Showing posts with label Travels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travels. Show all posts

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Las Vegas Day Trips & Staycations


Despite the ridiculously cold weather here in Las Vegas (38 degrees at 10:30 a.m.… seriously?), I was out and about today. I gave a talk at the Summerlin Library about Las Vegas Day Trips and Staycations—one of my favorite topics.

Luckily, I had my husband with me, because later on—on the drive to lunch at Due Forni—I got to ask him, “Did I mention that Death Valley is the largest National Park in the Lower 48?”

“No,” he said, "You missed that," which opened the door for us to talk about all those little details that I had intended to share, but had missed during my talk. What can I say? So many fabulous places to describe, so little time.

If you were at the talk today, here are some extra details, along with links to the official sites for all the places I talked about. And if you weren’t at the talk, well, just imagine a slightly out-of-breath woman is reading the text to you, and it will be kind of like you were there.

In the late 1970s, the BLM issued permits for oil drilling in Red Rock, but fortunately that idea was squashed.


The Park hosts Civil War reenactments every year for Nevada Day, and throughout the year they regularly hold living history and pioneer events. (Interesting side note: Since our State Day is October 31, I grew up thinking Halloween was a holiday. One of the many oddities of being raised in Las Vegas.)


Twenty-four of Ash Meadows’ plants and animals can be found nowhere else on earth, giving Ash Meadows the highest concentration of endemic life in any local area in the United States.


Experts now say that St. Thomas, the town that was under Lake Mead for over 60 years, is not expected to ever be underwater again.


Grafton was part of what was known as the Mormon Cotton Mission, an unsuccessful attempt at cotton farming along the Virgin River. 


Okay, you already know that it’s the largest national park outside of Alaska. But did you know that the famous Harmony Borax Works were only open for 5 years?


Curtis Howe Springer named his spa Zzyzx because he wanted it to be “the last word” in health (which might have been really catchy, except that he was a fraud.)

Links to information about the other places I talked about today:

Lake Las Vegas hotels: Ravella, Westin, Aston MonteLago

How many of these places have you visited?

Many thanks to the library and everyone who came to my presentation!

All pictures by Terrisa Meeks

Tuesday, January 08, 2013

China Ranch Date Farm in Tecopa


A few years ago, I made a solo trip to the China Ranch Date Farm in Tecopa, California.

Technically speaking, it’s not a good idea to go traipsing about in the desert alone—but I’m a trained professional. I’m supposed to go do that kind of stuff. Really.

At China Ranch, I walked all over the grounds—so picturesque—and discovered I still don’t like dates.


 Away from the rows of palms, I followed an unmarked trail that led me into beautiful, wild desert.


And since I was alone, I got to stop and take all the pictures I wanted without the non-stop background commentary (also known as complaining) from my son about how many pictures I was taking (like one below of a gnarled bit of weathered wood).


One of these days, I’ll make it back to Tecopa and the Date Farm. Maybe next time I'll even bring someone with me. 

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

The 40th Anniversay of the Classic Movie, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid











Okay, I admit it--I have a special fondness for Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, the classic movie starring Paul Newman and Robert Redford. It's the first movie I remember seeing at the theater, and I was hooked from the opening credits until the final scene.

When I started exploring back roads and ghost towns around Las Vegas, I was delighted to find that part of the movie was shot near Las Vegas, in and around Zion National Park. Some of the scenes of Etta's home were filmed in the ghost town of Grafton, Utah. I became determined to find Grafton, and although I had to dig through maps and even get a little lost while searching for it, it was worth the effort. (I also found that Butch, Sundance, and Etta weren't the only actual historical characters mentioned in the movie. I was researching Caliente, Nevada, for an article and discovered that E.H. Harriman, who is mentioned frequently in the movie as the outraged railroad magnate, was involved in a railroad dispute in Caliente in the late 1800s.)

