By the Time I Get To Phoenix, Day 3

Monday morning, Kevin had some errands to run, so he left me at the motel with my books and iPhone.  As I have the geocaching app on my iPhone, I decided to see if there were any nearby caches, just so I could add Arizona to my list of states.  Sure enough, there was one just one third of a mile away, so off I went in search of the proverbial needle in the haystack.  As a rule, I do not like urban caches.  There are too many people hanging around wondering what the ... you're doing with your nose to the ground by that power station.  Also, I have no desire to be picked up by Homeland Security as a threat to public decency and order.  But this cache was hidden on a hillside covered with scree, mostly shale, and there were no buildings around.  I did have to get past the fence that bordered the sidewalk, but behind a bus shelter, the fence was open, so in I went.

 Arizona Countryside

10/27/2014

North of Wickenburg, Arizona

I don't know how much time I spent scrambling up that hill and looking in various places, but in time the hiding spot became obvious, and I found the cache.  This was a fairly normal sized cache, hidden in a Tupperware sandwich container, but there was no writing instrument in the box.  Of course I had none with me either, so I was not able to sign the log.  I did take a photograph of the container in case anyone questioned my claim to have found the cache.

Standing up, I faced one of my worst fears--going downhill on slippery ground.  Fortunately, from this vantage point I saw what I had not seen climbing the hill.  There was a very clear trail from the hiding spot back to the sidewalk.  I didn't have to scramble down on all fours, the way I had gone up.  But somehow, even though I was wearing shoes, I managed to bruise my left foot and by the time I made it back to the motel, I could barely walk.  A month later, that injury still troubles me at times.

Kevin returned shortly after my adventure, so we packed up the truck and headed home.  With no desire on either of our parts to follow the same route we had taken southbound, we headed northwest, instead, driving toward Wickenburg, a town sixty miles northwest of Phoenix, but still in Maricopa County.  Wickenburg is the southern terminus of US 93, and it was our goal to drive 93 all the way home--well at least to where we would have to turn onto Montana 200 to get to Plains.

We've made the drive between Phoenix and Wickenburg several times, and I don't see anything scenic about the route.  This time we took a different highway, and I still didn't see anything worth mentioning, but once on 93 heading toward Las Vegas, we started climbing into the mountains and the desert showed its pretty face.

 Proposed Interstate 11

(U.S. Highway 93)

10/27/2014

South of Hoover Dam, Arizona

Between Wickenburg and Hoover Dam, we kept seeing signs indicating that our beloved US 93 would possibly be renamed Interstate 11.  I gathered that someone felt it beneficial to connect Phoenix with Las Vegas by something other than a two-lane mountain road, but in doing my research for this post, I have learned that the proposal goes even further, with the possibility of I-11 reaching from the Mexican border to the Canadian, probably following US 95 from Vegas north.  When this will actually happen remains to be seen.  The highway is just in feasibility studies at present.

We stopped at Bullhead City, Nevada for lunch, and following a meal that was way too heavy in carbohydrates, we stopped in the parking lot long enough for me to take some photos of Lake Mead, a body of water that is dangerously low thanks to the ongoing drought the West is experiencing.  While I was standing there, camera in hand, a sight-seeing helicopter took off from the edge of the parking lot and seemed to drop right on top of me.  Yes, of course I got pictures even as I wondered if the thing was going to fall out of the sky.  But no, it righted itself and took off on what has to be one of the shortest helicopter tours around.  We didn't check to see what the five minute ride cost, but frankly, after getting a private helicopter tour of the Grand Canyon a few years ago, I'm kind of spoiled.  This ride was much too short, in my opinion, as the 'copter was landing back in the parking lot as we drove off.

 Water, Rocks, Helicopter

10/27/2014

Hoover Dam, Nevada

We spent as little time in Vegas as possible, getting off the highway only to refuel the truck, and in a short while, we were leaving Interstate 15 and heading north again on US 93.  This section was the only part of 93 new to me.  The highway itself runs from Wickenburg to the Canadian border north of the town of Eureka, Montana.  It is the most heavily traveled highway in the state of Montana, connecting Missoula and Kalispell, with all the Missoula commuters from the Bitterroot Valley driving it daily, not to mention all the folks headed to Flathead Lake which borders the highway.  A good many Glacier National Park visitors also drive 93.  North of the international border, the highway becomes British Columbia 93, and when it crosses the Rockies into Banff National Park, it becomes Alberta 93, extending past the Columbia Ice Fields to meet up with the Yellowhead Highway north of Jasper, Alberta.  I've driven every mile of the highway from its northern end west of Edmonton to Wells, Nevada, and again from Las Vegas to its southern end at Wickenburg.  Never before had I caught the section between Wells and Vegas.

