We got up and headed back to the Canyon to get another glimpse, and I was determined to walk down the Canyon. Big and brave, that’s me after all -I insisted we do it. We started our trek down the narrow curving trail, my tennis shoes clung to the dirt path as I leaned against the rock slowly stepping down the trail. OMG my son ran down this trail in a carefree manner, young and athletic, and here his mother is a pitiful, pitiful sight, moaning crying, complaining, clawing, and crying. Each step holding on to each rock carefully. That is the difference between the young and the old and the brave and the scaredy cats -- MEOW. My heart stopped beating, as I was almost swung over to my unwelcomed death, as Ed pretended to push me over. "THAT’S NOT FUNNY!" I I wailed that was not funny…boo hoo for me as I ran to Willy for comfort, but got none. Buckle up Bucky, so I did. I watched the mules clump by and declared to myself I would NEVER ride the mule, oh no not me. We finally got up the trail. We took one last look at the beauty of the Canyon and thanked God I didn’t fall over.
The travel to Vegas was wonderful, sweeping over mountains and curves and the beautiful scenery was awesome. Soon we came to the Hoover Dam. It was steep and high and I peeked over a few times and wondered how many men dropped to their death from that height. Yikes back to the car. Bye bye Hoover...
Then, it appeared from the dessert, the town of glitter and glitz - it's Las Vegas Baby! Our hotel was all that, and more. It was glamorous and was glittered with lots of shopping. We had a few beers at the brewery and took a gangsta tour. We arrived at some hole in the wall hotel. It looked like Elvis had been there. Mare and I exchanged glances like, yuck don’t touch anything, and wondered what we got ourselves into. This was the seedy side of Vegas, and we were part of it. We got on this hot bus, with a grouchy host, who at first, sounded like he was a gansta 2. He spoke of many gangsters and we couldn’t keep up with the names. We just knodded our heads like we understood the lingo, like being made, put on the shelve, associates and contracts…The bus swerved up and down the streets as he spewed tails of murders and gang members. We stopped at the Flamingo and paid homage to Bugsy Siege (Benjamin Siegelbaum), a ganster that was knocked out with bullets that blew his eyeball out. We said we were sorry for that, and got out of dodge.
Bye Vegas and on to San Fran. Yipee for us!
We had a little mishap in directions, and after long hours of driving, we got lost in the middle of rush hour traffic, and boy I was crabby! We found the address, but not the hotel! What the heck, that darn Garmin lied to us! She had us go right over the San Fran bridge. Farewell to you Garmin, but lo and behold, we punched in the wrong part of San Fran, so we apologized to her profusely. Back on to the highway, and it was heaven to our eyes when we saw the Oyster Inn on the BAY. OMG!! Quaint, quiet, and close to the water, our rooms were amazing, with windows opening to the water, and the boats. We walked a few steps into a little restaurant with fabulous food great people and free dessert. Yes, free dessert, chocolate cheesecake on a popsycicle stick! The rest is history.... Yummy!!
We went to see Alcatraz and it was cold burrrr..We climbed up hills, heard the clammor of the prisoners on tape, walked to the cafeteria and observed the long, sharp knives and the sound of one of the prisoners getting sliced. Yuck! We gazed out over the barred windows, and out to see San Francisco, and wondered who else stood before us looking at the same site. Mare and I got lost (how could that happen?), but we made the best of the situation and escaped the ROCK..
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