head to the airport.  Apparently, our jobs want us back on Monday.  Go figure.  But overall, it was a pretty great date night.  

Here are our photos once again: tinyurl.com/Dunlapvegas 

Is this your card?

Our day yesterday began with a workout in the hotel fitness center.  As I pedaled the stationary bike, I wondered if the level of activity around me was normal for that particular fitness center, or if it was a New Year’s Day crowd bent on keeping resolutions.  For whatever reason, we had company.  So we did a little exercise, then we headed back to the room for a pair of showers and a bite to eat.  We had great plans today to eschew the monorail and walk about on the Strip.  It is a whole different perspective.  I spent a lot of time walking around, saying, “No, thank you.”  

I don’t want a flyer for a museum exhibit.  No, thank you.

I don’t want to go on your tour.  No, thank you.

I don’t want to engage in chit chat with a stranger that will invariably become a sales pitch.  No, thank you. 

I’d rather not pose for a photo with two showgirls.  No, thank you.

I would prefer not to take your trinket/leaflet/beaded bracelet as a signifier of my interest in your religion.  No, thank you.  

At least I said thank you.  It’s nothing I want to get used to, but walking on the Strip and fending off the hucksters and hustlers is probably a rite of passage for any Vegas visitor.  We did a fair amount of wandering, and were looking for a good lunch option when we ran into a “robot bartender.”  Don’t mind if I do.  We use a touch screen pad, tapped a credit card, and a robot arm started the job.  It fetched the glass and used a series of ceiling-mounted bottles to dispense measured shots of liquor.  The arm went to a dispenser for mixers and ice and it poured our beverages into cups.  Cas took a little film of the ordeal, but I mostly watched in delight.  The robot arm was perfectly adequate, but what it had in efficiency, it lacked in charm and local color.  A human bartender engages in conversation and occasionally, over-pours.  

Still, with several thousand steps registering on the step-counters and a robot-made drink in hand, we sought out a lunch option.  That many steps into the day and a workout done, we were actually pretty hungry, so we found a sandwich shop and went about the business of people watching some more.  News on that front: The sequin-per-person count, which ballooned on New Year’s Eve, was way down.  The number of people walking around in pajama pants was on the rise in the late morning and early afternoon, much to my dismay.  I am by no means a fancy dresser, but I am quite consistent.  I was brought up to look presentable in shared public spaces, so I always brush my hair and I never wear my in-the-house-only clothes to an out-of-the-house location.  

Naturally, our next move was to go up in a really tall thing and look out.  Eiffel Tower replica, anyone?  We went into the Paris hotel and casino and eventually found out how to buy tickets to go up to the observation deck.  Unlike the observation deck at the Strat, this one was open air.  (Pro tip, there’s a kiosk to buy tickets as well as a scannable QR code.  Do the kiosk.  The QR takes you to Ticketmaster, who charges you an extra fee.  It’s only $1.50 per person, but to heck with Ticketmaster, am I right?). 

With the kiosk visited and the tickets ready, we headed up to the beautiful but unnecessary bridge that takes folks to the elevator.  You have to walk away from the base of the tower to an escalator that takes you to a bridge.  The very French-looking bridge takes you right back to the base of the tower, just up a floor from where you bought the tickets.  I mean, I get what they’re going for, but it does’t make any sense.  

