Day 10: Hot Dam Wax Volcano

We crossed the dam bridge! Look at the dam view! Man, that dam water is green!

It was a day of dam puns. At least for a while. Until my brain ran out of them. Probably because it was damn hot.

Absolutely no pun there. Cool down, Willard!

So we took one of our spontaneous side trips to the Hoover Dam. Which was spectacular and marvelous and my huge iPhone 6 Plus is still not big enough to get a view of the whole thing from the visitor’s center observation deck.

I’d have loved to explored more, but as I said, it was just so blasted hot. Earl, my smart little cookie, faked me off in the visitor’s center. I thought she was reading about the dam and the river and, you know, learning stuff. Turns out, she’d found a way to cool off.

Still photos just cannot show how those pants are billowing in the breeze from the vent. Why did it take me so long to notice what she was really up to?

Oh yeah. It was hot.

We spent about an hour at the visitor’s center, the cafe, and the gift shop, then headed to our slightly-more-planned stop at the Lake Mead Recreational Area visitor’s center so Earl could get another Junior Ranger badge. It was quick and easy. And Lake Mead is low and green and beautiful.

But the main event of the day, the one that had Earl asking “Are we there yet?” every three seconds, was Las Vegas. She has never been, and the last time I was in Vegas, I was a mere infant and, from the dramatic stories my mother has told over and over through the years, sick with some spectacular stomach thing the whole time. If I had memories of that trip, it would be long past time to replace them.

I’ve decided I both love and hate this city. It’s just…so much. But for under $100, this was the view from our room at the Mirage, so, really, yeah, I dig it.

To say Earl was itching to get out and explore the city was an understatement. There was no calming the kid, so out we went. We had booked in for a nighttime lights tour which left us only about an hour and a half to wander. Weirdos that we are, we wandered straight across the street to Madame Tussauds. After the train wreck that was Josephine Tussauds, it was high time to introduce Earl to a real wax museum.

The music room was closed, but I was good with that, especially when it meant we both got in for under 30 bucks.

Earl sparred with Muhammed Ali (from a distance).

She putted a (distant) round with Woods and Palmer.

I forgave her for confusing Shaq for Michael Jordan. We don’t really watch NBA, and she’s spent most of her life in Charlotte, after all, where you see MJ on the local sportscast. She loves Shaq now, though, all because of the expression on his face.

Really, Tussauds? you couldn’t do a better job than that on the ‘pit hair? It’s not like you were too worn out from styling his thick and luscious locks.

In the TV personality room, Earl had a (long-distance) interview with Larry King. Always hocking the blog, this one.

And of course, it’s Vegas, so there were a couple of Elvii to pose with (from as far away as possible to still be in the photo).

Duly impressed with the wax, it was time for our night tour of Vegas with OnBoard Tours and our spectacular guide, Renee. And MAN OH MAN the lights! We were both too busy oohing and ahhing to take too many pics, but we snagged a couple.

Earl was most excited about the famous Welcome sign.

I was more impressed by the Walken and More Cowbell Blue Oyster Cult “Don’t Fear the Reaper” playing overhead on Freemont Street.

The tour wrapped up and, with the tour guide’s assurance that we were completely safe on the strip to walk from Bally’s back to the Mirage at 11:00 at night, we set off on the hot 10 minute walk. Earl had just finished telling me, “I could stay here forever. I love Vegas!” when a bottle flew down the sidewalk shattering near a bus 10 feet from us and a couple of guys started throwing punches. Hey, look, Earl! Your first street fight! Welcome to Vegas!

Suddenly, she couldn’t get back to the room fast enough. I really can’t blame her. It was pretty intense for a couple of minutes.

We got back to our room just in time to watch the volcano explode from the window. We’d seen it up close earlier on the tour, getting alternately scorched and soaked by its power and fury, but Earl wanted to see it one last time. After the fight, seeing it from above seemed like the perfect idea.

It worked well. There’s no sleeping with that thing going off every half hour outside your window, anyway.

All in all, Vegas was a win.

And hot.