Vintage Vegas Crime: Dead & Stinky

I try to keep my crime stories to myself, but sometimes they just come up. Last week, for instance, my friend and co-worker was grief-stricken over the death of a beloved pet.

Early in the day, she said, “Tell me something gruesome so I won’t be sad.”

(I worked for Las Vegas Metro for over 20 years. I wasn’t a cop, but I did work in the Crime Lab's office for 10 years. Yes, that Lab, before “CSI.” I have a few gruesome stories, and my friend loves true crime.)

“Dismemberment would be good,” she suggested.

So I told her about the dismembered body in the car that was towed into the Lab’s garage. In summer.  

On that hot day, a white sedan was unloaded into the garage. The smell of dead body filled our building almost immediately.

The door to the garage was directly across the hall from the door to our conference room. So, behind one door we had the very smelly car with the parts of a chopped-up person in the trunk (legs and arms and such), and behind the other door we had a conference room full of left-over food from a party we’d had at lunch.

Everyone in my office knew that one of us was going to have to go down there, brave the stinky dead body fumes, and put the food away. 

While we were in the midst of avoiding the inevitable task of cleaning up the left-overs, our Captain’s secretary staggered into my office. I’ll call her Pam.

“WHAT IS THAT SMELL?” she gasped, hand over her nose, eyes watering. “And HOW are you all WORKING?”

We summarized: dead body parts in a trunk, 110°, garage.

Pam was a veteran Metro employee, but she had only been in the Lab for a couple of years. We had also just moved into a new building with a garage attached to our offices. For several previous years, we’d enjoyed a building with a detached garage, an arrangement everyone preferred for just this reason.

“Try rubbing Vicks under your nose,” I told her. “Open your door. Turn on your fan. You’ll get used to it.”

Unconvinced, Pam went back to her office.

A few minutes later, my peripheral vision picked up something outside my window. I took a closer look.  In front of our building, out by the parking lot, Pam was leaning against a handicapped parking sign in an “I might pass out” sort of way.

I walked outside and asked her if she was okay. “I don’t know how all of you are working,” she told me.

“Does this mean you won’t be helping me clean up the food in the conference room?” I asked her.

(I know, I know. I couldn’t help myself. That was mean. Shame on me.)

Pam looked seriously nauseous.  I don’t remember if she answered my question, and I’m pretty sure she went home early. I went back inside and cleaned up the conference room.

Later on that day, after the car was towed away and the garage was hosed down, someone from a local government agency (whoever it was that got all the calls from the people in an apartment complex just east of our building) showed up to ask questions about what was generating such an awful smell. My Captain smiled at the guy, showed him her badge, and shooed him away.

If I recall correctly, the man responsible for the dismemberment was eventually convicted, probably at least in part because of the evidence collected that stinky day.

I had to think of more stories throughout the day to distract my pal from thinking about her dearly departed dog friend. After another dismemberment tale and a couple of murders, I was able to segue from gruesome to funny. Clearly, however, sometimes you can have both.

Are you a fan of true crime or police stories?

____________________

Photo courtesy of Alan Cleaver at flickr

Hiking in Las Vegas: The Countdown to Summer

If you love hiking at Red Rock like I do, you probably know that the time to enjoy mild temperatures is rapidly coming to a close. The searing temperatures of summer will be here soon.

I’m determined to take advantage of every bit of spring before Nature turns the broiler on, so this past weekend I got out for hikes on both Saturday and Sunday.

Saturday: A Great View

On Saturday, I took the team (my son and our dog) to a trail near 13 Mile Campground (also known as Red Rock Campground). We’d decided to climb a small hill there (about 200 feet, according to the topo map, although I thought it looked higher than that). Saturday was cool and windy, which we were glad for not long after we set out.

The trail starts at an abused patch of desert filled with uprooted yuccas and dog droppings, but beyond that the trail leads uphill and into the desert. The land gradually gains altitude with three hills that gently increase in height. At the crest of the first hill, there’s a great view of Red Rock’s cliffs and Calico Basin.

Atop the second hill, a four-foot rock cairn greets you.

And at the very top—which is composed of volcanic rock (in sharp contrast to the sandstone found throughout Red Rock)—the Strip rises far to the east, the massive buildings tiny in the distance.

