Labor Day Trip 2009, Part 6: Day trip to Mitchell Caverns, California

Sept. 10^th, 2009 7:23am – Eating dark chocolate-coated macadamias for breakfast. What happens in Vegas stays on your waistline.

I like my room at the Four Queens in Las Vegas, but the occasional aroma of sewage is off-putting. It ruins the enjoyment of the in-room coffee, if consuming of said coffee didn't ruin the enjoyment already.

3:46pm – Took at day trip over into the California-side of the Mojave for a visit to Mitchell Caverns.

The trip southbound on U.S. Highway 95 got exciting once across the state line. The twisting, undulating roller coaster ride of two-lane blacktop was worth the trip in its own right, with Barb deft at the wheel.

Pulling into Fenner along Interstate 40 for a pit stop. While in the gas station paying for overpriced AA batteries, we were informed for that our vehicle had a gas leak, and a considerable one to boot. The drip did diminish while we tried to figure out what to do next.

Our first decision was to head back to Vegas, but after some soul searching and talking with Al, we took a U-turn and headed westward once again to the caverns. A decision which served us well.

To describe the intimate experience at Mitchell Caverns would not do it justice. Suffice to say, the visit was heightened greatly by our guide. A character-and-a-half, his tales of the history of the caverns and his engaging and colorful descriptions of rooms and formations was well worth the trip. It may not be the biggest or most impressive of caverns, but if you need a break while tooling along Interstate 40 in the ass end of California, I recommend it. Everyone deserves to get off the asphalt once in a while.



Sept. 11^th 5:43pm – Next morning I did the breakfast buffet at the Golden Nugget. It was alright, but I seem to have fonder memories of the buffet at Main Street Station a few blocks away. I think mimosas might have been a factor as well.

For my last day in Vegas, Barb and I went to the Las Vegas Springs Preserve, an eco-museum where they simulate the wetland habitat of the springs that existed here, prior to European settlement and development. Lots of kid-friendly exhibitions and unfortunately a fair share of fauna in captivity in very confined spaces. A big minus for an otherwise interesting experience.

The ultimate bummer of my visit was reserved for when we went to the on-site cafeteria for a nosh, and to my astonishment it turned out to be a Wolfgang Puck eatery. I would not have gone anywhere near the Golden Nugget buffet had I known I was going to a Wolfgang Puck restaurant for lunch. I was still quite full from dining off the trough, so I opted for an iced tea. Dining FAIL.

One positive to the afternoon was coming across 4-pack cans of Sofia (Coppola) Mini Blanc de Blancs that Twitter pal 'meeskite' had been pining for back in Des Moines. In the past I've frequented Lee's Discount Liquors for Irish whiskeys that were not distributed in Iowa, and so they also came through for sparkling wine out of a can.

6:08pm – Four hour wait at McCarran Airport for the shuttle van to Kingman, and the train ride home. Hoping to get a sleeper berth tonight on the Chief. Word from Amtrak earlier today indicated plenty of openings. It will cost a pretty penny for the relative luxury afforded by sleeping reclined in an isolated space, but dammit I am on vacation.

8:08pm – The 'wifebeater' shirt (white, sleeveless) is alive and well, sitting next to me with nervous legs. He must have ants in his pants.

I'm not much of a breast-man, but I swear the St. Pauli 'girl', plus a few decades, walked right by me. Alas, no litres of beer in her grasp. I am a little parched.

Now we've got the most outrageous foot shuffle I've ever seen from a sitting position from 'wifebeater'. Speed kills, bro. Ditto for coke.

'Wifebeater' gets up and proceeds to set up shop across the way from me, his legs waggling back and forth, junk thrusting. Too bad he's scary ugly, I could have remotely enjoyed this spectacle.

With a brief reprieve from the man junk follies, I could concentrate on women walking by on high heels and pulling luggage. Their butt-moves are quite mesmerizing.

As much as I'd like to keep reporting on the absurd and mundane at McCarran Airport in Las Vegas, the laptop is hard-boiling the huevos.

9:52pm – Cooling off in the front seat of the shuttle van bound for Kingman, awaiting take-off. Still crossing fingers for a cheap sleeper tonight.

11:38pm – Woke up from sleep to find the van pulling into Laughlin for a pit stop. Laughlin?!?! Aiee!!! I must have died and gone to... heck?