Day 16

I awake the next morning, Father’s Day, to Ben zipping up his coat and leaving the RV for an early morning walk. He loves the canyon, and I think he wants to take in as much of it as he can. I stay in bed for a little while longer, and then I shower, make breakfast for the boys, and get ready to see the canyon in full sunlight.

We take the bus to the El Torvah Hotel, which is vintage and classic and adorned with elk and deer heads and antler chandeliers. The hotel sits nearly on the rim of the canyon, so the upstairs balcony porch has the most amazing view in the United States of America. Can you imagine? We decide to walk along the rim for a while and each of us stares out and down, constantly. The enormity of the canyon is overwhelming and it is a different place every minute of every day of every year because of light and cloud coverage.
From the southern rim where we stand, I look across to the northern rim which is 10-30 miles across depending on where one stands, and the length of the canyon is 277 miles! One cannot help but be humbled in the ancient presence when one considers that the canyon existed before dinosaurs. 250 million years of erosion have caused the south rim to be lower than the north by 1000 feet. The gargantuan gorge is green, red, yellow, orange, gray, brown, tan, puce, pink, and so many other shades. We look over to see if we can see Phantom Ranch, which sits at the bottom, the suspension bridge which spans the Colorado River and Bright Angel Creek. They are WAY down there, believe me. I keep a close eye on the boys because there are MANY places where we can simply fall off into the canyon and the thought is nightmarish. Ben wants to hike in; I don’t. I go anyway. Bright Angel Trail is on average 4 feet wide and in some places, not even that much.
We make our way into the canyon and I keep thinking, I have to come back up this thing!
Those who are emerging are sweaty and out of breath and relieved they are at the top. Oh no…that is going to be me!

Friends, going down is the easy part! As we descend, we look over the side and at times, chills go up and down my spine. The trail is almost sandy in consistency, and in places, the smell of mule manure is horrible. In fact, there is so much of it and it is so common that as it bakes in the sun and gets stampeded by tourists, it turns back into grass that the mules have eaten and so sometimes we walk through grass piles! We stop often for drinks of water we have brought, and I notice that a herd of mules is on its way to the top. The signs warn us that we must listen to the mule wrangler for directions on what we are to do when they pass us, and we find a cool, shaded overhang to sit under and wait for the tired, sweaty mules to pass us. I have to tell you that every fiber of my being is against what they do to those beasts of burden. What an existence! Walking up a steep canyon with tourists on your back. I find it repulsive and revolting. The mules walk dangerously close to the edge, and, at times, friends, they only have three feet on the trail! The head wrangler also turns them sideways on the trail for a brief rest, and they continue on their weary, repetitive way. What a Sisyphusian existence. It angers me. We continue, and I tell the boys to call their pop from the Grand Canyon to wish him a Happy Father’s Day. They are excited to tell him where they are calling from, and I giggle thinking about the fact that we have cell phone service in the Canyon. Suddenly, we hear the thrump, thrump, thrump of a helicopter.

“Where is it?” Ben asks. “It must be a rescue of sorts because the Grand Canyon is a no fly zone.”

We look and look and suddenly we see the helicopter below us, and it might as well be a mosquito hovering in the air. It has landed at least a half mile below us and away from us and we need binoculars to see it. Rangers run down the trail past us, carrying water in both hands, and all the tourists are rubbernecking to see what is occurring. The boys are fighting over the binoculars, and I cannot believe we are seeing a canyon rescue. We found out later from a ranger that a man fell, bumped his head, seemed disoriented, and needed to be lifted to Flagstaff Hospital. The helicopter was required to land in a very narrow part of the canyon, and she explained that 6-10 people die in the canyon every year. We are amazed by this, but we could definitely see how it happens.

We descend further and in some areas, the trail is very steep and the powdery sand causes us to slip at times, lose footing, and have adrenaline shoot through our systems. I am really starting to complain at this point because I am worried about Ethan climbing back out and I can already hear him asking to be carried, which none of us will be able to do. Hikers who are on their way out ask us how far until the top and I tell them, one hour or so. They moan and I am dreading the return trip. The canyon, though, is just lovely and primitive and unforgiving. The boys complain that we have gone far enough and Ben decides that we should turn around and head for the top.

Oh my God! What a hike. Strenuous does not even begin to describe the walk out of the canyon. I am out of breath and sweating, and my legs are beginning to burn. I am definitely getting one of those t-shirts that brags that I have walked in the canyon. On the way out, the boys whine and people ask us if they should go further. The boys tell them no and Ben advises some girls to turn around. They are in flipflops with a half a bottle of water! What?????? No wonder people die.

Finally we are at the rim, and after we get drinks and rest, we head to a 4 o’clock program for kids about the Raven, which is one of the popular bird breeds that live at the park. The ranger, Juliet, is very nice and sets up a huge memory board game on the ground. Every single clue which has a match is about the Raven, and Bennie and Ethan are first to play. Eventually, more and more kids gather, and everyone joins in. Eventually this boy joins and he is every teachers worst nightmare in the classroom setting. He constantly interrupts, he ruins each of the Ranger’s set ups, and he chimes in to tell an “off topic” story. He continually does so, and some of the mother’s start raising their eyebrows and looking at each other. Somewhere in America there is a happy teacher who doesn’t have to deal with this kid for a few months. I am positive they talk about him in the faculty room. Every time the kid interrupts, Bennie looks disgusted (like I would have as a child and I think that he is probably going to be a teacher like me) and looks over at me a few times. Eventually, they play an interactive game about Ravens and one little girl gets to dress up as a Raven as well. What a pleasant, benign, educational way to spend an hour in the park.

We make our way back to the camper to relax for a while, and unwind before our sunset view of the canyon. We are determined not to miss it tonight.