The elevator ride up was pretty quick, and the physical space at the top was kind of small.  We settled in on a spot at the railing, having verified on the Internet that the Bellagio fountains start their first show of the day at 3 pm.  We stood there, looking down at the pool of water at 2:55.  Serendipitous timing, if you ask me.  We managed to stick around up top for the 3:30 show, as well, then we lined up to head down.  As we were waiting, a couple was ushering their frightened son out of the elevator.  They assured him it was safe and everything was fine, but the poor kid had psyched himself up.  He was terrified.  And then, he and his dad were back on the way down with us.  When we got down to the pretty, unnecessary bridge to the escalator to the ground floor, started to plan our evening.  Before we left Dallas, we managed to discover that the Rio Hotel and Casino, in addition to being home to the Penn & Teller Theater, is host to a Kiss-themed glow-in-the-dark miniature golf course.  Of course we played.  Like we had a choice.  It was quite entertaining.  I guess I like Kiss as well as any other long-haired guitar rockers from the era, but the people who constructed this feature were absolute fanatics.  Fun fact- there’s a wedding chapel in there, too.  How about 19 holes and a few vows?  Then, maybe you can Rock and Roll All Night, but keep your energy up, because in addition to loving and honoring in sickness and in health, you have to Party Every Day!  

With the mini golf complete, we made our way to the permanently fixed Penn & Teller Theater.  They have a whole space named for their act, and they do a ton of shows.  When we got to our seats, there was a man seated, playing a grand piano, and near him, a tall fellow plucking away at a stand-up bass.  The bass player had to head out, though, as he needed to prepare to work with his partner, Teller.  I had no idea that Penn Jillette was so musical.  

The show was spectacular.  It was as surprising and irreverent as the tricks were impressive and logistically unlikely.  Cas and I have a few suspicions about how some of the tricks were done, but who really cares?  They were good tricks.  The wow factor surpasses the importance of the wool remaining firmly pulled over our eyes.  Penn has a habit of pulling from the audience, and we were seated on the main floor in Row G, alphabetically seven from the front, so my biggest fear was the same as a lot of unprepared students in classrooms across the country- I didn’t want to get called on.  We both managed to avoid walking onto the stage or participating in the act. 

We woke up this morning still talking about the show, wondering aloud how some portions were done.  But never mind that- it was a spectacle.  Here’s where we sat:

Now, we’re on for an unstructured, unscheduled day.  Today was supposed to be our trip out to the Hoover Dam, but that’s on for tomorrow.  Today’s tour was cancelled, so we got a pricier trip tomorrow at no additional cost.  Sounds like a good deal to me.  So today, we buy tickets on a city bus and head out.  We can see the Mob Museum or maybe the Neon Museum, then tonight, we’re thinking maybe the big Ferris wheel is in our future.  More on all of that later.  For now, photos: tinyurl.com/Dunapvegas 

A Very Cas and Heather New Year

Happy new year! It’s 2025, and our year started with both of us literally and figuratively looking up.  We’re hoping for a year of good health, good times and good fortune for those we hold dear.  

Let’s recap the last day of 2024.  We started slow, knowing we had a long way to go until midnight, especially midnight two time zones away from our own, normal midnight.  By the time Las Vegas midnight hit, it was Dallas 2 am.  A slow start was in order, and that’s a tough one for me, as my usual wake up time allows me a 45-minute workout before I get ready for work.  

So we found our way to a Starbucks- everything is inside one of the Casino/Hotels, of course.  Starbucks was no exception.  We got a pair of fancy coffees and a couple of breakfast sandwiches, courtesy of students at Cas’ school who express teacher appreciation with Starbucks gift cards.  After that, we were ready to roll.  To avoid future $30 breakfasts, our first stop was a convenience store, where we picked up some bananas and pastries.  Five bucks now has us fed each morning until it’s time to go home.  

Next on our agenda was a rollercoaster.  Not a figurative rollercoaster- a literal one.  The folks at the New York New York casino have found a way to sandwich a full-sized, high-quality roller coaster into the Vegas Strip.  There was apparently a different coaster atop another casino farther north, but this was a really good coaster, and Cas assures me the other one left something to be desired.  The coaster we rode was properly exciting and very well constructed.  This was an objectively good coaster, and I wasn’t expecting that, as it had to be exciting and thrilling while winding around some large structural pieces.  Five stars- definitely recommend- with the caveat that you should sit it out if you have trouble with your neck.  It bounces your head around a bit.  And bring a ponytail holder for long hair.  Just sayin’.  