North of I-15, we crossed into Lincoln County, one of two Nevada counties I had never visited.  I'll have to go back, because this time, with the exception of a couple quick stops in the the town of Caliente, we didn't really do any sight seeing.  Caliente itself caught our attention first for the size of the Union Pacific Railroad Station there, and second for a beautiful old DeSoto parked for sale alongside the highway.  Judging by the station, Caliente was once a destination stop, probably because of the hot springs that gave the town its name.  Today that station houses the city library, other public offices, and a museum/gallery, according to Wikipedia.  I couldn't say as the closest we got to it was parked alongside the highway so I could take this picture.

 Union Pacific Station

10/27/2014

Caliente, Nevada

The DeSoto was well worth the time it took to photograph as well, and it is for sale, but I have more vehicles than I can care for myself, so I sent the picture off to my friend Ken who is looking to buy an older DeSoto.  Who knows what will become of that.

The seat of Lincoln County is Pioche, a town we drove through without stopping.  If I'm to have a photographic record of the Court House, I'll have to return to Pioche.  Lincoln County itself was a late addition to Nevada, formed in 1866, two years after statehood.  In its original configuration, Nevada's eastern border was miles west of what it is today.  Two separate additions were made to the state, taking land from Utah Territory and what would become Arizona.  Lincoln County originally included Las Vegas, as Clark County wasn't formed until 1908.  

Rock Formation

10/27/2014

White Pine County, Nevada

White Pine County lies north of Lincoln, and was the only other county I'd never seen in Nevada.  We crossed into White Pine in the early evening, with the intent of reaching the county seat, Ely, and there spending the night.  Ely, where US 93 crosses US 50, is an unusually large town, with several impressive structures.  We found a small, mom-and-pop motel which suited us just fine, and had a surprisingly mediocre dinner in the old jail.  One building set behind a park was brightly illumined, and I should have taken a picture.  The next morning, the White Pine County Courthouse was not nearly as photogenic.  Ely (and according to Wikipedia it is pronounced EE-lee, not Ee-Ligh) is definitely on my return trip list, and not just because it is the town where Pat Nixon was born.  The climactic scene in one of my favorite movies, Rat Race, was filmed there.  Ely, I'll be back!

  

The Last Post from Vegas

Lake Mead from the Nevada side overlook

After the better part of a week during which we learned more about wireless devices than anyone really needs to know, on Saturday we decided to see some of the countryside around Las Vegas. Originally we had planned on renting a car for the entire week, but when we landed in Vegas, we decided that it was foolish to pay for car rental when the car would just be sitting in the parking lot most of the time. It was a good decision at the time, and I'm happy we made it. However, with Saturday at hand and no transportation easily available, Kevin tried to get a car from Enterprise. Alas, all their Vegas locations close at 2 pm and should we keep the car past 2, we'd have to pay for an extra day, not to mention the problem of where to leave the car when we were scheduled out on an early morning flight. Avis to the rescue. Not only did they have cars available at the Venetian, right next door to us, but they closed at 4 and if we were later than that, well it's simple, just leave the car with the Valet Parking at the Venetian and Avis would retrieve it the next day. Now the big question, did we want a Corvette or a Camaro. Well, neither, actually. Kevin always wants either an SUV or a pickup. Sorry, no such vehicles available. Would we prefer a Corvette or a Camaro? Beggars can't be choosers, or so we're told, so we settled for the Corvette. A big, white, t-top equiped Corvette. Even in Vegas a 'Vette turns heads.

We jumped in the car, er, let me rephrase that. When you're 6'6" and 62 years old, you don't "jump" into a Corvette. I'm not sure what Kevin did, but I very gingerly folded, spindled, and mutilated myself into a size that could fit in the cramped passenger seat. It took a while, believe me. But then we were on the road, or on the Strip anyway. We had breakfast reservations at Planet Hollywood at Caesar's Palace, and all we had to do was get there--two blocks away. I suggested that we take the car to Harrah's and walk to breakfast, but Kevin would have none of that. Not now that he had wheels to play with.

Many of the newer casino/hotels on the Strip are large, but Caesar's Palace takes the cake. I'm not sure just how large it is, but it has at least three separate entrances from the Strip, and it helps to know just where you're going. We didn't. But by following the small, hard to read, signs, we eventually found our way to the Valet Parking where we left the car. Funny thing about Kevin, driving the 'Vette, he decided that he would always take advantage of the Valet Parking. I began singing "Hey, Big Spender." Once in the Forum Shops, we took a wrong turn at the Trevi Fountain and missed Planet Hollywood completely. Retracing our steps, we found our error, moved around the Fountain and saw plainly the PH sign beckoning us to breakfast.

