Fear and Loathing in Wendover

Wendover, Nevada - 30 April, 2006

We drive 300 miles north in Nevada though some of the most lonely country in America. Wendover is a tiny town on the Nevada/Utah border on the edge of the Great Salt Lake.

My brother works here as a dealer. He used to be a pit boss peering down though security cameras at the action. He is sensitive, like me, and I imagine he tired of breaking fingers and burying dishonest dealers in the desert.

Mrs Phred and I are immediately pulled over by a Wendover policeman who informs us that Nevada has a helmet law. He calls in my license and registration and lets me go with a warning. He seems faintly amused by meeting grandpa and grandma on a cycle with Florida plates.

My brother works the graveyard shift, so I get up at 4 AM and wander though all the casinos looking for him. A Nevada casino at this time of day is populated by very strange people. You have to study the vacant stare of the slot users with neon glare reflecting from their faces. All the slots take bills now, but they have programmed in the sound of coins dropping.

Most customers here are Mormons from Utah who drive 110 miles over the salt lake to play. We go to the Bonneville Salt Flats in the afternoon and visit the old B-29 base where Paul Tibbits trained with the Enola Gay. There is an abandoned rail line called the Tokyo Trolley where they ran mock-ups of tanks and trucks for target practice.

Our Special Today

Lake Mead, Nevada - 29 April, 2006

We've spent the last week on the shores of Lake Mead in the Nevada desert 30 miles southeast of Las Vegas.

An evening in Vegas is surreal. The sidewalks are lined with hustlers who hand out pictures of scantily-clad women offering $35 'specials', apparently 'massages'.

There is the Eiffel tower, live volcanoes, Venetian gondolas and other wonders.

I learn to play doubles in tennis and discover that there is an intact B-29 on the bottom of Lake Mead. We rent a powerboat and drive it twelve miles up the Colorado river to the foot of the Hoover dam. The scenery along the river includes mountain goats.

The next door neighbour is an iron worker named Clay who drives in to Vegas every day to work on a new 82-story casino. He appears to possibly be a meth freak and talks rapidly, changing the subject frequently. He says that his casino will be the tallest building west of the Mississippi. He walks on the high steel girders.

On the Rim

Grand Canyon, Arizona – 21 April 2006

Our campground here on the South Rim is old and spacious, full of mature pines. Yesterday we walked the Rim Trail. This trail follows the edge of the canyon for nearly twenty miles. You can peer down over a mile and 1.8 billion years into the past though layers of multi-hued sedimentary rock formed in ancient ocean beds.

It's an easy walk, nearly level. We covered about eight miles along the rim, away from the crowds. In places the trail is a ledge, three feet wide, covered in loose rocks. Your first bounce, if you lost your footing, would be 500 feet below. A mountain goat and her offspring brushed past me and bounded down the cliff. I wasn't ready for the close encounter, but took a few long-range photos.

There are places here where tour buses disgorge passengers speaking many languages. These popular spots on the rim are not my favorite places. The average stay in the park is four hours. Many get off the bus, walk through the crowds to the rim, and snap some pictures and leave.

Today we took a more ambitious hike down the South Kaibab Trail. The trail descends steeply from 'Ooh Aah' point, dropping 800 feet in 1.8 miles. There are several trails like this here in the park. The trail eventually leads to the Colorado River over a mile below. We passed several mule trains hauling campers to the top who had spent the night camped on the river below. I took a paperback called Skeleton Man by Tony Hillerman to read before starting back. Strangely, it was set in the Grand Canyon.

The North Rim, fifteen miles distant, is much less popular because it is harder to get there. It's an additional 250 mile drive. We talked to a camper last night who walked the 28 miles from the North Rim, over the Phantom Ranch suspension bridge on the Colorado River and up the 'Bright Angel' trail to the South Rim. He did the hike in three days.

Saguaro by Moonlight

Saguaro National Park (East) – 15 April, 2006

We are camped in saguaro cactus country in the vast Sonoran Desert, about 20 miles west of Tucson. The saguaros are giants, reaching 30 or 40 feet over their 200-year lifespan.

This area has a lot to see. The Davis-Montham air base is in Tucson. The Air Force mothballs obsolete airplanes there because of the desert climate. The Pima Air Museum is next to the airbase. Pima is the largest museum of its type in the world. We plan to hit it on the way out in the morning.

Here are a few Saguaro National Park pictures. There are some interesting saguaro moonlight silhouettes and also confused coyote hunting in a parking lot.

Kitt Peak Observatory is the largest collection of optical, infra-red, radio and solar telescopes in the world. It's in the dry desert air on a 7,000 foot peak 50 miles from light sources. One scope is four meters in diameter, but there are larger ones elsewhere. We took a tour and snapped a few Kitt Peak pictures.

The Desert Museum, just south of the park, is worth a visit. There are desert animals, minerals and flora on display. We arrived early and were lucky to watch the rattlesnakes swallowing white mice.

Can You Get Bird Flu From Tacos?

Nogales, Mexico – 12 April, 2006

We stop at the Nogales, Arizona visitor center to get information about entering Nogales, Mexico. I push the button to restart the engine and the motorcycle is dead. The tools and battery are under the seat and it takes a 10mm wrench to remove the seat. They don't include kick-starters on these things anymore. I push-start the bike and the engine fires easily.

We drive to the border and park and walk over the border though a turnstile. There in no line and no official greeters going in. However, there is a line of people extending ten blocks waiting in the hot Mexican sun to cross back to the US. We suspect we've made a mistake.

People come here for prescription drugs and inexpensive medical and dental work. The lady at the visitor center tells us her aunt had all her teeth pulled and a complete set of replacement implants done for $2,000. That would probably run $30,000 across the border. The streets are packed with small shops offering belts, jewelry, boots, motorcycle saddlebags and other objects. Every shopkeeper implores us to enter.

Agents hand out cards for surgical face lifts. I need one, but we're on a schedule.
I buy a hand-crafted belt adorned with hand-painted panthers, sunrises, eagles and rattlesnakes and we order chicken tacos for lunch. Mrs Phred worries about getting bird flu from the chicken. I tell her not to worry because bird flu is eliminated if the flesh is well cooked. She shows me that it's pink. I eat all three of mine and one of hers.

We wait in line an hour to re-cross the border and Mrs Phred wonders about bird flu symptoms and says her legs feel weak and she has shortness of breath. A Mexican lady with four children in tow touches Mrs Phred's bicep and admires her muscle tone. One man gets pulled out of line for additional processing in a back room, but they average about three seconds for interviewing each person crossing on foot.

Back in the US, I push-start the cycle again and we drive to our campsite. Back at the Lake Patagonia State Park camp, I put a voltmeter on the battery and it tests right at 12.4 volts. I tighten the connections on the battery and the engine starts right up. I put the little tool kit back in the handlebar saddlebags instead of under the seat.