After that, we hopped on the monorail.  There is a monorail that runs north-south parallel to the Vegas Strip, and it’s a great way to move about the space.  The track is only four miles long, but the four miles are heavily populated real estate.  It’s a very cool feature.  The New York New York hotel and casino is accessible from the southernmost stop on the monorail, wile the northernmost stop features the Sahara and the Strat.  The Strat features a tall observation deck, and we’re suckers for going way up into tall things and looking out.  That was our destination, but on the way, we walked through the Sahara Casino.  If I’m being honest, most casinos I have seen on this trip are disappointing to look at.  You want the scenes from movies with some lucky rube throwing dice at one table, while nearby, a Sean Connery type lifts only the corner of a card with his thumb, places a chip on the table and orders a martini.  Alas, in each of these casinos, I was getting flashbacks to working in the Dave and Buster’s midway, and it made me feel like I should be carrying a cocktail tray.  Video slots are as bright and loud as they are pervasive.  So much for old-world charm.  

Bonus time, though- what did we happen to see in the Sahara as we walked past the flashing, buzzing, dinging and whirring?  The Casbar.  I mean.  Cas.  Bar.  A bar for Cas?  Don’t mind if we do.  

Like we had a choice… We had to stop in.  The signature drink at the Casbar is the Casbar sour.  Two of those, please.  Cas assured me that we’d drop everything for a Heather Bar, if one exists.  I’m good either way.  After a lifetime of never finding his name in the keychain section of souvenir shops or on coffee mugs, a whole bar and a signature drink named for him was pretty neat.  And the Casbar sour is pretty tasty.  

After that, we were off to the Strat, then up to the observation deck.  We stood 1,149 feet up above it all, looking out at the mountains in the distance, then at the Vegas Strip.  We had a very light lunch and gazed out the windows, then we watched some crazy people do a thing where they (in serious harnesses) jumped from the side of the building down to the street.  They are hooked onto a cable and a bungee cord. And everything is controlled so they head straight on a y-axis with no divergence from the plan.  Feels like cheating- we’re still reeling from our jump over the Kawarau River in New Zealand in 2016.  That’s pretty hard to top.  

From the Strat, we headed back south on the Monorail.  We had a little time to kill and a little looking around to do before our dinner reservations.  We only made reservations for one night in town, here, and that was last night.  New Year’s Eve dinner was the one thing we didn’t want to leave to chance.  Everyone who was in town for the midnight fireworks and the myriad concerts leading up to that was going to have to eat, too, and we didn’t want to engage in any competition for a table.  To that end, we had Chinese at a place called Chin Chin, which was, of course, inside of a hotel/casino.  After that (and a little more walking and exploring) Cas let me off the hook.  He’s good at powering through and staying awake. But I wasn’t going to make it to midnight.  I needed a nap.  So at about 10:30 Vegas time (already the new year at home) we flopped for an hour.  That made getting up to head outside a pretty tough sell, but we managed to pry ourselves out of the blankets and put our shoes back on for the midnight fireworks show.  And good thing we did, too.  It did not disappoint.  The whole Strip was closed off to traffic, and people were walking around in the road.  Pretty surreal, as the road is usually bumper-to-bumper, even with the monorail eliminating tons of cars.  But we did it.  We stood there in the road, looked out at the big screen ticking down the seconds until 2025, and we cheered the arrival of another year of adventures together.  

Today, we have a little unstructured time in the beginning of the day, and tickets to see Penn and Teller in the evening.  Tomorrow, we’re headed to explore Fremont street, where relics of Old Vegas promise to impress, and Friday (changed from Thursday due to a little schedule shuffling on the part of the tour company) we head to a raft on the Colorado River to check out the Hoover Dam.  I am excited for all of it.  See you on the other side of this day- hope your 2025 is starting off great.  

Check out out photo album: https://tinyurl.com/dunlapvegas