Playing the Lottery

Adolfo and I drove up to the one-room ranger's station. We were plenty early, yet there were other cars already parked there. It seemed some even camped in the parking lot. People were standing around waiting for the ranger to unlock the door. Each group of people spoke a different language--German, Norwegian, Chinese, English.

The ranger opened the doors, and bodies poured into the room. All began frantically completing applications. Ours was filled out in advance so we handed it to the ranger and were assigned number 1. Finally, when all applications were gathered and numbers were assigned, the ranger threw balls of corresponding numbers into a tumbler. She tumbled the balls and began drawing numbers. Silence filled the room as the ranger read the numbers: 22, 18, 6... Once all ten slots were filled, the winners paid their fees and the losers filed out. We joined the losers, slowly making our way to our vehicles. Better luck tomorrow.

So, why join a lottery only to pay a fee? The winners of this lottery are allowed to purchase permits into The Wave, a sandstone structure with orange, yellow, and white stripes that undulate like waves connecting several buttes. After visiting, Los Angeles Times writer Hugo Martin described the sight as Rock Candy. He claims it looks like saltwater taffy pulled across the desert. After the first photo I saw of this place, I was sold; I just had to see this with my own eyes.

Disheartened that we had lost the lottery, Adolfo and I spent the day exploring other sandstone formations in the area. Cliffs with multicolor rings, dry waterfalls, hoodoos that looked like toadstools. We were not disappointed, but we were not ready to give up on The Wave, either.

The next morning, we headed back to the ranger station. This time we arrived later and were assigned number 11. We waited as numbers were called: 24, 18, 11. We stood stunned. We won!

Vicky Was Here in 2010

Why do people feel the need to carve their names into tree trunks and rocks or spray paint messages on the sides of buildings? This question comes to me after reading yet another name scribbled on a beautiful sandstone formation. I cringe when I see this graffiti, and I turn my head in disgust. But then I am reminded of other graffiti that I have seen and appreciated.

When I was little, I used to go to church camp every summer. The inside walls of each cabin were covered with graffiti. Everyone signed their names and the year they attended camp. Some left poems or Biblical verses. Others left messages that were less than holy. This tradition had gone back through the camp’s history, and it was lots of fun to read the walls. As I got older, I found my scribblings from when I was much younger. I even found my grandparents’ names from long ago. When someone I respected passed away, I might find their names on a wall and feel their presence again. At some point when I was in college, the camp decided to paint over the scribblings. I was appalled and I still am. They lost so much camp history with that decision.

As a teenager I found gang graffiti comical. One gang would write its name on a wall. Then another gang would cross it out and write their own. The individual gang member would often sign with his own nickname. It all seemed so stupid. It was like committing a crime and providing evidence of your guilt.

I traveled to Mexico and Europe as a young adult. I found foreign graffiti very interesting because it veered away from gangs and personal messages. Instead, much of their graffiti was political. This was really fascinating to me. I learned about struggles in their countries and I became more aware of how others see Americans.

Graffiti didn’t first show up with my grandfather’s postings at church camp, though. I remember seeing graffiti while visiting the Colosseum in Rome. Spectators at the games carved gladiators and animals on the marble walls. A senator even carved his name on the back of a seat.

As we visit the southwest, I am reminded that graffiti is much older than the Roman Colosseum even. We see ancient pictographs along canyon walls and read anthropologists’ guesses as to what the pictures mean. No one really knows, and I wonder if it was just as informal as the graffiti we see today. Perhaps someone just wanted to say, “I was here.”

On this trip we met up with some of the traditional “I was here” graffiti that the National Park System wanted to preserve. They framed it just where it was at Pompy’s Pillar in Montana. This rock was signed by William Clark of the Lewis and Clark expedition. He too felt the need to tell the world that he had passed by in 1806.

So, here I am looking at names carved into cacti. Perhaps the writers are so happy to be in such a beautiful place that they just want everyone to know they were here. Perhaps they just want the world to know they exist. Perhaps they have finally found the love of their lifes and need to express this emotion. After thinking all this over, am I ready to excuse the writers? Hell no! They can go write about it in a Blog or post it on Facebook. Leave Mother Nature alone!