When we got back to the car (two hours later), Gigi, our dog, was worn out. She climbed in the backseat and laid down without waiting for water. The look on her face was plain: “That was great, but I’m bushed. Bring the water to me.” (She’s kind of a princess.) She gulped down three bowlfuls, then belched and went to sleep. Ah, to be a dog.

Sunday: Bouldering in Ash Canyon

On Sunday, my son and I decided to leave Gigi at home because we wanted to do some rock scrambling. Gigi believes (incorrectly) that she’s a mountain goat (or perhaps a Big Horn sheep), so she had to stay at home because I don’t like broken legs.

My son and I went back to Ash Canyon, where we’d had to turn around the week before (due to Gigi the Goat Dog and my whole anti-broken-leg stance).  This time, my son and I bouldered up the wash until we had to go up and around.

Once upon a time, in my previous life as an uber-prepared hiker, I would have had a trail guide with exact directions. Not anymore. I’d done a cursory Google search, so I knew we had to climb out of the wash eventually, but I couldn’t remember if it was the trail on the left or the right side of the canyon.  We chose the left.

By the time we encountered an imposing shelf of sandstone that made me say, “Sorry, but I’m not climbing up that,” we were both ready to turn around and come back.

“I think we should only hike one day of the weekend,” my son commented. “I’m kind of worn out.”

“Probably,” I said, thinking about the chores I had waiting at home.

But the day was clear, the skies a brilliant blue against the red rocks, birds were singing, and the trees were budding. I decided it would have been a shame to have wasted such a day on chores.

“We live in a beautiful place,” my son said several times on the way back.

“Yes, we do,” I agreed. “We certainly do.”

Have you been out to enjoy the desert while the weather’s still nice?

Calico Basin & The Rock Scrambling Dog

For some reason, I assumed that dogs possessed a natural instinct about how to safely navigate rocky terrain. I thought they had some inborn dog wisdom about behaving sanely around heights.

I was wrong. From what I observed on Sunday, my dog thinks she is a mountain goat. 

In the early afternoon, we (my son, the dog, and I) set out for a hike from the Sandstone Road Trailhead in Calico Basin. The area is heavily visited, which normally is something I avoid, but Gigi was delighted. She’s an extroverted canine. “New people? New dogs? And hiking!? If only you’d brought Beggin’ Strips, the day would be perfect!”

Gigi led us up the wide gravel trail toward Ash Canyon. We saw a photo shoot going on just off the trail, with the model (who was wearing black stiletto heels, a sequined bra, and extreme short-shorts) perched atop an impressive chunk of sandstone. In the distance and up high, rock climbers were hanging off the cliffs (which in comparison looked much harder, except for the high heels).

We continued past a rock labyrinth (the largest one I’ve seen so far in Red Rock), through a marshy area, and headed up Ash Canyon.

When a bit of light bouldering was required, I laughed when Gigi hopped over rocks. I mean, she looked adorable. I think I said something out loud to that effect.

When the bouldering got tougher, I climbed up, looking for a way around the boulders that were too high for Gigi. I stopped at a slab of sandstone that I wasn’t sure any of us could get around. “I don’t think we can get through this way,” I told my son, who was also checking out other routes.

Gigi must have thought I said, “Come this way!” because she charged around me, clambered up the rock, then slid down the sandstone like she was in some Canine X Games event.

“Yeah, I can see how she can’t get through this way,” my son commented.

“How’s she going to get back out of there?” I asked him. After surfing down four feet of sandstone, Gigi had landed in a pocket of scrub trees and gravel.

“Good point,” my son said.

Gigi was cheerfully unbothered by her position, and she managed to scramble up and out after a couple of tries. But had she learned that her lack of opposable thumbs (or hooves) was a major disadvantage when it came to rock scrambling? Nope. She soon was trying to scale the rocks ahead of us.

After having visions of carrying an injured dog back to the car (a 50 pound dog, by the way), I decided we needed to turn around.

Once we were on level ground, we met up with two other hikers on their way back to the trailhead. Gigi trotted happily in front of us. One of the hikers told me, “She reminds me of a dog I had named Foolish. He hiked with me in Alaska.” The hiker had seen Gigi trying to tip-toe along the side of a drop-off while we were still in the canyon.

Back at the car, Gigi the Goat Dog had a big drink of water before stretching out in the back seat and falling asleep. After finding out that all my assumptions about dogs and rock scrambling were wrong, I was just relieved that we hadn’t incurred any vet bills.