A bit of Arizona landscape on the north/east side of US Highway 93

Back in the car after breakfast, and back to Harrah's for a quick stop to pick up the thirty-eight pounds of printed matter we were going to ship home via UPS. That chore taken care of, we left the strip heading for the most wired spot in the area, Hoover Dam. Now I'm old enough to remember when Henderson was a separate town, south and east of Vegas. Today it is basically a suburb of the larger city, with eight exits of its own from I-215. (Who knows how many exits it has on I-515. ) We drove through Henderson continuing on toward Boulder City, Lake Mead, and the dam that made it all possible. The highway we followed was US 93, the same highway I follow driving from home to the cabin back in Montana. Originally the highway crossed the top of the dam, which resulted in a terrific bottleneck, especially once security checkpoints were set up in the aftermath of 9/11. The new bridge was opened to the public on October 19, 2010, and estimates are that it cuts seventeen miles off the drive between Las Vegas and Phoenix as compared to the old route. The time it saves is incalculable, as 93 was closed to commercial traffic once it was determined that the bridge would make an attractive terrorist target.

Now I love to photograph bridges, and am working on a book of bridges from the state of Oregon, but it's next to impossible to get a good, unobstructed view of this bridge. As I noted above, this is one of the most wired places I know of. The generators at Hoover Dam produce, on average, 4.2 TeraWatt Hours per year. I'll let you do the math, but there are plenty of transmission lines leading away from the dam in just about every direction. I was rather taken aback to learn that 56% of the power generated by this dam placed between the states of Nevada and Arizona goes to communities and companies in Southern California.

Red Rock Canyon, Nevada

After a brief excursion into Arizona (my but that "Vette handles nicely at 90 mph), we turned around heading back into Nevada. Pulling off the highway in Henderson, we found a UPS Store and got rid of the paper we had accumulated at the show. Those brochures and catalogs are all supposed to show up at our Missoula office on Thursday. While there, we asked about good places to eat, and were directed to one of Vegas' newest casino/hotels, South Point. A brief stop at South Point showed us that 1) the prices at Primarily Prime Rib, one of the resort's restaurants, are indeed reasonable; and 2) the restaurant doesn't open until 5 pm. So much for that idea.

Back in the 'Vette, we drove north on I-15, leaving the interstate at Clearfield to drive west toward Red Rock Canyon. Now that I know it exists, I'll return to the canyon sometime when we can spend more daylight time there. As it was, we reached the canyon just in time to lose the light and watch the sun set. Parking in an overlook, we found ourselves parked next to someone with Ham Radio license plates, and we struck up a conversation with him. A 61 year old man currently charged with raising single-handedly two thirteen year old girls, our new acquaintance is a professional landscape photographer intent on catching the colors of the sunset above the canyon walls. Alas it was not to be. The color eluded us for the evening.

Toward the north end of Red Rock Canyon

After grabbing these shots of the canyon's walls, we took the advice of our new friend, and continued south on Nevada 159 past the site of Howard Hughes' ranch and Wild Joe's Mercantile, returning to Vegas on Nevada 160. This put us just north of South Point, so we returned to that casino for dinner. Kevin ordered the Cowboy Cut Prime Rib, which he declared the tenderest prime rib he's ever had, and I chose the Wienerschnitzel, a delicacy one rarely finds on restaurant menus, in my experience.

We turned down the chance to see Paul Revere and the Raiders (My Gawd, he has to be at least seventy), as I noted that we had an early flight to catch the next morning. (I've checked Wikipedia, and it tells me that Paul Revere Dick --his real name-- was born in 1938, so I wasn't far off in my guess.)

Back on the Strip, we turned in the "Vette and headed next door to our room at Harrah's. Kevin called the shuttle company, explaining that we had a 6 am flight, and asking what time we should catch the shuttle. The company insisted we needed to be on the 3:30 bus, so I dutifully set my alarm for 2:45 and Kevin and I went to bed.

Sunday morning, we woke before the alarm went off, showered, dressed, and were downstairs ready to check out in plenty of time. Our shuttle left Harrah's at 3:25, and deposited us at the airport roughly fifteen minutes later. This meant we were there before any of the concessions opened. But at 4, Cinnabon turned on their lights, and we each got a roll and something to drink. By 5:40 we were on our plane, which, thankfully, left on time, returning us to Missoula where Ron, Mike and Norm met us at the airport. After breakfast at Paul's Pancake Parlor, a Missoula tradition, we drove home where I promptly fell asleep in my lounger, all five dogs happily stretched across my supine body.

And the Sun sets slowly in the West