West Coast USA – Day 13 (luck wasn’t on our side)

A lie in at last! I woke at around 5:30am and dozed until 6am. Not bad for me, that!

Very quietly, I tidied the room, packed up the camera/tech rucksack, had a shower and packed my bag. Washed out all the bidons, and the large “souvenir Mirage” drink cups, packed the (not-so) coolbag and hauled all of the above to the car.

With a fair bit of trepidation, I pressed the tailgate button, wondering if anything would happen. Thankfully, the tailgate lifted, and I threw all the bags in.

A quick check that the car started (it did), and a 5 minutes rev of the engine without the aircon, lights, or “entertainment system”, before locking up and heading back to the room.

Jane was up, and delighted that the dodgy GPS meant that without leaving her pit, her Pokemon avatar had walked about half a mile. Not sure what that means, but she was happy, so that’s fine by me.

Now the grotty bit, the long walk through the casino, lobby, walkway, lift and car park, to ditch the remaining bags in the car, before checking out of the hotel, and checking in to Denny’s for one last time (I hope – I’m a tad “Dennied Out”).

After another monster breakfast, that included about 2 litres of Diet Coke, as well as poached eggs on muffins with hash browns, we got back to the car to start our next adventure.

It’s roughly a 3-hour drive from the Mirage to what is now known as the “Oasis at Furnace Creek”, which will be the last time I refer to it as that. It will always be Furnace Creek Ranch to us, it’s name when Jane and I were last there. Which is coincidentally the last time I razor-shaved my bonce (head).

Having set up the sat nav to route us th Furnace Creek via the Extra-Terrestrial Highway, we remembered we needed “supplies” (sweets, crisps, cordial, and water), so I plumbed in the Walmart Super Centre and we set off.

Grabbing fuel on the way ($3.12/US Gal), expecting extortionate rates at Death Valley, we got to the Supermarket in good time. So much so, we were all taken in by the clearance “bargains”, walking out with a “Dri-Fit” lightweight T-shirt ($3) for me & two pairs of cotton shorts for Jane (2x $2). My Dad would be proud! He liked a deal, did Cliff.

Another 20minutes further on, I got spooked by the road we were on. Just didn’t seem right.

Bugger! The satnav has dropped the Extra Testicle Highway for the supermarket. I pulled over to replan.

Unfortunately, the geology ‘round here means that basically between here and the Pacific Coast, the plates got squished up into North/South mountain ranges. Going east-west in a car, well basically you can’t. To go via The Alien Cafe (in Paul, the movie) would be an additional 400 miles/5h driving. No thanks. We carried on, although I was fuming with myself!

We got to the Park and turned South to go to Dante’s View, at over 5,400ft up. At the top, you get (yet more panoramic) views of the whole length of Death Valley, with the Panamint Range of Mountains, in the background. It was a balmy 34°C.

Strange to think that just over half an hour away we’ll be down there, and over 5,500ft lower, and therefore below sea level.

After a nice little hike to an overlook, we got back in the car and headed to Zabriskie Point, a huge Borax field, very yellow in colour, but more pressing, a more than balmy 48°C!

You breathe in and it burns your throat. My sunglasses frames were too hot to touch. As was my camera, and GoPro.

Charlie had stayed in the car (still tired, still teenage!), and we know dogs die in hot cars. No one ever mentions pubescent kids. I presume therefore, they don’t?

Well for once, responsibility kicked in and I followed Janes advice and headed back to the car. And Charlie.

He wasn’t a husk, so we set off the 8 minute drive to our accommodation for the next two nights.

It’s undergoing a big refurb and remodel at the moment, so much so, we couldn’t recognise where we stayed last time, albeit 18 years ago.

Checked in, upper floor room, with nice balcony (which is too hot to sit out on). Filled the ice bucket. And went for tea at the cafe.

Even the few hundred yard walk was almost too much to bear, it’s so hot. Good fun all the same, though.

Nachos with chicken and beef all ‘round, with a pint of West Coast IPA for me, quickly followed by a pint of Ballast Point Sculpin. Both nice, although the West Coast seemed pretty feisty!

Back to the room. Jane did some “dobying” and I went out and took some photos of sunset over the Panamint, from our doorstep Golf Course.

And now to bed! Aiming for another sunrise tomorrow (5:54am), so would need to be set up by 4:30am latest. Also aiming for a Milky Way photo tomorrow night, after sunset, so a long day, with lots of driving in the Park.

Hence calling it a night!

Catch you tomorrow!

Cheers!

West Coast USA – Day 12 (sob, over half way)

Phew! What a relief!

Having only gone to bed at midnight, I was up for 3am. Can’t sleep for three reasons:

  1. I don’t sleep, generally
  2. I’m itchy as feck. Think they use bio washing powder here, which doesn’t agree with my delicate, fair skin!
  3. I’m mithered about the car & battery situation (lack of!)

