l'etoile
Jun 9, 09, 8:04 pm
So January and June usually mean month-long trips to someplace exotic with l’offspring. But there was a little problem when I began thinking about this year’s summer trip: L’offspring said he would be spending the summer at school playing with monkey pox or pregnant mice that catch colds or something like that.
Well, how about just getting away for a week, I suggested. We’d go someplace close to home to maximize the time, and then I’d head elsewhere the rest of the month.
L’offspring said OK and sent me oh, so subtle suggestions of what he had in mind in the form of full-screen photos of nature scenes – trees, mountains, clear blue skies.
Perfect. I had been wanting to hike slot canyons. This could work out well. We would go to Bryce National Park and Escalante National Monument. There was a new problem when I shared the news with l’offspring: He wasn’t thinking canyons; he was thinking alpine mountains, cold weather. Hiking in the Lofotens, Iceland or northern Canada was more what he had in mind. Red rock, Utah and scrub did not fit the bill. L’offspring was l’off the trip.
I planned it anyway. I would head to Vegas, spend a night a Planet Hollywood, go to Bryce for two nights, to Escalante for four. Then I'd head back to Vegas to recover with dinner at Alex at Wynn and a night in a suite and a massage at Trump.
I planned to leave for Las Vegas on a 1:30 Virgin America flight. I would rent a car from there the next day to head to Utah. Around 12:15 p.m., when I was finally packed, I realized I could rush to the airport and maybe make the flight, or I could run some errands and show up later in the afternoon, so I did that.
In hindsight, I’m not certain flying to Las Vegas late on a Thursday afternoon in early June was the best idea. It was entertaining though. There were the three 20something women who were already dressed for the club scene. Their dresses were so short they couldn’t stow their bags in the overheads or their dresses would reveal a little more of them than they were ready to show. There were several guys going to a bachelor party, though it seemed the party started a while ago in the lounge. Mostly there was just an interesting mix of Glamour “donts”, from sequined baseball caps to tie-dyed bell bottoms and lots of stuff in between.
I dropped my stuff in my suite at Planet Hollywood and headed out for sangria and tapas at Café Ba Ba Reba. The valet thought I was crazy for wanting to walk, and I probably was. The sidewalks were so packed with people it was tough to keep moving. So much for the recession.
I intended to head out about 8 a.m. the next morning, but as 8 turned to 9 and then to 10, I decided time and keeping to schedules were much overrated. The canyons were not going anywhere. I left the hotel at10:30.
I picked up an SUV from a very nice guy at the Avis office downtown at the Four Queens Hotel. I had taken a cab there and he asked why I didn’t call him for a ride. I said I’d called the Chairman’s Club number, but they said this office was too small for a pick up. Next time, he said, call him directly. He promised to give me a ride back to my hotel when I returned. He will also pick up and deliver you to the airport, and his rates are great. I made sure to keep his number.
Before I left Las Vegas for the week, I had to make one important stop. I’d been to the nightclubs, gotten behind the velvet ropes, had my picture in Vegas magazines, but what had eluded me was perhaps Vegas’ most elusive and exclusive spot, known only to the true cognoscenti. A place so secret that there is only a generic sign and an unmarked door. I refer to what is possibly the world’s only vegan donut shop.
http://i109.photobucket.com/albums/n57/letiole/P6040003-1.jpg
I didn’t get to the shop until 11 a.m. And who was I to think I could waltz in at that hour and still get a donut, especially after finding out it was National Donut Day. Really.
The donut case was practically empty. Where are the vegan donuts, I asked. They are gone, I was told. All that remained were vegan apple fritters. A customer, sitting in the shop probably eating “my” vegan donut, told me the case was usually full, but it being National Donut Day and all… Um, yes, silly me. I would celebrate with a vegan apple fritter. The guy behind the counter told me they open every day at 4 a.m. I could get a vegan donut then. Um, yes. 4 a.m.