Later, we begin our trek to the bus station to see the canyon as the sun sets on it. Sunset will be at 7:46, 10:46 your time at home, and we are afraid, again, that we may miss it. As we wait for the bus, two little Australian girls, Bennie and Ethan’s age, try to describe S’mores to their mother who has never heard of them.

Now, imagine your best Australian accent: “They are like a chocolate biscuit, mum, smothered in creamy marshmallow but absolutely smashed between two biscuits.”

Aussy Mom says, “S’mores?”

So I ask her if she knows what a Graham cracker is and she says, “Sure.” Then I describe
S’mores and why we call them that.

“Clever, ay?” she says and we begin a nice conversation.

Turns out we are all going to the same point for sunset, so we pal around together. Her husband, Tony, is a dentist, and she is a “primary” teacher. We talk education and the price of college in the US vs. Aus. and they cannot believe how much it costs since their higher ed is funded by their gov’t. We talk politics, Obama, Australia, Education, elementary school and, wait until you hear this, the fact that all Australians are paid overtime when they are on vacation. They call it “loading.”

As we make our way to the point, I am struck by the intensity of the colors of the rocks as the sun seems parallel to them. Striking, life-changing, gorgeous beauty that exists only here. What an adventure we have all been on. What an absolute privilege to be standing on the edge of one of the wonders of the world. The reds, oranges, and pinks are so deep and so intense that I am transfixed on them and as the sun lowers, the sky turns light blue, pink, orange with a purplish glow.

It is at this very moment that Ben remembers the “Legend of the Sky” and tells it to me, the kids, and the Aussies. The legend goes that during the evening, as the sunsets, the colors LEAVE the canyon with the sun and go to all directions of the sky, and decide to return in the morning again. What a beautiful story to end a beautiful day because as he tells this to us, the canyon seems to fall into a slumber of gray, brown, and black while, above us, the pinks, oranges, reds, and purples rise into the heavens.

I smile.

We chatter happily all the way back to the campsite with our new friends, part in the darkness, and retreat to our RV’s for a late dinner.

Some days are perfect and they are few and rare. This is such a day.

Day 15

Day 15

The tiny bugs that live next to the Colorado River make me insane through the night. At one point, we thought there were ashes flying through the air, but it was these little annoying gnats that fly all around us. I should not complain because our trip and the lands we have visited have been mostly bug free.

We have a very long day of driving ahead as we head to our last huge landmark: the Grand Canyon. We have saved the best for last, and I know even though the trip will be an arduous one, it will be well worth it when I set my eyes on the vastness of the House of Stone and Light.

As we pull out of our KOA, I am struck by the party boats, jet skis, and “yeehaw” attitude of the people around me as they lower their crafts into the Colorado for a day of fun on the bluish-green river. I would rather be on the river today than where I know we are going…the unforgiving Arizona desert.

We start out with a trip to a Flying J Travel Center for gas and snacks, and it is still humorous to me that I am reading road signs for Phoenix or Los Angeles or San Diego. The traffic is hectic, and we head out on the steaming macadam road.

As we get further and further into the desert, we finally see the things I have been looking for: Sageuro Cactus, you know, the classic cactus you imagine when you imagine the desert. They are everywhere, waving their opposing limbs at us, and sharply getting our attention. I am taken with them, and I snap many pictures. I want to stop on the side of the road and pose the boys in front of one, but it is so wretchedly and hellishly hot outside that Ben does not want to do it. I wish I could say the desert feels beautiful to me today, but I cannot. The only word that comes to mind for the part of the desert we drive through is apoctalyptic, and I look at the gas gauge, even though we just got gas, to make sure we have enough. Friends, the poverty around us is sad and unspeakable. We pass trailers that look abandoned but they are not, and broken down, torn apart cars are piled in the backyards. From time to time, we come across a small grocery store that is closed or a bar and grill that is inhabited by one person. This part of the desert is also home to closed down motels that promise air conditioning and a pool. Small, dark children play in these areas as their mothers sit on partly shaded concrete steps watching. We don’t want to break down here or have another tire blow out; that is for sure. The temperature is 99 degrees and we determine we should withstand it and cool ourselves with the road wind since I don’t want Ben using the air conditioning while towing the behemoth behind us. Hours go by as do hundreds and hundreds of eight foot cactus and tumbleweed and prickly pear. The scenery, while so different from what we are used to, is eerie and desolate. Up ahead, however, we see great, grand mountains, and I wonder if we will go around them or through them or up in them. I decide to call ahead to the Grand Canyon National Park campground to make reservations for the night. I am fortunate to obtain two nights at Trailer Village right in Grand Canyon National Park with full hook ups and cable tv. Awesome. And very lucky. I am surprised to get a site.


My question about the mountains is soon answered as we begin a gradual climb up a very steep mountain range that is going to require us to switchback very often. Ben prepares for the taxing climb, and luckily, in places, a passing lane is available to allow the frustrated drivers behind us to pass by with great speed. As we climb off the desert floor and up out of the 99 degree climate, the temperature immediately begins to drop.
We are headed for Prescott, Arizona, a beautiful Americana, Western town and the ride there is equally magnificent. I watch out my window as I rise above the desert and the world seems to fall beneath me. In moments like this I think how fortunate I am to be having these sensations and experiences. So many people never see the desert descend behind them or rise to the elevation of 10,000 feet above sea level like I did in the Big Horn Mountains in Wyoming (just before the cowboy…if you are following along.) In no time at all, both of the boys become car sick as Ben navigates the very windy, curvy roads and predicts the turns with his steering wheel. Ethan looks green and has his eyes closed as he whines about his belly. Bennie tells me that if we don’t stop soon, he will hurl! I tell them to watch the road and it will help, but the bends seem to be neverending. When we reach the top, we are rewarded with very pleasant temperatures of 75 and green fields and lush trees. Cows and horses leisurely graze in their pastures and a sign tells us we are where “the desert breeze meets the mountain air” and nothing could be truer. The rock formations in the little town are gray granite and remind me of the formations in Black Hills in South Dakota when we visited there. When was that? It feels like months ago.

