2005-07-02 Dam Tour 2005-07-03 Cedar Breaks and Bryce Canyon 2005-07-04 Red Canyon and Grand Canyon 2005-07-05 North Kaibab Trail 2005-07-06 Virgin River Narrows 2005-07-07 Zion Canyon and Gooseberry Mesa 2005-07-08 Water Canyon 2005-07-09 Red Rock Canyon

Day 1 (Saturday, 7/2/2005)

I arrived at the Las Vegas airport late on Friday evening, along with apparently half of the combined populations of New York and Houston, who had popped in for the long weekend to enjoy a spot of craps and the free buffet.  After an hour waiting for my luggage to actually make it from the plane to the carousel and another hour waiting for the night attendant at the rental car counter to figure out how to use a computer, my brain was beginning to send gentle reminders to my body that it was 3 AM in Austin right now.  I was not far from The Strip, but as soon as I hit the mean streets of L.V. on my way to the hotel, I ran into half the population of L.A., who were apparently joining New York and Houston for drinks later at the Flamingo.  My destination for this evening was Bally's (hey, it was cheap), which I sought with great zeal as my jetlagged body wanted nothing more than to collapse into the middle of a heart-shaped bed and forget that gambling had ever been invented.  And an hour later, I did.

Thanks to the miracle of blackout curtains, I awoke at the crack of 10 AM and stared out onto the desolate ghost town that is Vegas before noon.  I had one thing on the agenda for today, which was taking a short drive to Hoover Dam and taking the dam tour.  I had seen the dam once before (Road Trip 2002), but as with so many other sights I would see this week, I had never explored it in detail.  The dam unfortunately does not offer the "hardhat tour" any longer, fearing since 9/11 that a terrorist might damage the 660-foot-thick concrete edifice with something they could carry in their pockets.  But the new "discovery tour" (think: Hoover Dam, Disney style) at least shows one an overview of the turbine room and allows one to walk along the top of the dam, provided that one doesn't make any sudden moves.

Nothing symbolizes the conquest of the American West more than Hoover Dam, for water has always been the limiting factor to settlement and development of the region.  Without Hoover Dam, there would be no Las Vegas or Los Angeles, at least not as we know them today.  It's easy to judge the dam's environmental impact harshly in the light of history, and it's even easier to judge the appalling working conditions under which Depression-era workers toiled to bring it to completion under budget and ahead of schedule.  But Hoover Dam reflects very much the era in which it was built.  It was a product of a time in our history when technology was seen as the panacea to all of the world's problems, an end unto itself rather than a means unto an end.  In the intervening years, we have as a nation learned much about our calling as stewards of the Earth, and we have much more yet to learn.  The economic conditions that led to the ready availability of cheap and, as the bosses at the time considered, "disposable" labor to build Hoover Dam no longer exist, and God willing, they never will again.  But while it is natural to criticize our ancestors, we must not forget to also marvel at their ingenuity and determination in the face of overwhelming odds.  For Hoover Dam is, above all, a monument to the thousands who risked their lives, and in many cases lost their lives, to try and put food into the mouths of their starving children.

I loitered on and around the dam for a few hours and took the scenic route back to Vegas through Boulder City, once the company town for the dam construction crews.  I had to make it back to the Vegas airport by 5:30 to catch the van shuttle to St. George, but I ultimately missed said shuttle due to a strange set of circumstances.  When I had reserved my seat, the company gave me precise directions to their pickup point: walk out of baggage claim onto the ground level of the airport, proceed to the farthest row of vehicles closest to the parking garage, and wait on a bench next to the yellow fire hydrant.  Oddly, due to the design of the Vegas airport, this set of directions works if you exit the building in either direction.  And I lost the coin toss.  After much confusion and frantic calls to the dispatcher, I discovered the error and made it onto the 7:30 shuttle (with Linda, as it turns out.)  We arrived in St. George fairly late, unfortunately too late to catch any restaurants open except for the local Denny's (which also doubled as the local teen clubhouse, from the looks of things.)