As he got me my fritter, I asked the guy at the counter if he puts apple sauce in his donuts to keep them moist. No, he told me. His secret was yeast. This got my mind racing. Wasn’t yeast a living organism? Could something living really be vegan? But wasn’t there bacteria of some sort in all food? Could anything really be vegan? Yes, this trip was already getting deep. Too deep for a superficial girl. Since I’m a vegetarian and not a vegan, I ate my yeast-containing apple fritter without guilt. And with a new sense that perhaps vegans weren’t really occupying a higher moral plane.
http://i109.photobucket.com/albums/n57/letiole/P6040002-1.jpg
I set the GPS for Bryce and headed off. While still in Nevada, I figured I should stop for wine. I hear Utah only sells wine on the third Wednesday of months with blue moons, between 10 and 10:02 p.m., and for four times what it sells for everywhere else. All along the freeway, seemingly every few miles, was Walmart after Walmart. But I boycott Walmart so I couldn’t go there. Finally, I found a place called “Always”. It was next to a Walmart and may have shared the same space, but it definitely said “Always.” I walked in the door under the “Always” sign. An older man inside said, “Welcome to Walmart.” He must have been confused.
Upon reaching Bryce, the rock began to change. It was orange and there were turret-like formations. It reminded me a bit of Cappadocia in Turkey, only in a different color scheme.
http://i109.photobucket.com/albums/n57/letiole/P1010151-1.jpg
I paid the $25 park entrance fee, and checked into my cabin. I guess they were really four-plexes, but they looked like individual cabins, each with a porch and fireplace. They weren’t fancy, but they were tidy and just steps from the rim of the canyon and the trailheads.
http://i109.photobucket.com/albums/n57/letiole/P10101712-1.jpg
I read the park newspaper and found there would be ranger-led full moon hikes each of the next two nights. (Well, I guess one would be a full-moon hike and the other would be the kinda-full-moon hike.) The paper said you had to sign-up the morning before, and that they fill up quickly. I thought about doing that and then realized the trail is right outside my cabin, I could hike in the moonlight on my own, without having to show up and stand in line at the visitor center. So that’s what I did.
Coming up …hiking Bryce.
Well, how about just getting away for a week, I suggested. We’d go someplace close to home to maximize the time, and then I’d head elsewhere the rest of the month.
L’offspring said OK and sent me oh, so subtle suggestions of what he had in mind in the form of full-screen photos of nature scenes – trees, mountains, clear blue skies.
Perfect. I had been wanting to hike slot canyons. This could work out well. We would go to Bryce National Park and Escalante National Monument. There was a new problem when I shared the news with l’offspring: He wasn’t thinking canyons; he was thinking alpine mountains, cold weather. Hiking in the Lofotens, Iceland or northern Canada was more what he had in mind. Red rock, Utah and scrub did not fit the bill. L’offspring was l’off the trip.
I planned it anyway. I would head to Vegas, spend a night a Planet Hollywood, go to Bryce for two nights, to Escalante for four. Then I'd head back to Vegas to recover with dinner at Alex at Wynn and a night in a suite and a massage at Trump.
I planned to leave for Las Vegas on a 1:30 Virgin America flight. I would rent a car from there the next day to head to Utah. Around 12:15 p.m., when I was finally packed, I realized I could rush to the airport and maybe make the flight, or I could run some errands and show up later in the afternoon, so I did that.
In hindsight, I’m not certain flying to Las Vegas late on a Thursday afternoon in early June was the best idea. It was entertaining though. There were the three 20something women who were already dressed for the club scene. Their dresses were so short they couldn’t stow their bags in the overheads or their dresses would reveal a little more of them than they were ready to show. There were several guys going to a bachelor party, though it seemed the party started a while ago in the lounge. Mostly there was just an interesting mix of Glamour “donts”, from sequined baseball caps to tie-dyed bell bottoms and lots of stuff in between.