Prescott is a gorgeous place that is hosting a Rodeo and a huge arts and crafts festival. I am glued to the courthouse square as I see people, almost all wearing cowboy hats, eating funnel cake, French fries, buying colorful hula hoops, and listening to western music. The town center has the classic one story buildings with flat fronts and flat roofs. I want to stop at the festival, but I can just imagine Ben’s face as he tries to figure out where to park the “rig” behind us! I laugh to myself and don’t make the request. I know him TOO well. Right now, we are on a Walmart mission. We need some serious supplies before heading to the Grand Canyon which is still at least two hours in front of us.

The GPS tells us in her polite British accent that there is a Walmart ahead, but the Limey is wrong! I have to settle for Target which will do in a pinch. We shop after Ethan wakes up, and Bennie checks out the 4.00 DVD’s. He has taken a liking to Tom Hanks, so he is in search of old Tom Hanks’ movies like Splash. I want to find BIG but it is not there. We get our groceries and head for “the hills” of Arizona.

I am continually amazed with Ben’s knowledge of Geology and Geography. He talks about his last trip to the Canyon in 1995 and discussions how we will be climbing to an enormous plateau and how the environment, wildlife, and plant life will change as we begin to approach the canyon. I am imagining desert and more desert, but I am wrong, and Ben explains that we will be surrounded by pines and wilderness and he is exactly right. We finally reach a point where the horizon seems flat and there are no mountains ahead of us. Ben explains to the kids that we will be on a “subCanadian climate zone plateau” of sorts and that the weather will be pleasant and cool. As we finally approach the Grand Canyon National Park sign, I am very tired but anxious to see the canyon. I know it is enormous and I know it is spectacular, but I really have no idea what I am in for. Ben is super excited about being here again after 15 years and he wants so badly to share it with the kids. Bennie takes a picture of the US Ranger at the welcome station and we are in.

Did you know that there are hotels and lodges on the rim? I didn’t. One of the oldest hotels is the El Tovar and presidents have stayed there. We take our time navigating the different turns to find our campground, Trailer Village, which is inside the national park and I catch a very brief glimpse of the canyon.

OH MY GOD!

The sun is low and Ben wants to see the sunset, but we have to register and park and semi set up to do so. At different points along the rim, I am able to see the canyon as the sun descends and the colors ricochet and split into a spectrum of beauty. We hurry through our chores, and run to the bus station at our campground. Grand Canyon National Park runs natural gas run buses every 15 minutes to all of the scenic overlooks and lodges and shops. They are super convenient and easy to use. We hop on our bus and head to Yavapai Point to try to catch the sunset, but we know that we are already too late. By the time we reach the edge of the rim, the sun is down and the canyon has gone dark gray, but it is wonderful nonetheless. Vast and unfathomable are the two words I think of when I look across the part of the canyon we can see. It is deep and the multi-layers make it difficult to discern where rocks begin and end. As I stand at the scenic point, I am left speechless and I cannot take my eyes away from the canyon. I am really here.
Again, it feels surreal.

At this point, I must tell you that I am utterly exhausted. The journey and fast paced moving across the country is taking its toll on me. All I can think about is lying down on the couch in the RV or even hitting my soft bed. I know everyone is hungry, so Ben says he will grill hotdogs for the boys and himself. I take two bites and I am asleep.

Day 14

As we pack up to leave Orange, CA, Ethan takes a swim with his dad, and I make beds and organize the RV. I call Michelle to make plans to meet up with her in Palm Springs, CA at the Cimmaron Resort where her parents are staying. Turns out that Palm Springs is very much on our eastward way, and we will arrive there at the same time Michelle does. As you know, the boys have been putting a sticker on the side of our RV for each state we travel in, and they have saved the California sticker for Michelle to place on the map. They are looking forward to seeing her and I am, too. I miss her already and I will miss our lunches during the work week. The drive away from the LA area is as hectic as ever and we make our way to the desert which is baking. The ride is two and a half hours long, and we arrive to the middle of the steaming desert to a golf resort. We meet Michelle and visit with her and her parents. Her children are so sun burnt from visiting beaches with their dad, that they are actually sick. I suppose it will take them sometime to adjust to the California sun and remember that they are not in the northeast anymore. Michelle promised Ethan they would swim together in sunny CA, so he changes and Michelle takes him to the pool. He talks Michelle’s face off and she patiently listens, and I know that when we have to leave in a few hours, he will be sad again to say goodbye to the Jordans. Ben and I join them in the pool under the scorching desert sun and Bennie and Matt play Frisbee behind the condo. We meet some very funny, friendly people from Seattle, Washington, and when they find out about our journey, they start singing, “Holiday Road” from Vacation. Yes, we are a cliché! We laugh and talk with them. After a long, refreshing soak, we exit the pool. We have to leave our flipflops at the steps of the pool because we cannot bear to put our barefeet on the concrete that surrounds the pool because we will burn the first layer of our skin from our feet! Seattle and his sister kid us that we should stay and not try to reach Arizona this evening, but we persevere anyway. I hate saying goodbye to Michelle, but we will see her in July when she returns for work and the closing of her house. We almost turned her into a Democrat during the duration of our friendship and we may be able to finish off the job this summer! I will visit her again in California when she can really show me the sights! Ethan hugs her hard and doesn’t talk for sometime after we leave the resort and we are off to Blythe, California and a KOA that sits on the Colorado River, just a few feet from the Arizona State Line.

This deserted part of California, I have to report, is not very appealing. It is hot, rough, dead terrain that is broiling in the sun. We pass massive wind farms and trucks do their best to derail us, but we drive on. The desert is a lonely, abandoned place in the dark, and we pass several groups of migrant workers towing vehicles and moving on to their next destination. Huge federal or state penitentiaries loom off in the distance, and I miss home.