Do you hike with your dog? 

Finding Sloan Canyon

Over the weekend, I decided to take advantage of the beautiful weather (70°, sunny, a few photogenic clouds—a glimpse of spring) to drag my hubby out of the house to go find Sloan Canyon.

A co-worker of mine had told me that Sloan Canyon was easy to find, with “plenty” of signage. “I used to go there for school field trips,” he told me. 

What my young co-worker should have said was that there IS signage at Sloan Canyon. Plentiful? Not so much.

This is the turn-off to Sloan Canyon. That marker is the first “signage” we spotted after leaving paved roads.

From what I’ve read, Sloan Canyon’s limited accessibility is no accident. The area holds rare petroglyphs and striking volcanic rock formations. Because of the increase in vandalism and theft in areas like Sloan Canyon, the BLM keeps information about the canyon to a minimum and isn’t planning to increase accessibility much.

This weekend I didn’t get to see the petroglyphs in Sloan Canyon, but not because of the remote, rugged road or the rock scrambling required to reach what’s been described as “the Sistine Chapel of rock art.” No, I didn’t get to see that part of the canyon because my three hiking companions each quit on me, even the dog.

The first one to stop hiking was my husband, who had major surgery just a few months ago. About 40 minutes into our hike, we encountered a rocky obstacle on the trail. He sat down and announced he was done for the day. Absence totally excused.

Right after I lost companion #1, my teenage son made his own announcement. “I’m hungry and I don’t want to go any further,” followed by, “Can we stop somewhere on the way home and get something to eat? Can we leave now? Aren’t we done hiking? Haven’t we looked at enough rocks?” And so on and so forth.

So I left those two at the outcropping and continued on with Gigi, our dog.

Soon, Gigi’s tail was drooping, her head was hanging, and she was giving me that look, the one that says, “Can we go home now so I can sleep on the sofa until tomorrow?” (We later found Gigi had a paw injury—apparently not uncommon as we ran into a couple with a dog who also had an injured paw.)

I regarded the canyon in front of me. I wanted to keep on hiking. However, it was obvious that on this day I wasn’t going to see much more of Sloan Canyon.  At least I could say I’d found it. The petroglyphs would have to wait for another day.

Gigi and I turned around. At the outcropping, the tired and hungry (and bored) males were tossing pebbles at each other.

Before long, we were in the Jeep, headed home.

Have you been to Sloan Canyon? 

Vintage Vegas Pics: The Days When Lake Mead Had No Bathtub Ring

I was searching through my family pictures this evening, and in between the tintypes and Texas farm houses, I found a handful of these shots taken in 1983, when Lake Mead’s spillways were put to use for one of only two times (the first being when Hoover Dam was built).

Some unknown person from my family captured these shots of the water not long after it first started cresting the sides. Later on, misty waterfalls were created by the water rushing over the spillways. 

The intake towers look like they're floating on top of the water, and you’ll notice there’s not a trace of bathtub ring around Lake Mead,

Today, we’ve got rock outcroppings in front of the spillways. Both the old family photo above and the 2012 shot below are of the Nevada Intake Towers. Quite a transformation, isn’t it?

Recent photo of Hoover Dam, Nevada Side Spillway, courtesy of Gnaphron at Flickr. 

Scroll to the bottom of this page from Missouri University, and you'll see photos of the spillways in full waterfall. 

Were you here in 1983? Did you see the spillways turn into waterfalls?

Las Vegas on a Sunday Afternoon

Did your weekend go by too fast? Mine certainly did. Before I knew it – Poof! – Monday morning had arrived and I was driving to work, thinking about my awesome Sunday.

The Scene on Sunday:

A winter afternoon in Las Vegas: blue skies and 70°. The hubby and I have agreed that we don’t care about the football game. It’s 1pm and I say…

Me:    Let’s go to Sloan Canyon.

Hubby:   It’s too late.  

 [Grimacing, making faces at the clock.]

 You have to catch me early.

Me:     I don’t like early.

 [Resisting the urge to point out that it’s only 1pm.]

Hubby:     But you know I like to do things early.

Me:   [Short sigh before realizing this means an hour-long walk alone. Smile and say…]

 Guess I’ll go for a walk. 

Where’s your favorite place to go for a walk on a Sunday afternoon? 

Looking at Old Pictures & Wondering, “Where Was This?”