Here are some of my pictures, taken on a visit to Grafton a couple of years ago. Grafton is just outside Springdale and Zion, about a two-hour drive from Las Vegas. The turn-off is not well-marked, and private individuals own much of the land in and around the ghost town. You'll see working farms and cattle wandering around if you visit. ~Photo information, from top to bottom: The Grafton Schoolhouse, which is being restored-- watch the movie and you'll see it in the background behind Etta's house; the privately owned home that is allegedly the place where the scenes of Butch (Paul Newman) and Etta (Katharine Ross) riding a bicycle were filmed; and two other buildings around Grafton--in sepia, in honor of the movie.~

Friday, February 27, 2009

Six Hours From Las Vegas

When I worked on my Australian Job Application video, I looked at a lot of pictures before I picked the shots that made it into the video. Some of the pictures on this clip were shots I considered for my video, and some are just pictures I love. Every one of them is a place within a six-hour drive of Las Vegas. Take 30 seconds to enjoy a clip of Travels with T!

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

The Australian Job

No, The Australian Job is not the new Mark Wahlberg movie or a euphemism for activities that might take place in a Nye County establishment. It’s a six-month caretaker/blogger job on Hamilton Island, which sits on the Great Barrier Reef off the coast of Queensland, Australia. I just uploaded my video application to their website, but since the job posting closes on Saturday, I’m not sure when (or if) my video will be viewable.

To learn more about Hamilton Island and this incredible job, check out their website at:
http://www.islandreefjob.com/#/home

UPDATE: My application has been accepted! Please visit my page on the Tourism Queensland website--you can vote for my video: http://www.islandreefjob.com/#/applicants/watch/D8rOg45_hig

_______________

Music in my video is courtesy of http://www.purple-planet.com/

Friday, January 09, 2009

The Kelso Sand Dunes

A few months ago, I got an e-mail from a gal who was wondering if she could hike at the Dumont Sand Dunes. No. It’s an ATV area (aka OHV Area), which is great if you like quads and sand rails, but it’s not a place to do any hiking. Fortunately, Dumont is only one set of sand dunes in the vicinity of Las Vegas. If you’d rather hike the dunes than ride over them, head south from Dumont into the Mojave National Preserve and check out the Kelso Sand Dunes.

In the summer months, Kelso is too hot to explore, but from about November through May, hikers can explore sand dunes that are closed to off-road vehicles. The hike to the top of the 700-foot sand dunes is one of my favorite hikes because you can slide down the face of the dunes when you start your journey back to the car. If you’re lucky, you’ll hear the dunes “booming.” Kelso is one of only 30 sand dunes world-wide that create this rumbling vibration that you can hear and feel.

Last spring I saw the Kelso Dunes in bloom, right at sunset. The evening primrose perfumed the air, and the afternoon light put shadows on the dunes’ faces. While the other desert flowers were closing, the primrose covered the ground in big white blossoms.

Photo Information: My pictures at the Kelso Sand Dunes in April 2008.

Saturday, January 03, 2009

Zzyzx: The Spa in the Mojave

When the Mojave National Preserve was created in 1994, I remember being a little unsure about what, exactly, we were preserving. (This was before I discovered the MNP.) Then the urban landscape overtook the desert around Las Vegas. I’m glad now that something was set aside before the entire Mojave Desert was covered in Wal-Marts and tract homes.

Last year, my family visited Zzyzx. Today it’s home to a desert research group, but the remains of the former spa built by Curtis Howe Springer still stand. In 1944, Springer filed a mining claim on the land and proceeded to build several buildings, including a spa and hotel. The only problem was that the land was never officially his. The BLM took the property back in 1974.

The abandoned buildings on the edge of the dry Soda Lake are slowly being claimed by the desert. A boat embedded between two palms sits next to the horseshoe pit. The vast dry lake bed sits white and flat for miles, just beyond a spring-fed pond ringed with palms. The old spa’s outdoor pools still hold water. Through windowpanes without walls, the Providence Mountains rise in the background.

This was my favorite photo trip from 2008, but the pictures were never posted because about ten days after these pictures were taken in April, my mother got very ill; on May 6, she passed away. On this particular day, however, my only concern was how to find the best photograph on a beautiful spring day.
____________
Photo Information: My photographs of Zzyzx.