Off in the distance, we see the lights of Blythe, and we are all relieved to find our KOA and exit the truck. A very, very friendly campground owner tells us we cn stay in the pool as long as we want, and I change Bennie and Ethan into their trunks right in the RV in front of the office and take them to the pool, leaving Ben to set up the camper by himself. He definitely appreciates me diverting the kids, and the kids need exercise and to blow off steam. The pool is pleasant and the warm desert air makes sitting at the pool so refreshing and relaxing. I chat an inebriated couple at the hot tub who asks lots of questions about New York City. Since it is difficult to carry on a conversation with a slurring woman, we decide to call it a night and head back to our RV.

Tomorrow we make our way to the Grand Canyon which will require an enormous, taxing drive through the Arizona desert.

Day 13

Hollywood Today!

We rise fairly early and get ready for our train commute to LA. Turns out that the train station is in the same huge parking lot as the Angels stadium in Anaheim, so we take a few pics for Pop. The train station is clean and organized, and we arrive just in the nick of time to board Amtrak to LA. We purchase round trip tickets for 72.00 (a bargain compared to driving in and listening to Ben) and we have two minutes to board. The Amtrak conductor is friendly and helpful and finds a four seater for us on the second floor of the train. The boys love a train ride (and so do I) and as we chug into LA, I remember the many train rides we took with Bennie when he was gaga for trains and Thomas. I cannot tell you how much he adored anything having to do with trains. As we pleasantly fly along the rails, I also marvel at the many train systems my kids have been on. They have ridden the NYC subway, the Washington, DC metro, the Southern Florida TriRail, the Miami El, and now the trains to LA. Lucky Kiddos.

I can tell we are getting closer to the city because our view is filled with graffiti and gang symbols. In so many places, it has been painted over only to be re-graffitied again. The conductor checks on the kids and reminds them to keep an eye on their parents and our bad behavior. Ethan is squealing with delight and decides that he wants many kisses from me as we move along.

Finally, Union Station, which is a gorgeous retro-station that is painted with beautiful murals and occupied by newsstands and hotdog vendors. The boys grab a hotdog and Ben and I read the metro maps so we know where we are going. Turns out that Hollywood/Highland, our destination, is 8 stops which will take a bit of time. I am growing excited and the boys love the subway. As far as underground trains go, the LA Metro is cleaner than NYC but not nearly as nice as D.C.’s metro, which is the Cadillac of subways in my opinion. We are immediately surrounded by diversity and I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE that my boys are exposed to diverse peoples when we travel. I truly hope that it will cutdown on some of the narrowmindedness that they hear at home. The woman across from me is reading a book about the controversy over Muslims wearing headscarves in France and the Hispanic couple in front of me, she is pregnant, hug and kiss until a Middle-Eastern looking gentleman offers his seat to her. Two loud, spirited, and energetic young African-American girls board, and a Japanese-
American man who is elderly sports a World War II Veteran Hat. Ethan does not even notice the cultural diversity around him…he is too busy hanging on to the silver bar because there are no seats available. Bennie continually counts the stops that are left, and watches a group of teenagers try to pry the subway car open to scare each other. He looks at me as if to say, “They are going to get hurt.”

Our stop, Hollywood/Highland, is announced, and we disembark the train and head for the stairs. We climb and climb and climb and climb, and one of the girls in front of us complains that we must have been riding one inch above hell. I laugh out loud and she turns and smiles at me. I can finally see blue sky as we ascend the final staircase, and we are up and out onto the famed Hollywood Boulevard and we are immediately bombarded by out of work actors who are dressed as famous movie characters. They will take pics with you or your kids and then they ask for money. The dark street and crowded sidewalks are so different from the rest of our journey so far, but I do love the city so much, and I immediately smile. Where is the Chinese theater? Just a few paces away, I begin to see the famed Hollywood Walk of Fame and Bennie poses by George Lopez’s star! We walk and check out some shops until we are immediately in front of Grauman’s Chinse Theater, and I begin to take in all of the handprints and names. Shirley Temple, the cast from Star Trek, Tom Hanks, Ron Howard, Jack Nicholson, Will Smith, Michael and Kirk Douglas, Paul Newman and Joanna Woodward, Henry Fonda, Jack Lemmon and Walter Mattheau, Mel Gibson, Richard Gere, and many more. Most are addressed to Sid Grauman, thanking him. Bennie puts his feet and hands in Will Smith’s, whom he loves, and marvels at how big Will Smith’s feet are (they really, really are). I am enjoying myself, looking across the street at the famous El Capitan theater and the Roosevelt. Where is that Hollywood sign? I read that the best view is from Beachwood Street, so I am determined to find that but Ben finds a great view on a bridge between two levels of a shopping mall connected to the Chinese Theater. We walk through the court of the outdoor mall and the boys eye up souvenirs. I can see the Hollywood sign off in the hills and it is a completely surreal experience. I feel like I am looking at it on television and not in person and Ben takes pics for me and of me in front of the sign. “Are you happy?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say.

Down in the center court of the mall is a fountain of sorts, with water that shoots up out of holes in the ground. Ethan begins running through the water shots but I know it is only a matter of time until he is drenched. I buy some Hollywood souvenirs and when I return to Ben and the boys, Ethan is completely waterlogged. That will be comfortable on the ride home in the trains. He is wet and happy. I don’t even get upset.

We board the subway and head back to Union Station. We plan that when we return to Anaheim, I will stay at the campground and swim with Ethan while Ben and Bennie tour the Queen Mary in Long Beach. I call over to the Queen and find out that the tour at night is free and anyone can board and walk around the floating hotel, so Ben is thrilled about the freebie.