RV Brands Gone Wild

We live in RV parks and campgrounds where we are surrounded by large motorhomes, campers, trailers, and fifth wheels. After a while we started noticing that the names of these vehicles can be quite comical.

Most names are related to travel, nature, or animals. So, common names include Adventurer, Springdale, and Arctic Fox. But at some point the RV makers ran short of names in these categories and had to resort to some ridiculous ones: See Ya!, Vortex, Wild Thing.


Ego Inspired
Many RV makers go with ego inspired names: King of the Road, The Executive, Entimidator, Maverick, Rock Star. Others go with names that would be hard pressed to intimidate anyone: Bambi, Capri Micro, Little Guy, Minnie Winnie, or Egg.

Spelling Impaired
It seems many of these creative sorts are spelling impaired (note the Entimidator above). Other spelling difficulties include: Komfort, Kustom Koach, Travel Eze, and Xtra Lite.

Weight Watchers Inspired
Weight is a constant concern with spelling impaired RV makers. They seem to be using a thesaurus to develop new ways to express the superlative while trying to convey the opposite: SuperLite, MegaLite, HyperLite. Once their thesaurus ran out of superlatives, they resorted to the original travel, nature, and animal names: CarriLite, Northern Lite, and Coyote Lite.

Old Age Inspired
In an attempt to attract the retired folks, some RV makers take on names that suggest leisure: Cozy Cruiser, Lazy Daze, Slumber Queen. Perhaps they had retired people in mind when they named one of their vehicles Pulse, as in "As long as we still have a pulse, let's go camping."

All American
A few of the RV makers went for patriotic names: American Allegiance, American Pride, Patriot, Anthem. Other RV makers took names of American themes: Freedom II Libero, Born Free, Independence, Pleasure-Way (pursuit of happiness). Other names suggest the opposite of patriotism: Ameri-Lite, Revolution.


Extreme Vehicles
Some of the more popular RVs with the non-retired crowd seem to be toy-haulers where motorcycles, dune buggies, and other ATVs can be carried in a garage of sorts. Names for these trailers generally go for extreme, emotion, or violence themes: Adrenaline Surge, Blast Power Plus, Raptor, Razor Edge, Fury, Attitude, Recon ZX, Stealth, Inferno, Octane ZX, and Rage'n.

Computer Inspired
Geeks infiltrated the RV world at some point and started naming their RVs after computer applications and science fiction: Access, Outlook, R Pod, T@B, I Camp, Unimog.


Whatever
Finally, when all else failed, RV makers opened their childrens' vocabulary books and randomly selected SAT words: impulse, ideal, precept, aspire, traverse, and providence.

Leaving Las Vegas

With copious opportunities for entertainment, Las Vegas has no shortage of activities for any visitor. The only difficulty is deciding what to do. Among our options were:
-gamble at any establishment in town including grocery stores
-take in a burlesque Cirque du Soleil show
-get re-married at the Elvis Chapel
-go indoor skydiving
-take a Stripper 101 course
-go exotic racing in a Lamborghini at the Las Vegas Motor Speedway
-stroll the Las Vegas Grand Canal in a gondola
-shoot a real machine gun in an air conditioned range
-hire personal escorts

None of these activities really fit our style, so Adolfo and I headed to Valley of Fire where we could follow the contours of the most beautiful, curved figures in southern Nevada.

At the time when dinosaurs roamed the earth, Valley of Fire was sand dunes. Through time, though, the dunes turned to stone. Then wind, sand, and rain eroded the rock and sculpted caves and holes along the walls and canyons.

As I climbed inside a cave, I realized that it was connected to other caves through a series of holes and arches. The yellow, orange, and red light inside the caves captivated me and I felt compelled to peek into every cave I encountered until I realized there were just too many caves. Later, I climbed in mostly to escape the glaring sun, but while inside I was surrounded with beauty.