Friday, December 05, 2008

Joshua Tree National Park: Breezier Than Expected







This year, my family went out of town for the Thanksgiving holiday. I had a couple of places in Southern California I wanted to explore, and Joshua Tree National Park was one of them. Since it’s only about 140 miles east of Los Angeles, it is a heavily visited park, but last week, on the day after Thanksgiving, the lines at the entrance weren’t too long. The weather might have had something to do with it. Instead of the forecasted 70° and sunny, it was 50° and windy.

In addition to plenty of Joshua Trees, as you would imagine, the park also features lots of rocks. As soon as my son saw the granite boulders piled in heaps and mounds, he wanted to get out of the car and climb. We parked at the first turnout. My husband and son were headed to the rocks before I was out of the truck. The wind was cold, so I had to put on a sweater before I explored anything. Not many people seemed bothered by the cold. Families were picnicking, a group of mountaineers was giving lessons on climbing with ropes, and bicyclists explored the dirt paths through the desert. I was sizing up photo opportunities when my husband hurried over to me.

“I ripped my pants,” David announced when he got close to me. “And not in the back.” This might have been a minor setback, if only he had been wearing underwear.

At first, I was no help because I couldn’t stop laughing. David didn’t even have a jacket, so I offered him my sweater to tie around his waist. He declined. “I really wanted to climb with Cameron,” he groused, as we watched our son scampering over the rocks.

As soon as Cameron descended from the rocks, he started an endless string of jokes about Dad’s ripped britches, beginning with, “Dad, you really went ‘nuts’ on that rock!” Since he’s 10, nothing could have been funnier (unless it involved gas).

The next stop on our trip through Joshua Tree was the Keys Trail, where a panoramic vista allows you to see the San Andreas Fault and the Salton Sea. We confabbed in the truck before getting out.

“Do you have any duct tape?” I asked David. (Personally, I believe no vehicle should be without it.) “You could tape it on the inside,” I suggested.

“Well, I’m not going to tape it on the outside!” David exclaimed. I thought he was objecting to looking like he had a duct tape jock strap on the outside of his jeans, but he told me he was more worried about the sticky side of the tape adhering to delicate body parts. We had no need to debate the questions any further, though, because he didn’t have any duct tape. “You can be sure I will have some, next time we go anywhere,” David said.

“How about a towel? You’ve got towels in here,” I said. I was thinking that perhaps he could put the towel on the inside of his pants, as a sort of inner shield, but he vetoed that idea also. “How am I going to look walking around with a towel stuffed in my pants?”

“I would think it’s better than the alternative,” I said, but he refused. I suppose a man’s got to keep some sense of fashion, even when faced with public indecency. He made do with careful positioning of the rip and holding his hands in front of him.

Our visit at the overlook was quick. The brisk winter wind cut through my clothes, and when the clouds covered the sun, I lost all interest in looking at the Fault, the Sea, and the cloud of smog rolling our way from L.A.

Our next stop was for lunch. We ate in the truck, since the wind was too chilly for any of us to want to eat outside, even if David hadn’t had a wardrobe malfunction. David was determined to find a way to climb on the rocks with Cameron, and he finally decided to use a towel in football-player/loin-cloth style, hooking the white towel in his waistband so it covered the front of his pants. With a clothing solution he could finally live with, David headed off with Cameron to explore some rocks. It was too cold for me to care about climbing, so I snapped pictures by the trailhead and stayed in the truck to keep warm.

When my men returned to the truck, they were exhilarated. David was disappointed that he’d forgotten to take his camera. The late afternoon sun was just right for pictures, and the crowds were thinning. “I think I ripped my pants some more,” he told me after he sat down, lifting his strategically placed towel to flash me. “What do you think?”

“I was just wondering how I’ll explain to your mother that we’re going to be back a day late because I had to bail you out of jail for indecent exposure,” I told him.