When we get to Union Station, we realize we have read the train schedule incorrectly so we are an hour early! Oh brother, what to do now? We find a cafeteria in the Transportation authority and I get the boys some pizza and drinks and we wait for our train. Finally the time arrives but we cannot find our track because someone has played a practical joke by writing Hi Bob on the message board instead of our destination. After some confusion, we realize we are track 9, board, and we lazily make our way back to Anaheim and the pool.

As I sit poolside with Ethan and Ben and Bennie tour the Queen Mary, I am so happy to chill and just relax and Ethan is at his happiest when he is in the water. I do some laundry, think about our plans for the next day, and sit in the wonderful hot tub.

Tomorrow, we will meet Michelle in Palm Springs, a resort in the desert, say goodbye, and head toward the Grand Canyon in Arizona.

Day 12

Our check out time at our lovely resort is 12:00, so we decide that we are going to breakdown, pack up and go out for breakfast. The boys love IHOP, which Bennie called the Intentional House of Pancakes before he could read well, so we decide to find an IHOP in order to get them some chocolate chip pancakes. This is the first breakfast we have eaten outside of the RV on our trip! IHOP has wireless, so Ben does some pic uploads and as the boys devour chocolate chip pancakes we discuss our plans for California, specifically the LA area, which is 275 miles away straight through the Mojave Desert and Death Valley. The heat is bearable in Vegas, but I know it is going to get hot as we climb out of Vegas and into the desert.

Nevada, near the border of California, is brown and cacti-filled and hot, hot, hot. We are all very excited about crossing over into California for many reasons; however, somehow we miss the California Welcome Sign because it is probably lost among last chance casino signs right along the border. We hope to get a picture of it another time. As we enter the Mojave desert, we are immediatly struck by the penetrating sun and heat. I tell the kids where we are, but they are not overly impressed at all, but both of them have taken their t-shirts off because it is so hot in the car, and we are climbing some mountains and Ben cannot stress the engine with air conditioning.

Up ahead we see a California Inspection Station that we ar required to stop at. We pull in, and the state inspector tells us that since we are from Pennsylvania, we had to be checked for Gypsy Moths. He asks us if we know what they are.

“Sure,” we say.

He crawls underneath our vehicles to check for the webbing that they live in, and he also enters our RV to inspect our fridge for produce and plants. This just takes a few minutes. I remember reading about this somewhere…could it have been in The Grapes of Wrath. Either way, is this California or the Czech Border in 1975?

We pull away and head toward the Cajon Pass, which we have been warned about. The crosswinds are very strong and the traffic is bad. We are looking forward to Hollywood, LA, Long Beach, the Queen Mary, Michelle, Palm Springs, and the Pacific.

Nothing, my friends, nothing, prepares you for the LA Freeway system. Nothing. Not driving in Manhatten. Not driving down the West Palm Freeway on your way to Fort Lauderdale. Not even the aggressive, cockiness of Bostonians in Mass. NOTHING. Eventually we enter a 7 lane (14 combined) freeway and as we whip and weave our way through and others do the same, we put our lives in the hands of Californians! And Ben, of course. He is tense and stressed and irritated and a little bit frightened (don’t tell him I said so). The traffic is fierce and unforgiving, and one slip up and we will crash into someone who is too close or cutting in front of us. Driving a 30 foot trailer on the freeway is not Ben’s idea of a vacation, so I work hard at keeping the kids quiet and calm. Good luck to me, huh?

Finally, after dozens of potential accidents, we arrive to our destination:
Golden Shore RV Resort in Long Beach. Guess what?

THEY HAVE NO OPENINGS!

“Why didn’t you call ahead?” you are all asking.

I know, I know, people. See, I always call ahead. Each campground says, “We have openings…come on in.”

The one time I don’t call ahead? See what happens.

Ben is super agitated and tired, and he was finally feeling relief from the drive as we pulled into Golden Shore RV. No luck.

The nice man at the campground gives me phone numbers for other places to stay and highly recommends Orange RV Park in Orange/Anaheim, CA but it is a half hour away and guess what we will have to take? Yes. If you just said “the freeway,” you are correct. Ben is really still stressed, but he has a drink and something to eat, and heads once more onto the freeway. The GPS gets us lost a few times, Ben is really angry, and the three of us are just quiet and hopeful. I cheer him up by suggesting we go to see the Queen Mary, which is permanently docked only a mile away in Long Beach. The Queen Mary is important to Ben and one of the reasons he decided to come all the way to California on this trip. We honeymooned aboard the Queen Elizabeth 2, we celebrated our 10th anniversary aboard the Queen Mary 2, and now he will see the original Queen Mary. It is 7:00 at night, so the huge parking lot of the Queen is basically deserted, and we park and Ben literally scurries to the great vessel. Her smoke stacks are so familiar to me as well as her famous Cunard colors. Ben and the boys run ahead, and I organize and gather things from in the truck and RV and take a phone call. When I decide to walk to where the three of them are taking pictures, I run into a huge guy urinating in the parking lot. AWKWARD! Incidentally, he never stopped; he simply turned away. We were right in a very public parking lot! And in the presence of a Queen, too!

We finally arrive to the campground and when I go into the office to register us, I still feel like I am moving in the truck. That sensation has happened to me a few times. It is the same feeling you have when you finally disembark from a cruise ship except that in that case you rock for a few days. I feel like I am perpetually moving forward! I think my body must also look like a car seat.

When I find our camper, Ben is in a discussion with a man who work at the resort and boy oh boy can he talk! I thought I could talk! We are so tired and hungry, and he is talking our faces off. He tries to talk me out of visiting LA the next day due to the driving and the freeway, and after what I just experienced, I am buying his story. According to the RV guy, if we get stuck in LA after 1:30 in the afternoon, we are looking at a 3-4 hour commute due to traffic even though LA is only an hour away. I am discouraged, and Ben can see this so he does some research and decides we will take the California Amtrak into LA, and connect to the subway via Union Station. I agree and feel happy that I will see Hollywood. I make cheeseburgers and everyone calls it a night.