I thought it might be interesting to dig around my old photo albums (yes, I’m talking film here) for some vintage Vegas pictures. I seem to have every photo I’ve ever taken, so I hoped I'd find some gems.

I sorted through my albums, searching for pictures of Vegas in days gone by. The yield was grim. In those pre-digital, pre-blogging days, I was foolishly taking pictures of my friends instead of documenting the city (and desert) that would soon disappear.

However, I did uncover a bonus of sorts: photos of travels from many years ago, so many years ago, in fact, that some of my photos left me wondering, “Where was this?”

I Knew It Was At Lake Tahoe, But…

Thanks to a diligent Google search, I’ve identified this as the Tallac Historic Site in South Lake Tahoe. 

I knew the picture was taken at Lake Tahoe, but that was the only thing I remembered about this photo's location. My memory of this entire trip is dreadfully dim. (Excessive drinking was involved.) At any rate, I do recall the incredible beauty of Lake Tahoe and an afternoon hike to find this place, which I remember as being not so well-known at the time I explored it (well before it came under the oversight of a public-private partnership in 1996).

A Santa Barbara Mission

Which mission? Beats me.

The interior of the mission was silent, dark, and creepy. I much preferred taking pictures of the photogenic, non-creepy exterior.

During my trip to Santa Barbara, my visit to this mission was one of the few things I did with a companion. For about a week, I spent every day walking about Santa Barbara blissfully alone, taking pictures and doing whatever I pleased. Ah, the memory makes me smile.

I Suspect It’s Slide Rock

When I first drove through Oak Creek Canyon and Sedona, “Hotel California” was selling strong and I was not of legal age to drive a vehicle. The number of trips I’ve taken to this area, over such a long period of time, are so numerous that they’ve run together somewhat—which is why I’m pretty sure this is Slide Rock, but really, I’m not 100%. I love the picture, though.

Not Exactly Red Rock Crossing

I thought I knew the name of this place. As it turns out, I only had it half right.

When I took this picture, finding Red Rock Crossing (outside of Sedona) felt like an accomplishment. Today, it’s not so off-the-beaten-path (like all of Sedona). Thinking about how long ago this picture was taken, I thought I’d better verify that I had the name right.

As it turns out, the rock formation in this picture is Cathedral Rock, and Red Rock Crossing refers to the area where this picture was taken—and specifically to a giant bar of sandstone in Oak Creek.

Somewhere, in one of these albums, there’s a picture of that, too.

Do you ever find pictures that leave you asking yourself, "Where was this?" 

Or am I the only one?

___________

All pictures by Terrisa Meeks

Extra Local Las Vegas News

What’s “extra local,” you ask? Well, mostly it’s the only phrase I could think of to describe the assorted Las Vegas news tidbits I’ve been collecting recently, like warnings that coyotes will eat your little pets and an announcement about the Punk Rock Bowling and Music Festival. Read on:

Don’t Let Fido Be Coyote Chow

From the Peccole Ranch HOA’s newsletter, Pony Express;

If they don’t get your attention with the opening sentence (“We do have coyotes in Peccole Ranch,”) later on they hit you with this: “Coyotes kill and eat small dogs and house cats.” That’s after the explanation about how coyotes come into Peccole Ranch from nearby golf courses, which offer them an abundant supply of bunnies—but, obviously, Fluffy will also do nicely.

--"Coyote sightings at Peccole,” January/March 2013 Issue

Cheap Electronics and...

“Fry’s Electronics has pulled permits for remodeling work at Boca Park, but construction work has not yet begun on what would be Fry’s second store in Las Vegas….” Do you hear the collective groaning, Fry's? We’ve been waiting since 2011. This borders on cruel.

--Summerlin South View, January 8, 2013 Print Issue

...Rescued Trees

Also from that same Summerlin South View, this headline: “CraigRanch Park expected to be finished by July.” And I understand 6,000 of the original trees were saved (from the original golf course, built in 1962)—a victory for preserving something (anything) in Las Vegas with history.

Is a Mohawk Mandatory?

15th Annual Punk Rock Bowling and Music Festival, May 24-27, 2013

Downtown Las Vegas, NV

“Three days and four nights of outdoor festivals and late night club shows overtake the Downtown Fremont East District with more than 70 bands performing throughout the weekend, many special guests, reunions and rare appearances. With 1,000 punk rock bowlers competing for over $15,000 in prize money during the day, over 1,000 downtown hotel rooms, pool parties, comedy shows and a poker tournament….” This has been going on for over a decade and I just now noticed?