A few hours later, we were back in Barstow, where we were staying. Fortunately, in addition to a Holiday Inn, Barstow also has a Levi's store.
__________________________
Photo information: My pictures at Joshua Tree. The first photo (top to bottom) was taken at the turnout where the ripped jeans occurred.

Friday, November 07, 2008

Las Vegas to Amarillo: 12.5 Hours

I took a trip to Texas a few weeks ago. Two days of driving eastbound on I40 takes you directly into Amarillo, Texas, but I’m a scenic route kind of gal, so that 12.5 hours was only the tip of the driving iceberg for me.

This Vegas Girl may be a Vegas native, but both my parents were Texans by birth. My dad avoided admitting he was from Texas; my mother was a proud Texan all her life. I remembered Texas as our eternal summer vacation destination, a place full of farmland, grasshoppers, armadillos, aunt and uncles, and snakes. When I added up the time it had been since my last road trip to Texas, I was shocked to find it had been 18 years. The most notable change since then has to be the wind farms, which I noticed throughout New Mexico and Texas. Giant wind turbines sit in rows far out on the flat plains and atop mesas. They’re fascinating and out-of-place, and they’re almost pretty.

During this road trip, we visited the Petrified Forest, Palo Duro Canyon, and Montezuma’s Castle. We spent time with several friends and family members in Lefors, Lubbock, and Lamesa, with a stop in Amarillo. I finally got a chance to wander around the countryside with a camera. (On those long-ago childhood trips to Texas, Dad did not permit stops. For anything.)

My first stop was in Lefors, just north of Pampa. Over the next week, I drove south about 250 miles, with a stop in Lubbock, to Lamesa, the town closest to the farm my mother grew up on; then I returned to Lefors before making the trip home. The country along the farm roads is beautiful; fields of crops and grassland stretch to the horizon with occasional bursts of rock outcroppings. Every 30 miles or so, I ran into a village, many of them with populations well under 1000. It feels lightly inhabited, wide-open and unrushed, and a huge relief from the crush of people in Las Vegas. Lubbock, at 212,000 people, is close to the same size as Las Vegas was when I graduated from high school.

After a week and half, I had to come home. My husband was out of frozen food and my son was homesick. My mom-in-law, Bonnie, and I were ready to keep on going, but we knuckled under to the pleadings of our two males. Besides, we’re already talking about driving back in spring. Our journey was both brief and fun, and many green dots--they mark the scenic routes--are left to explore. As a child in the backseat of the station wagon, Texas felt as far away as the moon. This time, it felt like a quick trip. Isn’t it strange how age changes our perception—of everything?


Photo information: Above, a water crossing at Palo Duro Canyon, which is the second largest canyon in the United States. Below: the Petrified Forest; the view into Palo Duro; on a trail at Palo Duro; FM669 southbound (click to enlarge--notice the wind turbines in the background); Montezuma's Castle in Arizona, just outside the Cottonwood/Sedona area; and the area at the base of Montezuma's Castle. The sycamores are changing colors for the fall. All photos are mine, of course.
















Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Looking for Las Vegas Info?

Newcomers to Las Vegas tend to complain about a lack of non-gambling things to do. If you’re waiting for friendly advice from your neighbors on day trip destinations, or for an invite from co-workers to a barbeque, well… I hate to break the news to you, but chances are you won’t have much luck.

The best way to uncover things to do around here is to pick up a paper. Of course, you can always check here at the Vegas Girl Blog, but for a truly comprehensive listing of everything that might be happening in the valley, you might want to bookmark a couple of mass-media web pages like the Review Journal’s Neon, CityLife, and Las Vegas Weekly.

A couple of new entries into this category are BLVDS Magazine and the Home News, which publishes neighborhood-specific papers for communities throughout Southern Nevada. Visit the Las Vegas Sun’s page and scroll down to find a neighborhood.
____________________
Photo courtesy of Svilen Mushkatov at bigphoto1.blogspot.com

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

The Historic Five Tunnels Railroad Hiking Trail







If you like hiking, biking, history, or railroads, you’ll enjoy the Railroad Hiking Trail at Lake Mead. Hikers and bikers will appreciate the trail’s level surface (a rare find in these parts). History buffs will appreciate walking the same route that the trains traveled as they ferried supplies to Boulder Dam’s construction site—in 1931, trains and railroads were the only feasible way to transport the massive amounts of materials needed to build the dam. And if you are a lover of railroads… well, you are in luck. Either before or after your hike, make sure to stop in Boulder City to visit the Nevada State Railroad Museum on Yucca Street where you can view and ride historic trains.