Tomorrow, LA!

Day 11

Driving into the night was a great idea last night because today we wake in Vegas in our lovely RV resort. The boys want to swim since it is so warm outside, so we head to our tropical paradise pool at 9:00 am. We have to live every moment of this day because we want to swim, relax, see Vegas, and visit with old friends.
I get the boys changed into their suits and the four of us head to the pool. Our resort has two pools, one for adults and one for families, and hot tubs. We also have a restaurant, a very nice store and gift shop, and room service to our RV! The family pool is surrounded by giant rocks, a waterfall, and a sandy beach. Finally, we get to relax and just hang out! The boys JUMP right in but I am less eager. The hot Nevada sun bakes down on us and I am hoping the sunscreen I have applied on the does the job. Under the thatch-like umbrella, Ben and I sit and relax and watch the boys revel in the gorgeous, hot day. We talk about what we are going to do with our day, and Ben enters the heated pool and plays with the boys. I love to watch him interact with the boys and there is nothing on earth, not a Nintendo, a Wii, an ipod, or a television show that they like more. Ethan’s giggles and yells echo throughout the resort and a man from California compliments me on my “beautiful” family. We strike up a conversation about California, our next destination, and he gives us tips about traveling around San Diego. The water is warm and pleasant, and all of us are enjoying this pit stop because we are travel weary.
Ben is expecting his old college friend, Tonia, to drop by our resort so that they can have a mini-reunion here in Vegas. After some time in the hot tub for both of us and a very warm, happy conversation with my sister-in-law, Mindy, Tonia arrives and Ben is very happy to see her. After intros, I let them catch up and I play in the pool with the boys and buy them snacks in our campground store, which is just great. Bennie and I buy a Las Vegas magnet for the RV, and the early afternoon is a real success.
It is hard to pull the boys away from the pool and the sand, but we must explore Vegas. I have not been to Vegas since 1995 so I am expecting a lot of changes and great new things. Traffic is a bear, but we enjoy taking in every inch of the strip. Mandalay Bay, the Luxor, New York New York are like busy paintings to the eye. Bennie is very enthusiastic, and as I look into the backseat, I notice how sunburned little Ethan is. He is a freckle monster! Bennie is absolutely amazed by the mini Statue of Liberty (which is not very mini) because he has been to the Lady Liberty several times (again, lucky kiddo). I love the Brooklyn Bridge that spans the entire sidewalk and I adore the ethnic neighborhood building fronts. If you have never been, you will be delighted by the New York Taxi rollercoaster! Hehe How appropriate. As we continue down the strip, I am just anxious to get to the Bellagio Hotel and I imagine Ocean’s Fourteen (the 14th cast member being me). The Eiffel Tower looms ahead and stands erect over the strip. Just awesome and cheesy all at the same time. Across from the Eiffel Tower and the Paris Resort is my Bellagio. Ohhhhhhh…stately, luxurious, magnificent and grandiose. Could such a palace have been created for middle-aged fat men in Bermuda shorts eating buffet style? Me thinks Not! We park at the Bellagio, and I am so happy to be in the city again. I adore city life and all of its business and hectic happiness. I am telling you now, I will live in Manhattan yet. While we park, we hear the not-to-distant sounds of the water cannons exploding and dancing in the Bellagio Fountain, which is the size of a large pond in front of the wonder that is the hotel. We opt to go through the Bellagio on our way to the strip, and I have died and gone to hotel heaven. The towering ceilings, covered in glass colorful flowers and merry-go-round with sunflowers in each of the cars is breathtaking. Giant watering cans water down on a beautiful Italian garden, and the front desk is bigger than my entire home. I am constantly in danger of bumping into fellow tourists as my eyes are always up and I am hypnotized by grandeur. Our first stop will be the gorgeous dancing fountains. As we come to them, the music begins: Bocelli’s ConTe Partiro, one of my very favorites, and the fountain guns rise out of the beautiful lake and waltz to the rhythm of the music. I love this! After singing along and watching until the choreography ends, we make our way to the Mirage for the dolphins and Treasure Island so the boys can see the pirate ships on the Boulevard. It is difficult to keep the boys on track because they are so overwhelmed by their surroundings, and I can tell that Bennie loves Vegas. We walk and walk, and Bennie asks so many questions about the almost nude women on the sides of the trucks and the word “prostitute.” Ay Carumba! We are all hungry and I know that the pirate ships battle and sink so I tell everyone that after we watch the war at sea, we can get something to eat. Turns out that the pirate show only happens in the evenings, so we partake in a luscious Vegas buffet and then head to the Mirage to see the animals.
In the meantime, we get in touch with Joanne Genits and her daughter, Andie, and we decide to meet them on the strip around 7:30. The boys are enamored with the wonderful dolphins at the Mirage, and Ethan just adores the baby dolphin who swims by his mother’s side constantly. However, nothing could prepare our boys for the gigantic lion and the playful, huge tigers. They love watching them, but I am really angry that I have paid for and helped to perpetuate the lives of the animals in these small living areas. They are healthy looking, but I cannot help thinking about how truly awful this whole environment is for such magnificent creatures.
We can barely pull the boys from the mini-zoo to see the pirate ship show, but I am finally able to do so. We wait outside Treasure Island for it to begin. I saw this once before and I know it will be very cool. Boy was I wrong. The show is completely sexual in nature, and six or seven “Sirens” dance on a ship and call to the other ship filled with horny sailors who have not seen women in a long time. They dance Vegas style (stripper style) and I am thinking, “Oh Lord, I brought my sons here!” The songs they sing are filled with innuendoes and strong sexual undertones, and Bennie keeps looking at me and rolling his eyes. I want to pull them away but we are surrounded by such a large, chaotic crowd that I cannot move them as I would like to. Bennie keeps saying, “This is lame. I don’t think you should let Ethan see this,” and a mother next to me is as aggravated as I am!
Finally, the burlesque is over, and we enter Treasure Island to meet Joanne. We find them at Ben and Jerry’s and the reunion is touching and tear-filled. I have not seen Joanne since right before my mom died, so we talk about her and what it was like, and more and more tears. Joanne feels like home. To be with her is to feel my mom, and I like it and miss it. That feeling seldom occurs and no matter what I try, it is only conjured when I am with her friends. I am so glad I saw Joanne and Andie. Love to them both. Although it was a wonderful night in that way, I am struck with a minor gall bladder attack, so I am in some pain. This makes me cut the evening a bit shorter than I would have liked, but it was all for the best because Ethan James Turrano had reached his full expiration point. He HAD it! He wanted to go back to the RV resort and swim and he was very, very tired. He slowly begins to hate everything around him, and no matter what we say or see, he doesn’t like it. As we come back to the Bellagio hotel, we want to watch the fountains in the evening and Ethan keeps exclaiming, “They’re lame!” They dance to the theme from “Titanic” and “Hey Big Spender” and I am mesmerized again. Ethan is sitting on the ground exclaiming that I don’t love him. The Bellagio security guard ( the size of a bouncer) cannot stop laughing and Ethan, and finally I put him out of his misery and we find the truck and head up the strip toward our RV resort.
Ben and I have decided that we are going back without kids…soon! Tomorrow we see California!