So I spend an hour reading the manual for our car, and how to unlock it manually. Then I read the small print on the hire agreement. We definitely have “24h mechanical breakdown” cover.

Googling their website, although I can’t find a definition of said cover, I do find their description of “Roadside Assistance Protection” which specifically covers key failures, lockouts and jump starts.

Cool. I decide to get up, get dressed and sort this before anyone else is even up. Wandering through the casino however, I’m reminded that this is a 24×7 environment,and some folk sleep less than me!

I get to Aisle 6A on Floor 6 of Self Park, at the Mirage Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas, Nevada and double check that the emergency key really didn’t work. It didn’t.

I call Alamo Roadside assistance and the lady I spoke to confirmed that it was likely just a battery drop out and she could get someone there within 20 minutes to jump start the car. Fabulous!

“That’ll be a minimum charge of $75 dollars sir. Ok to proceed?”. No, not without a fight, on principle if nothing else. Explaining the 24h breakdown, she rebuffed this. “Yes yo do, sir, but that’s for major stuff. It’s extra to cover the little bits like this”.

Ok. Let’s get on with this and I’ll have to argue the point later. We’ve done nothing wrong. The car battery has probably wilted in this heat, and I wouldn’t blame it. It’s just before 5am and it’s 36deg C!

So, we agreed to disagree and that she would send someone to sort it, and I would argue when I drop off the car.

Less than 25 minutes later a short Hispanic lad turns up in his orange “Pop-A-Lock” van, and he also confirms I’m not being daft, and the emergency key is in a state of emergency, having catastrophically failed to carry out its one job.

He got a small wedge, and slid that into the passenger window rubber. He then got a bigger wedge which created a gap, down which he put a glorified coat hook. In less than a minute, the car was unlocked. Quite scary really!

Now the car was open, up with the bonnet and the portable power pack was connected and another 30 seconds later and I’m in a fully functioning car! Woohoo!

The guy said he felt it was likely that it was a heat-induced drop-out and to run the car for a half hour to get some charge back. His reaction to our next stop being Death Valley didn’t fill me with confidence though.

After he left, I spend the next 45 minutes driving up and down the Strip as the sun rose, charging the battery.

Having parked up again in Aisle 6A on Floor 6 of Self Park, at the Mirage Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas, Nevada (the lady from Alamo required my location to this exacting standard, so who am I to let those slip), I returned to our room, and eventually nodded back off for an hour.

We finally got out of the room at around 10:45 (Charlie being fast asleep again ‘til around 10am), and headed back to Denny’s for breakfast. Why not, we’re on us hols!

A walk up the North Strip up to the relatively new and stylish Wynn Encore, and the across to what turned out to be another Trafford Centre. (*Shoulders slump*).

Charlie decided to spend his holiday money on another pair of black Nike trainers to go with his other three pairs. Meanwhile I began falling asleep stood up. Absolutely knackered.

We made it back to the room just in time for me to lie down and fall asleep properly. Jane and Charlie ducked out from my snoring and went to the pool for an hour or so.

After the obligatory second shower of the day, we walked down to South Strip, where we had tea at the Planet Hollywood Cafe.

Ribs for Charlie, served on a miniature ‘pub beer garden bench’ (no idea why), two staters for Jane, and a Kobe beef Burger for me. All very nice, and washed down with a pint of “Bad Beat – Bluffing isn’t Weisse”.

Jane, who is “Queen of the Full Fat” insisted we called in and had a look around the Coca Cola store, where a souvenir tee-shirt was purchased. Very fitting.

A long walk back passed the fountains at Bellagio, and we headed back, all now knackered.

Having averaged over 18,000 steps per day over our time in Vegas, we’d earned our beds!

Fingers crossed the car starts tomorrow, when we head out chasing Aliens near Area 51, and then head to Death Valley!

Night folks!

West Coast USA – Day 11

Another early start for me, although not quite pre-dawn. As nice as the room is, the pillows are too pillowy for me. Little things, eh.

Oh. And the internet service is crap. The WiFi is great, the internet is great. The connection package is rubbish.

They need to amend the idle-timeout and max-session RADIUS attributes/VSAs. Having to reauthenticate every 60 minutes is a real pain in the arse. Bearing in mind it’s a Class B /29 subnet, the 8190 usable host addresses should be more than enough for DHCP not to be a concern kicking folk off. Sorry. Geek mode kicked in. Apologies!

On with the day…

Got up, downloaded the next 1000 or so photos from yesterday, finish writing & then post the blog.

Next on the agenda, having passed on the opportunity to phone room service for my box of La Colombo Pacific Blend, I wandered through and then out of the Hotel/Casino, crosses the road and bought a McDonalds coffee. Normally one of my “takeaway” favourites in the UK but this must be a different blend. Very bitter.

These two were still in bed when I got back, and Charlie was totally out for the count. Ended up shaking him awake at around 9:30.