Since it’s still a little warm for hiking in desert, it’s best to do the Railroad Trail early. (You can also wait a couple of months so the heat won’t be an issue.) My poor son said I “tormented” him because he thought it was just too warm to hike. Personally, I think the problem has more to do with his love of the sofa. The trail originally ended at the last tunnel, but now extends all the way to Hoover Dam. We didn’t make it that far. My Drill Sergeant Mom approach got my griping hiker past the fifth tunnel, but when I surveyed the trail down to the dam, I knew that I’d be listening to Level 5 Complaining if we continued.

Bring water and sunscreen to hike the Railroad Trail; binoculars would also be good to have. From the vantage point of the trail, Lake Mead’s low levels are painfully obvious. You can also see two relocated marinas from the trail. From the trailhead to the fifth tunnel is approximately a five-mile round trip.
___________________
Photo Information: My photos of the Railroad Trail.

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

Cathy Scott Launches Pawprints of Katrina

On July 26, Las Vegas author Cathy Scott held a book launch for her most recent book, Pawprints of Katrina: Pets Saved and Lessons Learned, at the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, located just outside Kanab, Utah. The Sanctuary’s Visitor’s Center is the beautiful place you see in this picture. Back in Hollywood’s earlier days, this area was an outpost for filmmakers. (According to IMDb, 26 movies were filmed at the Kanab Movie Ranch, which was formerly located here.)

Cathy is a journalist with an impressive background, a true reporter who I’ve found has a keen eye and a determination to uncover the facts. She was on the ground in the Gulf after Katrina, working with the dedicated volunteers and staff of Best Friends to help rescue the animals left behind, stranded, and separated from their families—and to document their stories, which she tells us now in Pawprints.

The first person who read my copy was my mother-in-law. (Hey, she agreed to babysit overnight, so she got first dibs on the book.) I asked her yesterday what she thought. She told me she’d had no idea how bad it was for the animals after Katrina. “So I take it that means I should read this book with tissue nearby?” I asked her.

“Oh yeah,” she said. “But it’s not because all of it’s sad. It’s also touching.” So, animal lovers, you’ve been warned. Pick up an extra box of Puffs next time you’re at the store.

I have to confess that my husband and I were so enchanted with the Sanctuary that we didn’t spend much time at the book launch after we bought our copy of Pawprints. Sprocket the potbellied pig (isn't he adorable?) was standing outside, so we hung out with him. We looked at the line for the book signing, and then we wandered back toward the koi pond, a picturesque scene complete with blooming lily pads. The horse corrals beckoned in the distance. An inviting walkway wound past the front of the Visitor’s Center, where the hummingbird feeders were attracting more hummingbirds than I have ever seen in one location. Soon, my husband and I were meandering down the walkway, toward the corrals with the goats and horses. What can I say? We didn’t meet Ali McGraw, who wrote Cathy’s foreword, but take a look below at some of the beauties we met instead.


Wednesday, July 30, 2008

The Search For Cool





I’m not talking about smooth-talking, Jager-drinking, John Travolta cool… I’m talking about mountains, greenery, and bunny rabbits cool. Sitting outside and drinking lemonade cool. Not feeling faint when you leave air conditioning cool. This time of year, everyone is searching for a break from the heat. My favorite escape is the beach, but the mountains are nice, too. Finding any cooler temps around Las Vegas requires a long drive, but about an hour will take you to Mt. Charleston. (Keep in mind that about half of Las Vegas’ 2 million residents get the idea to head to Mt. Charleston on most summer weekend mornings, so you might want to try a weekday instead.)