I dropped my stuff in my suite at Planet Hollywood and headed out for sangria and tapas at Café Ba Ba Reba. The valet thought I was crazy for wanting to walk, and I probably was. The sidewalks were so packed with people it was tough to keep moving. So much for the recession.
I intended to head out about 8 a.m. the next morning, but as 8 turned to 9 and then to 10, I decided time and keeping to schedules were much overrated. The canyons were not going anywhere. I left the hotel at10:30.
I picked up an SUV from a very nice guy at the Avis office downtown at the Four Queens Hotel. I had taken a cab there and he asked why I didn’t call him for a ride. I said I’d called the Chairman’s Club number, but they said this office was too small for a pick up. Next time, he said, call him directly. He promised to give me a ride back to my hotel when I returned. He will also pick up and deliver you to the airport, and his rates are great. I made sure to keep his number.
Before I left Las Vegas for the week, I had to make one important stop. I’d been to the nightclubs, gotten behind the velvet ropes, had my picture in Vegas magazines, but what had eluded me was perhaps Vegas’ most elusive and exclusive spot, known only to the true cognoscenti. A place so secret that there is only a generic sign and an unmarked door. I refer to what is possibly the world’s only vegan donut shop.
http://i109.photobucket.com/albums/n57/letiole/P6040003-1.jpg
I didn’t get to the shop until 11 a.m. And who was I to think I could waltz in at that hour and still get a donut, especially after finding out it was National Donut Day. Really.
The donut case was practically empty. Where are the vegan donuts, I asked. They are gone, I was told. All that remained were vegan apple fritters. A customer, sitting in the shop probably eating “my” vegan donut, told me the case was usually full, but it being National Donut Day and all… Um, yes, silly me. I would celebrate with a vegan apple fritter. The guy behind the counter told me they open every day at 4 a.m. I could get a vegan donut then. Um, yes. 4 a.m.
As he got me my fritter, I asked the guy at the counter if he puts apple sauce in his donuts to keep them moist. No, he told me. His secret was yeast. This got my mind racing. Wasn’t yeast a living organism? Could something living really be vegan? But wasn’t there bacteria of some sort in all food? Could anything really be vegan? Yes, this trip was already getting deep. Too deep for a superficial girl. Since I’m a vegetarian and not a vegan, I ate my yeast-containing apple fritter without guilt. And with a new sense that perhaps vegans weren’t really occupying a higher moral plane.
http://i109.photobucket.com/albums/n57/letiole/P6040002-1.jpg
I set the GPS for Bryce and headed off. While still in Nevada, I figured I should stop for wine. I hear Utah only sells wine on the third Wednesday of months with blue moons, between 10 and 10:02 p.m., and for four times what it sells for everywhere else. All along the freeway, seemingly every few miles, was Walmart after Walmart. But I boycott Walmart so I couldn’t go there. Finally, I found a place called “Always”. It was next to a Walmart and may have shared the same space, but it definitely said “Always.” I walked in the door under the “Always” sign. An older man inside said, “Welcome to Walmart.” He must have been confused.
Upon reaching Bryce, the rock began to change. It was orange and there were turret-like formations. It reminded me a bit of Cappadocia in Turkey, only in a different color scheme.
http://i109.photobucket.com/albums/n57/letiole/P1010151-1.jpg
I paid the $25 park entrance fee, and checked into my cabin. I guess they were really four-plexes, but they looked like individual cabins, each with a porch and fireplace. They weren’t fancy, but they were tidy and just steps from the rim of the canyon and the trailheads.
http://i109.photobucket.com/albums/n57/letiole/P10101712-1.jpg
I read the park newspaper and found there would be ranger-led full moon hikes each of the next two nights. (Well, I guess one would be a full-moon hike and the other would be the kinda-full-moon hike.) The paper said you had to sign-up the morning before, and that they fill up quickly. I thought about doing that and then realized the trail is right outside my cabin, I could hike in the moonlight on my own, without having to show up and stand in line at the visitor center. So that’s what I did.
Coming up …hiking Bryce.