Las Vegas & the Grand Canyon

We’ve just returned from a long weekend in Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon. Las Vegas was incidental – it was the closest airport we could fly to for a reasonable price, but still lies some 280 miles from the big hole in the ground we really came to see. We only had one night in Sin City, as it’s also called, so did a whistle-stop tour of some of the immense casino-hotels that line the Strip, each more absurd or lavish than the next. We ended up having dinner in New York New York, complete with its own Statue of Liberty, Empire State and Central Park, before heading through Camelot-inspired Excalibur to Luxor, a huge black pyramid fronted by a sphinx and concrete obelisk. My first impression was one of fascination, but also distaste: it was all too artificial, too mindlessly hedonistic, too infantile, too vulgar. What were these people thinking of, sitting comatose at slot machines, feeding in an endless stream of quarters, or stumbling around drunk, winding their way between living adverts for plastic surgery on the one hand and the good folk of middle America who’d downed a few too many burgers on the other?

So, I was not really too sorry to leave Vegas behind on Saturday, as we headed out on our long trip to the Grand Canyon. The guide book had described the journey as 300 featureless miles through the desert. This didn’t turn out to be entirely true. While it was certainly a long way, and very sparsely populated, it wasn’t anything like as barren as I’d expected. In fact, there was plenty of vegetation, although the land was pretty useless for anything productive (which might explain why there were ads everywhere selling acres of it for next to nothing). We stopped for lunch at Seligman, a little town in the middle of nowhere on Route 66, at a great diner with a very authentic feel.

Our first night at the Canyon was not very eventful: we had a nice room at a quality but not especially characterful hotel, were unable to get a table at the decent restaurants, so resorted to an acceptable but bland cafeteria. We awoke early next morning, packed up what we needed for the next two days, had a decent breakfast and set off on our big hike down into the depths. We followed the South Kaibab trail, the steeper of the Canyon’s two main paths, which plunges down just short of 5,000 feet over 7 miles. The biggest surprise was how green it was – and how many gorgeous flowers were everywhere, from blossoming cactuses to spindly little blooms growing impossibly out of the red earth.

The descent was tough on the joints, but not overly so. Still, we were glad to reach the suspension bridge over the Colorado River, which would take us to our campsite. The latter turned out to be beside a rushing creek, a tributary of the Colorado, in its own miniature version of the Canyon. We pitched the tent and headed off to the beach to take some rest and soak up the rays. No chance of swimming in it, though – it was mighty cold and alarmingly fast-moving.

After a very makeshift dinner (we had to carry all our own food), we went to a ranger talk just as it was growing dark. This was followed by a highly amusing scorpion hunt. The little beasties fluoresce when ultra-violet light is shone upon them, and of course, the ranger had a special torch. They were everywhere! On the way back to the tent, whilst trying to avoid scorpions, we spotted a ringtail dart across the path, a squirrel-cum-skunk with a stripy tail and one of the more agreeable animals we’d heard about during the talk.

It wasn’t as cold as I’d feared, going to “bed”, but when I awoke at around 5 a.m., it was pretty chilly. I dozed for a bit longer, then we got up, breakfasted and decamped. It was important to make an early start, so that the hard part of the ascent wouldn’t be in the heat of the day, or so we thought! The first part of the hike back up along the Bright Angel Trail – supposedly less steep than the South Kaibab, but longer at around 9 miles – followed the Colorado River past yet more lovely plants and even sand dunes.

The ascent to Indian Garden, half way in distance, didn’t seem too bad, in spite of the heavy backpacks, and I felt some rather unjustified elation at having broken the back of it, without it having broken my back! We had a snack and watched those not hard enough to hike head down on their guided mule tour, while a friendly lizard amused us doing press-ups and the pesky squirrels tried to steal our food. Little did I know that the worst was to come: Indian Garden was, in reality, perhaps only a third of the way up in terms of elevation, and it was followed by several long, hard sets of switchbacks in the blazing heat, ascending through the different geologic layers. We had lunch a mile and a half from the top, but that last push was tough, with screaming calf muscles and burning shoulders. Still, we got lots of respect from the day-hikers and sightseers near the top, who were full of admiration for our feat. As I reached the brink of the South Rim, I finished the last drop of my three litres of water. Jon had downed four, and we’d had another “emergency” litre to hand just in case.

It was truly delicious to board the shuttle bus and get ourselves clean back at the hotel (the same one we’d stayed at before), then to head out and actually strike lucky getting a table at the Arizona Room at Bright Angel Lodge. There was a short wait, but we spent it watching the light fade over the amazing folds of the Canyon. An elderly couple from Las Vegas engaged us in conversation. Within a couple of minutes, they’d told us they didn’t like San Francisco, “because everyone’s on welfare” (!) and justified it with the explanation that they were Republicans! Not a lot you can say to that, really.

The next morning, we took the shuttle bus to some more viewpoints along the South Rim and took our leave of the awe-inspiring views. It was then back on the road for the return trek to Vegas. We’d liked the diner in Seligman so much, that we decided to stop there again, and were amused to find tumbleweed scuttling across the road ahead en masse as we left the freeway – so typical of middle-of-nowhere, just-like-the-movies America!

We decided to stop at the Hoover Dam briefly, although we didn’t get a really good look. Exiting the car was like entering a fan oven – it was nearly 100 degrees and a strong desert wind was blowing. On the one side, the dam’s not very exciting, but on the other it plunges to unfathomable depths (I didn’t manage to see the bottom from the road).

We arrived in Vegas with a good forty minutes or so to spare, so decided to take a look at another casino, namely the Bellagio (which the San Francisco-hating Republicans had recommended, amusingly enough). Expecting it to be murder to park, we were surprised and delighted that it had a free parking lot… but of course – they want to make it easy to take your money off you! Entering the Bellagio was like slipping into an oasis – its main features are a cool, beautifully cultivated atrium, a stupendous glass ceiling and other works of art bedecking its classy walls. Of course, it still had the slot machine hell, but I caught a glimpse of what Vegas could be like, at its best. To be honest, I’m still on the fence about the place, as I told my work colleagues today, as they waited with almost bated breath to hear me cast judgement. It’s seedy, tacky, disgustingly indulgent, literally built on bad habits, but at the same time fun, deliciously opulent and perhaps one of the most truly democratic places in the world - where else would you get the super-wealthy rubbing shoulders with the American equivalent of chavs, where no one looks down on you because all that rules is the mighty dollar and they’re happy to take your money off you, whoever you are?

The return flight was on time and super efficient, just like the outward one (why UK airports can’t operate like this, I don’t know). And, as ever, in spite of it being an epic trip, I was happy to return to my beloved San Franciso and even to head to work (well, almost!). It can’t be that bad when you get to commute by cable car!

Photos are available on the Fotki site: http://public.fotki.com/EllenHardwick/las-vegas--the-gran/ (password: moocow)