Jane was insistent that breakfast today was at Denny’s, conveniently right opposite the hotel. After a 10 minute wait, we were in. Moons over Hammy for me, (egg, cheese & ham toasted sandwich with hash browns), and copious refills of coffee.

From there we sauntered next door to the Venetian. More mooching around this time by a faux canal and gondolas.

Boy there are some weird things for sale in there! “Colon Blow” Cereal, is just one example!

Forgot to mention, last night in Caesars Palace one of the shops was a gallery for a Russian Surrealist artist called Vladimir Kush. Look him up- his work is fantastic! I love the dragonfly riding a motorcycle.

After the Venetian, we wandered back to the hotel, donned our speedos (not really), and headed for the pool. Really nice pool, thankfully some of which was in shade of the 40+ Dev C heat. It as that hot, Almost tea-total Jane knocked back a (strong) 32oz (litre) frozen Margherita!

After a couple of hours, I overheated and we went to get ready to go to Freemont Street, the “bohemian” original casino area of Las Vegas, before the Flamingo area and the Strip were even conceived.

We needed to get there and have tea before 8:20pm so we decided to drive. Off to self park, managed to remember where our car was parked (6C) and went to load up.

And here’s where it goes “tits up”. The car won’t open. Either the remote battery or (more likely) the car battery are dead! Bugger!

I tried to use the emergency key but that won’t budge. Stuck, and under time pressure, we jumped an Uber whist I tried to work out a plan. (We don’t have breakdown cover).

Our driver was really nice, and very informative and helpful. He’s retired and just Uber’s when he wants to pull money to cover his fishing trips!

He told us where to stay around Freemont and where not to go. It’s a bit on the seedy side tbh.

We walked up the touristy “Freemont Street Experience” to be faced with all manner of sights! Charlie didn’t know which way to look!

Street performers, singers, a really fat bloke wearing a g-string, with pink bunny ears on expecting people to drop him cash just for sitting there like a right tool, Elvis and a topless Cherokee Indian squaw, more topless showgirls (with beer bellies, apparently – I didn’t look so wouldn’t know), topless girls, a sixty year old, 4ft10” Wonder Woman, an almost constant smell of weed, a stormtrooper that wanted you to duel him with swords, a man standing on another mans shoulders, homeless people, people pretending to be homeless people (probably), Eddie Murphy on a trolley with his legs strapped up pretending to have no legs. Ok, so not the last one, and maybe I’m too cynical and so not the one before. But you get the gist.

Having run the length of the street and back, we settled on tea at Mickie Finzz. Two for one Tacos for Charlie and I, Clam Chowder for Jane and two “Blue Moon” pints of Dutch courage for me!

Why the flip did we come here, you may ask! Because at 8:20pm, Charlie and I checked in at our designated flight boarding time, and headed up 11 storeys to be shot down a zip line that runs the full length of Freemont Street.

We checked in early to get our white wrist bands, to be told that I wouldn’t be allowed on with my GoPro, which was on a “wristie” (elastic Velcro Strap and plate that you can use when skydiving to film from your wrist).

Bugger that, I thought! Off we went and $9.99 later, I was the proud owner of one of the worst looking, tasteless, tacky, souvenir, fleecy LONG SLEEVED sweatshirts, which I duly donned despite the still 40deg C heat.

Sweating like a glass-blowers arse, we checked in, and I did all manner of distracting things when being suited up for my “flight”. Charlie was ashamed. Just ashamed.

“Sir, lie on the bed, face down and spread your legs”. Not again! We were harnessed up, the “beds” dropped away from us leaving us in a Superman pose (except for my bulbous left wrist that was tucked under my chest, out of sight).

As the doors in front of us fell away to reveal the 11-storey drop below and Freemont Street room stretching into the distance, I pressed the on switch, then the record button, saw the confirmatory flashing rouge light, and whipped my sleeve back just as he pressed the release button. Beat you, you miserable buggers!

I have film of Charlie and I flying down Freemont Street just below the roof line being waved at by the drunks, homeless, strippers, and Eddie Murphy, as we shot by!

I’d got one over on the system! This made for a minor consolation prize, prior to probably having to pay some hideous extortionist to get the Car back up and running, before we leave the day after!

A quick change out of my now sweaty sweatshirt, and another Uber.

Our driver, William is from Kenya. He’s been here for 5 years, likes America, but prefers the UK, although doesn’t fancy snow, and gets confused as to which side of the road to drive when he goes home.

He’s a Chelsea fan and would really rather be taxiing around Stamford Bridge, and have a season ticket, although he was shocked that a Man City season ticket may set someone back $1000 a season. Imagine his surprise when I explained Chelsea tickets were even more!

He was also really nice and we had a laugh. Dropped of at our hotel, I bid him farewell and said I hoped they lost their next competitive match (Charity Shield, against Man City next Sunday).

Back to our hotel having still not seen any of the Strip shows (e.g Bellagio Fountains etc, not that kind of strip show).

Maybe one for tomorrow evening, but only once we have a working vehicle!

Night all!