Green and gray shrubs and cacti grow against the rocks and in crevices here and there. They add a fantastic contrast to the red rock. The sky, too, takes on a deep blue.


One hike took us into a valley filled with petroglyphs created by the Basket Maker people and later the Anasazi Pueblo. Unfortunately, today’s visitors continue the tradition of drawing and carving on the rocks.


The best hike was at White Domes. This area differed from the rest of the park in that the rock took on more contrast in its color. Here we continued to find red rock, but we also found white rock as the name suggests. The two colors mix creating amazing stripes.

The White Domes hike winds through narrow canyons formed by flowing water. With each step I wanted to squeal with glee—and in fact I did on several occasions. The curve of the canyon is erotic. The canyon with the tallest walls opens at the end to two rocks with stripes of red, orange, and white that look too perfect to be real. I nearly broke into tears of joy when I saw them.


Adolfo and I couldn’t stand to leave this place, so we stayed four days, celebrating our anniversary here. Although we had the trailer, we couldn’t stand to be inside. So on our anniversary we put out mats and sleeping bags and slept under the stars.

Campfires around us danced along sections of the rock, revealing amazing color against the dark sky. The stars, too were so bright, and we watched them move across the sky. Each time we woke to the hooting of an owl or a cool breeze, the sky was different, and as light returned, the rock glowed with the sun's spotlight.

Viva Las Vegas!

We walk into the Bellagio and I am overwhelmed by the gorgeous Chihuly glass ceiling. I have always loved Chihuly's art, and this ceiling is a beautiful example of his work. We were told of the Bellagio's spectacular flower arrangements, but no one mentioned the ceiling.

As we make our way to the door, we pass a group of women with neon pink hair. Then, we see the man in their group; he is dressed in a fuzzy gorilla costume made with the same neon pink fur. Now, this is what I expected of Las Vegas, I think.

As we walk out onto The Strip, Frank Sinatra serenades us as a water show begins in the Bellagio's huge courtyard. Behind the dancing waters we see an Italian village and across the street is the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and other scenes of Paris all squished together into one casino block. Unimpressed, Adolfo begins playing with his I-phone.

"Where now?" Adolfo asks. "This is your thing, so you decide." Adolfo will take no credit for the decision to come to Las Vegas.

"I just want to walk down The Strip," I respond.

So off we go. Trying to make the experience shorter, I walk quickly. Adolfo, on the other hand, drags his feet, never looking up from his I-phone. He is too busy sulking and wants to make it obvious that he does not want to be here. This is his fourth time in Las Vegas, and he has never liked the city. I remind him that this is my first time here.

As we walk, a traveling billboard of naked women passes, announcing that the girls want to meet us. A diabla greets us from atop a building, and men attempt to pass Adolfo cards with pornographic photos of women who promise to be perfect escorts. Adolfo passes on the cards, I pick them up. Isn't this part of the Las Vegas experience?

We pass a mall of shops so expensive you would have to win a million to purchase a pair of socks. Adolfo's I-phone goes back in his pocket when we find a photo gallery with great landscape photography. Later, as we continue down the street, the phone returns to his hand.

We follow an older couple across a street. The woman is dressed in cougar patterns from head to toe. Not a costume--but quite an outfit.

Soon we arrive at New York. We walk across the Brooklyn Bridge and look up at the Statue of Liberty which is set on a tiny island. Behind the statue are skyscrapers in the shape of the Chrysler Building and the Empire State Building. I decide to go inside to see the interior design. When I enter all I see are hundreds of video screens. Yuck! It just looks like another casino.

Kindly, Adolfo doesn't take this as an opportunity to leave, instead he directs me to the interesting area of the inside. Behind all the video machines are winding corridors all decorated like New York streets. It really is well done. We purchase a coffee in Greenwich Village before we continue on.


Walking out of New York, New York we look straight into a huge Disney-like castle. A huge golden lion stares at us from across the street. "One more block," I beg.

I still want to see the Egyptian pyramid down the street. Adolfo is becoming very tired and annoyed, but I am enjoying all the outrageous buildings. It's Disneyland for adults.