Last year about this time, my son and I hiked the Cathedral Rock Trail in Kyle Canyon. The trail cuts across an avalanche field as it climbs to the top of Cathedral Rock, and last year the trail bore fresh evidence of an avalanche. Splintered trees had been flung down the mountain like pick-up sticks. A creative chain-sawer carved a bench from a downed log (picture above).

Mt. Charleston offers camping and picnic areas in both Kyle and Lee Canyons. Trails can be found throughout both canyons, and more intrepid hikers will want to make an assault on the Mt. Charleston summit, which is just under 12,000 feet. I’ve been there, and I’ll tell you two things: the view is stunning, and the trail’s rating of “strenuous” is putting it mildly. For those who would rather wear their hiking boots as a fashion statement instead of a necessity, Kyle Canyon is also home to two lodges: The Hotel on Mt. Charleston and the Mt. Charleston Lodge . Both facilities come complete with bars and restaurants—no hiking required.

If you don’t mind a longer drive (three to four hours), you can explore plenty of high altitudes in Utah, Arizona, and California. Check out Cedar Breaks and Brian Head in Utah, Big Bear and Lake Arrowhead in California, and the city of Flagstaff, Arizona. A six-hour drive will take you to Sequoia National Park in California, where the trees are so large they defy description. ____________________
Photo information: My pictures of Cathedral Rock Trail, August 2007

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

The Dumont Dunes (Or How I Didn't Get My Hamburger)

When I arrived at the Dumont Dunes on Sunday, I was hungry and a little nervous. You've probably seen some Dumont regulars around Las Vegas: you know, all those pick-up driving, trailer-toting drivers with "Got Sand?" stickers in their rear windows. I do my best to stay out of their way around town, but the closer Highway 127 gets to the dunes, the harder that becomes. Dumont is one of the places ATVers travel to, along with thousands of their friends, to camp in a huge city that comes complete with law enforcement, medi-vac service, and the place I was most interested in, Hog Heaven, where a good, old-fashioned hamburger oozing with loads of fat, along with a yummy order of french fries, was just waiting to meet me. I had just finished a two-hour walk in the desert at China Ranch, and I was really, really hungry. Sadly, this is the story of how I never got my hamburger.

At the appointed rendezvous time of 2:00 p.m., I pulled to the side of the road to await my husband. He and our son were spending the day at the dunes, and I had come up with the idea to go hiking and then meet them out there. When I came up with this idea, I had no idea that getting to and from sand camp was such a pain in the rear. A long line of cars clogged the dirt road. Now, had I been thinking straight, I would have realized that this was going to throw off my original plans, which were for me to leave in plenty of time to drive home in the daylight. I had explained to my dear, loving husband that I cannot see well at night. (Did I mention the winding, two-lane highway?) However, as hungry as I was, I did not care. I figured it would all work out somehow.

Back at sand camp, my hubby's friend Mark was hard at work on his sand vehicle. All I heard was something about "double carburetors." I recall saying, "I would like a hamburger," but after about the third attempt, I gave up. "Would you like some fruit? Why don't you have some fruit?" offered Mark, which was very kind of him. (And in hindsight, I should have taken him up on the offer.) But after a two-hour hike in the desert, I didn't want fruit. I wanted a freakin' cheeseburger, which I kind of thought my husband should have figured out, especially after me saying, "I would like a hamburger" several times.

You cannot walk anywhere in sand camp, unless you want to be run over. I got as close to the dunes (on foot) as I dared. I wanted to get a picture of the vehicles crawling all over the dunes like ants in a giant's sandbox. Dumont is a great place if you are an ATV enthusiast. If you don't ride anything, like me, there's not much to do.

Late in the day, about two hours after I had planned to leave, we hit the road. Mark's sand thing never did get fixed. By the time we left, it was dark. I was ravenous. An ill-mannered pick-up truck driver tailgated me for about 40 miles down the two-lane Old Spanish Trail highway. By the time I got back to town, I hated all pick-up drivers.

And I stopped at Burger King and purchased one (1) hamburger before I went home.