Day 10

Early start for laundry detail at our KOA in Filmore Utah. A very unfriendly KOA manager does not want to give us change for the washers and dryers and tells Ben he is not an ATM machine. I will be sure to put that on our campground evaluation. With a stick of dynamite, I blow Bennie out of bed and he showers and eats breakfast. He misses home and tells me he is ready to return. We have been away from home a lot longer than this before, but Bennie misses his routine and his friends.

After we are organized and on the road toward Parawon, I call Roseann and Randy and tell them when to expect us. I have not seen Roseann since my grandmother’s death last August, so it will be great to see her. When we finally enter her little town, Randy drives out to meet us and lead us to their home because it is not on the GPS system. Roseann looks good and I can see Utah completely agrees with her. She and Randy had just returned from two days of rock hounding near Filmore where we stayed for the night, and she takes the boys and me out to her beautiful rock garden. I would expect this since Roseann loves nature very much, and always loved collecting rocks when he lived in Andrea, PA when my dad was still alive. The two tell us we have to see the Petroglyphs, ancient native rock and cave drawings in the Parawon Gap, so after a short visit in their lovely home, we follow them between the mountains and into the desert. We head toward two giant structures that are split by a road and pull into a makeshift parking area. As we get closer to the rocks, we see the ancient carvings. Some look like suns, others look like scaled snakes, and Roseann takes us to the pregnant belly drawing that is discussed in books. We enjoy talking and investigating the rocks and as I look down the road between the mountains we are learning about, tumbleweeds blow across the highway. The boys are delighted by this and the three of us look for some tumbleweeds on the side of the road. I pick one up and quickly drop it as it pricks my finger and the thorn gets stuck in my skin. Ethan and Bennie don’t seem to mind being pricked, and they walk around carrying tumbleweeds and then releasing them into the wind. After some great discussion of the meanings of the petroglyphs, we head back to Randy and Roseann’s for some dinner. They serve us ziti, salad, pork, and garlic bread. The boys are mannerly and well-behaved, and we talk of what we have seen so far. Randy and Roseann are Utah experts, and they tell us after we eat, they are going to take us to Cedar Breaks National Park and Brian Head. Randy tells Ben that there is NO WAY we can bring our trailer the way they would like to take us. The grade is 13%, the turns are hairpin and steep, and it would be so absolutely difficult to haul the thing up there. We all decide that is best since we have to come back their way to get on Interstate 15 to head to Lake Meade, Hoover Dam, and Las Vegas!

As promised, the climb to Cedar Breaks National Park is intense but spectacular. Bennie begins to complain about his ears, and I can hardly hear as mine deal with the pressure around me. The earth around us is growing redder and ruddier by the mile, and I wonder what we have in store for us. I know Roseann has probably walked all of these nature trails and knows every inch of them. Eventually we enter a ski resort area, which is fairly abandoned right now since there is no real snow, except some patches around us. Still, though, we climb. Cedar Breaks is part of the Dixie National Forrest which surrounds us on both sides, but pale pink rock is being to be exposed to us at every turn. “Wow.” That’s all we say anymore. “Wow,” and “Oh My God!” At this point in the trip, words are useless. We arrive to a lookout point, and as we exit the truck we are immediately hit with the cold wind and jackets are an absolute necessity. We have ascended thousands of feet and the temperature has dropped 20 degrees. As we look over Cedar Breaks, we are met with a beautiful pink canyon that has eroded over millions of years. All that the eye can see was at one time underwater, and the magnificence caused by the water is really unbelievable. Roseann gives us information on the view and then we all turn to look at the peak behind us: Brian Head. Roseann tells us that if we are enamored by this view, just wait until we see Bryce Canyon. I cannot wait and I believe her.

We say goodbye for now and head to Bryce. Roseann explained that we would come to Red Canyon first. As we quietly drive, I look in the backseat and both boys are completely asleep, heads back, mouths open, quiet, repetitive snoring. We have really expected a lot out of them, haven’t we? Most of the ride is comprised of dark green, rough terrain with mountain ranges as far as I can see to my left, my right, and in front of me. How is it possible that there would be red canyons here? In fact, it looks a lot like South Dakota. Houses spring up here and there, and an occasional inn and small resort. Ben is forever snapping pics of the rustic cabins out here, and there is no short supply of them. He dreams of having a log cabin in the West. Someday, Ben, someday. I, like the boys, am lulled to sleep by the tranquil setting and our GPS system’s British accent. When I wake, I see a light red mountain ahead of us and a realize we have neared Red Canyon. The closer we get, the redder the rocks become. The deep, orangish red color demands my attention, and the small hoodoos sit on the rocks as if they are launch pads and the stalagmite structures might blast off. Red Canyon is curvy, so each bend reveals a new site of color explosion and design. Oh how I want to wake the boys because now we have to drive through rock arches of Red Canyon which have been blown out to make way for the road. Ben reassures me that we will come back this way, so I let sleeping dogs lie. Red Canyon is little but impressive, and now my curiosity is piqued for Bryce.

