Keep Those Cards and Letters Coming . . .

LA/XC DAYS FIVE AND SIX:   AMARILLO TO GRAND CANYON; GRAND CANYON TO LAS VEGAS

•  Two-day mileage:  1,039

•  New states for Beagle Man:  2 (Arizona, Nevada)

•  GREAT NEW CONTEST:  GUESS MY TOTAL RETURN MILEAGE!  (Hint:  I will not be traveling back east using the same route I used going west.)  Winner gets a very cool trip souvenir.

Ricky and I pulled into Vegas last night and drove up and down the Strip.  Ohmygod.  This is way, way more impressive than I bargained for.  Not that I want to spend a great deal of time here.  (One overnight is fine.)  Not that I plan to do any gambling.  But for sheer spectacle, this might rival the Grand Canyon — which we also saw today.  Okay, it might not rival the Grand Canyon.  But you know what I mean.

Passed a sign for the Hoover Dam a little way back down the road on 93 North.  It’s a little embarrassing, not having stopped; I’m pretty sure my friend Lang told me not to miss it.  It’s kind of like when my boys were much younger and wouldn’t get out of the car and walk through the ruins at Pompeii because it was drizzling.  Seriously, though, it was pitch black when I drove by.  That’s been one of the fatal flaws of my journey:  In my six days of traveling, I’ve reached my destination after dark five times. Gotta admit, it kind of bums me out.

Monday night was one of those nights:  I was pressing along on I-40 West, trying to make my hotel in Tusayan (a tiny townlet just outside the Grand Canyon) at a reasonable hour, when I noticed that Garmin pegged my arrival for 10:35 PM.  As I started

to feel sorry for myself, I had 3 eureka moments, bang-bang-bang:

1.  You know how on the interstate they periodically post the mileage to a big faraway city, and then when you reach that city, they start posting a new one?  Well, Flagstaff had been that destination for the length of Arizona.  And the moment I passed Flagstaff?  Los Angeles 492.  Though it sometimes didn’t seem like it, I guess we’re really getting there.

2.  The Grand Hotel, my lodgings for my G.C. overnight, was the Four Seasons Maui compared to the Baymont Inn & Suites — the scary-awful horror show I stayed in alongside I-40 in Amarillo.

3.  While I was checking into the Grand, under the impression it was past 10:30 PM, the nice lady at the front desk told me it was actually 9:35 local time.  (While Grand Canyon is Mountain Time, as I thought, they don’t switch to Daylight Savings Time.  Don’t ask . . .)  Bottom line — it was only 9:35 at night, which for me on this trip, is like the crack of dawn.  All of a sudden I didn’t feel so tired anymore.

Tuesday morning Ricky and I rolled into Grand Canyon National Park, ready to rumble.  There was a flashing sign over the entrance road:  FIRE IN PROGRESS . . . NATIONAL PARK OPEN.  That’s good.  Wouldn’t want them to close the Grand Canyon on me just because of a forest fire.  After paying the $25 entry fee, saw another sign:  FIRE DANGER TODAY:  MODERATE.  Oh, okay.  Only moderate.  Pffff . . .

I’ll say it right here and now:  The Grand Canyon alone was worth this entire drive.  I was not disappointed.  (Ricky was less impressed, snoozing through the entire adventure, except when I woke him for the one photo, top right.)  I did the 50-mile Desert View Drive, and each lookout point was more mind-boggling than the one before.  If you’re one of those people who likes a good wonder of the world (most people), you couldn’t fail to be blown away by the sheer scale.  Then again, if you’re one of those people who doesn’t like nature (Carol), after you’ve seen one vista, you might say, “Okay, I’m good.”

By the way, I’m pretty sure I was the first American ever to see the Grand Canyon — at least judging by the tourists staying at the Grand Hotel and those I saw at the lookout points.  All very Bavarian.

Not sure exactly what possessed me to beg for your comments as I set off on this journey, but really glad I did.  I’m getting a huge kick out of all of them, so keep ’em coming.  And by the way, Sally Jo, those “soft, wrappy things” for the seat belt sound great.  I realized the towel wasn’t such an elegant solution, so I’ve graduated to using yesterday’s T-shirt.

A couple of random thoughts from this segment of the road trip:

•  As you leave the Texas panhandle on I-40 going west, the billboard says:  WELCOME TO NEW MEXICO — THE LAND OF ENCHANTMENT.  May I suggest a change to WELCOME TO NEW MEXICO — THE LAND OF THE CLOSED REST AREAS?

•  Another road sign spotted in that land of enchantment:  METERORITES — 50% OFF

Hey, an idea just struck me:  You’ve noticed my posting datelines have often been around 3 or 4 in the morning when, quite frankly, I’m just a bit exhausted?  Well, how ’bout I start writing these things in the morning? Wow — kind of like my dog-in-the-crate revelation.

Gotta quit now.  Ricky’s eating my contact lenses.  Also, there’s a boy in L.A. waiting to see his dog.