When we start back toward the Bellagio, the sky gets dark, and the street lights up. Women in playboy statue of liberty/maid costumes roam the streets followed closely behind by missionaries carrying "Only Jesus Loves You" signs.

A man approaches us with a great deal. If we return tomorrow to hear about the City Center apartment complex, he will give us $50.00 each to use in the casinos, tickets to two shows, and a free Brazilian steak meal. We just have to have an income of $50,000 or more. We explain that we are unemployed. He asks which hotel we're staying in, and we respond that we are camping. He continues that we should just lie.

Since we have no interest in gaming, and we do not want to spend another day on the strip, we pass up the deal. Adolfo is pleased though. He is entertained by the man's persistence and with the fact that he chose the absolute worst possible couple to aim his sales at.

As we walk back through the Bellagio, we follow a woman with Spock ears. Her blond friend dons a traditional Chinese gown complete with parasol.

Safely back at the trailer, Adolfo takes in a game of cards.

Nature of the Weird

We all know that some things in nature are weird, but the Eastern Sierras and Death Valley seem to be a study of nature’s mysteries.

Tufas of Mono Lake
After two weeks in Yosemite, we crossed Tioga Pass into Inyo National Forest. Soon we reached the ancient Mono Lake. Originally the lake was a sea. Today it's smaller, but retains its saltwater and has no outlet. Since most of the freshwater entering the lake evaporates, the water is 2 ½ times more salty than the ocean. Mono Lake is adorned with calcium-carbonate formations called tufas. These odd spires and knobs jut up as if they were formations on another planet. These tufas form when alkaline and spring water interact.


Devil’s Postpile
As we continued down Hwy 395 we came across signs for Devil’s Postpile. We decided to check out what could be so terrible as to name it after the Devil. The Postpile was aptly named. It appeared to be a lot of posts piled together vertically. These were all rock and seemed to be carved into hexagons. It was difficult to believe that these were natural. According to what we read, the formations were caused by volcanic activity. Lava cooled uniformly creating the Postpile.

Hollywood at Lone Pine
After spending some time in the ski community of Mammoth Lakes, we headed south to Lone Pine. There we found Hollywood. The small town has a Film History Museum and tours of rocks named after Gene Autry and Gary Cooper or filming locations of How the West Was Won and Rawhide. We followed Movie Road out to the Alabama Hills where wind, snow, and sand carved the red rocks into smooth shapes and formations. Our self-guided tour brochure pointed out such formations as Big Bertha, The Spooks, Batman, Rhino Feet, and Hands From Hades. We passed up these impressive spots to meet dozens of photographers at the formation I’ve named Photographer’s Orgasm Arch.

Death Valley: The Devil’s Playground
Just to remind ourselves of why we left Texas, we headed on to Death Valley. This Hell-hot desert includes lots of weird landscapes.

First we drove out past cacti that looked like Dr. Seuss’ version of trees with spiky Afros at the end of each limb. These trees are better known as Joshua Trees. Poor Joshua must have had eternal bad-hair days.

While driving down the roads, we noticed a eerie scene. Sand flowed across the roads like the ghosts of 19th century 49ers who were lost in Death Valley before they had a chance to make their fortunes in gold.


At Devil’s Golf Course we found salt crystals that wind and rain had lifted into sharp formations that most sane people avoid walking through let alone using as a golf course. Numerous holes in the ground would keep the golfer playing way past the 18 holes. Worse, the golfer would be hard pressed to advance the ball past these roughs and bunkers.

On we drove to the lowest elevation (282 feet below sea level) where we encountered a dry lake patterned with salt flats. These salt flats are again crystals, but this time they take on a honeycomb shape after continuous cycles of freezes, thaws, and evaporation.

Finally, we drove through mountains that were so colorful that it appeared as though someone had poured colored sand over them and let it flow down the sides.

We missed the most mysterious area of all. The Racetrack is where large rocks move, leaving tracks behind. No one has ever seen the rocks move, and no one has ever figured out how it happens. Weird!