Friends, nothing prepares you for Bryce Canyon. It is concealed by wooded forest and pristine, quiet forest floors. We park in the shade of the forest, but I catch a glimpse of the pink rock in front of us where the canyon drops off to its archaic ocean floor. The boys run ahead and I yell to them to return so I can read some rules to them about dangerous cliff drop-offs and staying on the path as instructed by the rangers. Many people are here today and RV’s are everywhere. I miss not having the camper with us today because I have grown quite used to having my home behind me for a snack or a bathroom break or a change of clothes or shoes. Despite the fact that I have a thirty-foot trailer, I am a hotel girl at heart, but I have loved seeing all of this by way of our RV. As we drive I dream of RV trips this summer with my family. As we come to the canyon edge, I am completely flabbergasted and my eyes are glued to Bryce. How to explain? Bryce is huge and we can see 200 miles of awe-inspiring view. The canyon floor is easily seen but it is filled with red, pink, and white hoodoos that form shapes such as heads, fingers and toes. The tie-dyed rock is creamy and rich in color, and the entire sight looks as if it has been airbrushed by God. The white blends into the pink as if marbleized, and the soft colors melt into each other. Several scenic points and overlooks call our names and we are off! I eavesdrop on a ranger who is discussing geology and he explains how erosion has given birth to this rocky creation. How lucky are my sons to take this in. Around us, I hear German, French, Swedish, and Indian. A German couple with three very small children really have their hands full. I don’t speak German and I don’t know how well she knows English, but I giggle at the antics of her kids and she and I give each other that knowing, understanding “mother” look. Bryce Canyon with a three year old, a two year old and a, perhaps, 11 month old? God Bless You, Frau! We take loads of pics and I have to laugh as Bennie and Ethan descend into their imaginary world of Star Wars. In no time at all, they have each found an old stick that resemble blasters from the movie, and with a pair of binoculars, they look for Sand People in Bryce Canyon. They find them, too, living in caves among the HooDoos. WhoKnew? Their imaginations are enviable; I mean here I am at one of the greatest sites on our planet where our very surroundings seem to defy imagination, and Ben and Ethan find a way to make it even more imaginative. Ben, Ethan, and Bennie take one of the paths down into the canyon, and I stay above to snap pictures of them. Bennie is beside himself that Ethan might fall down one of the steep cliffs, so Bryce loses some of its fun and adventure for the always responsible, big brother Ben. By now we are all tired, so as the boys ascend from the canyon, we decide we are going to take the scenic walk back to the truck and go back to Randy and Roseann's to pick up our trailer. We are running behind in our schedule, but I am very surprised when Ben tells me we are driving straight through to Las Vegas tonight! What? Is he sure? It is already 8:30 but he says there will be enough light and enough time to get there plus we will enter Pacific time this evening which will put us 3 hours behind most of you.

We say goodbye to Randy and Roseann, who think our breakneck pace is impossible, and head on down the road, fueled by Taco Bell and some snacks. We are going to Vegas baby! The sky grows darker and darker, and the trucks faster and faster. They suck us under them and Ben fights off what they do to our air. He tells me the car carriers are the worst, and I can tell he is very tired. Vegas lives somewhere in front of us in the darkness around 190 miles away. The boys watch movies, I write my blog, and Ben stares off into the darkness of the flat, hypnotic highway. The desert is very dark. We leave Utah into Arizona, but we don't stop for pics but it is too dangerous. We will get our Arizona welcome sign on our way back. After brief time in Arizona, we finally cross into Nevada, and just a mile after the state line, we are inundated by our first casino. Ben laughs.

As we descend into the dark desert, the temperature outside climbs and climbs and we feel the heat of Nevada. When we left Utah, it was 71 and now it is 88 degrees outside our truck. We roll out of the mountains and we are cautioned by strong cross wind signs. We do feel some of those and I keep wondering if we should pull over and rest or continue on. I have my heart set on the Oasis RV park in Vegas, which is luxurious and wonderful. Check it out here: http://www.oasislasvegasrvresort.com/
We have room service to our RV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If we can get a site. It seems their reservation phone line is not functioning for some reason, so I am a little stressed about arriving in Las Vegas at 11:30 pm without a stop.

After miles and miles of darkness and 18 wheelers, the sky above us and ahead of us has a faint lighted aura to it, and Ben says, can that be Vegas? We are still 86 miles away. I assure him it is. What else could it be? The 86 miles roll by fairly quicklly and as we turn a long bend, we are absolutely amazed by the brilliant lights of Vegas that lie ahead of us but are still 18 miles away. Ben is simply astounded by it. Ethan is sleeping, but Bennie is awake and interested. As we get closer, we can make out the strip, the needle, and the beacon that shines into outerspace from the Luxor Hotel. We hope the Oasis will take us, and Ben navigates his way through the detours and chaotic roadwork of Interstate 15 that runs busily parallel to Vegas and all the hotels and casinos. It is hard for Ben to drive as he wants to look at the sites, but he is tired, it is late, and its is stressful!!!!!! The GPS leads us to our RV resort, which is spectacular! They have room! We luck out!

Tomorrow we do Vegas. We see Joann Genits and her daughter Andie, and Ben sees his friend from college, Tonia. The boys are looking forward to a day of swimming and fun and so are we. Luck be a lady tonight!