--From a press release

I ♥ The X-Train

I love the idea of the X-Train even more now that it has announced it's partnering with Today in Las Vegas to produce an onboard magazine: “The Vegas X Train, with planned luxury rail service between Southern CA and Las Vegas, NV, will be co-branding this publication for their passengers' in-seat convenience…” Why do I want to ride a train to and from LA so badly? I have no idea, but I do. I just do.

--From a press release

 ___________________________________________

Photo information: We're far from the only urban area with coyotes, as this photo taken in Arizona attests. This photo, "At Home in Scottsdale," is courtesy of Dru Bloomfield.

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.

Red Rock Canyon  National Conservation Area

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

Spring Mountain Ranch State Park

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.)

Ash Meadows National Wildlife Refuge 

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.

St.Thomas Ruins at Lake Mead 

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 Ghost Town

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

Death Valley

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?

Zzyzx, in the Mojave National Preserve 

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:

Bonnie Springs

Pahrump Valley Winery

Valley of Fire

Hoover Dam

Oatman, Arizona

Grand Canyon National Park

Grand Canyon West

Zion National Park

Cedar Breaks National Monument

Lake Las Vegas hotels: Ravella, Westin, Aston MonteLago

Mt. Charleston lodges:  Mt. Charleston Lodge, The Resort on Mt. Charleston

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

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. 

The Getty Center in Los Angeles

On the last day of 2012, I’d like to share a few pictures from The Getty Center, the amazing museum in the hills overlooking Los Angeles.

My son and I were there on December 9, during an afternoon we stole away from the hospital (the West Los Angeles VA Hospital, where my husband was a patient).

We had just a few hours to wander through The Getty’s buildings and gardens. Normally I would have been prepared for a such a visit. Under the circumstances, however, I was simply happy to be doing anything other than being at the hospital.

When the sun set, we were at the cactus garden. The birds chirped and the hummingbirds buzzed around strange cacti that I’d never seen. From our hill-top vantage point, we had a great view of the layer of smog that was filtering the light into golds and pinks. Below us, the 405 was lined with endless head lights and brake lights, and in the distance, the high-rise buildings’ lights were starting to twinkle. It was a magical moment during a week of craziness.

Here’s a toast to magical moments, whenever they may happen.

Happy New Year!

06-14-13
Update: For more pictures, check out my flickr set, "The Getty."

Plant World: A Vegas Oasis

I've been to plenty of plant nurseries over the years, but I can only think of one that warrants a visit simply for a stroll around the grounds. Plant World, on West Charleston, isn't just a place to buy flowers and shrubs. Birds and other creatures live there, which is why I have pictures of Plant World but not of any other nursery I've ever been to. Besides being a fun, unusual place to explore, Plant World is also staffed with people who know their stuff. This is the place to bring your questions about sickly plants and troublesome sprinklers.

I took these pics inside Plant World late last summer, when the Top Notch Barbeque food truck was still parked out in front of the nursery several days a week. My family made an entire afternoon out of lunch at Top Notch followed by a stroll through Plant World.

That got me wondering what was up with Top Notch, which serves up some of the best barbeque in Vegas. Turns out Top Notch is no longer mobile, but plans to open a restaurant. They still do catering, however, which almost makes me want to think up a reason for a party.

All pictures by Terrisa Meeks

Spring In Las Vegas

Spring in Las Vegas: wind, butterflies, and hummingbirds.

McFadden's Las Vegas at the Rio

Las Vegas Bloggers Hard At Work At McFadden's 

Those of us who write about Las Vegas are very lucky—especially those of us who love to eat out. Since I'm in the "If God wanted me to cook, He wouldn't have invented restaurants" category, I am particularly pleased when I get to visit places I haven't been before.

Late in October, I got invited to a Las Vegas bloggers event at McFadden's at the Rio. Las Vegas has almost as many Irish pubs these days as it does French restaurants (which really seems appropriate, if you think about it—ours is a city with an affinity for drinking and dining). I was pleased to try out McFadden's. I'm always up for beer and comfort food.

I was surprised that on a Wednesday evening, the valet parking at the Rio looked like a used car lot. (I was also running late, which means that "surprised" really means "irked.") "Is there a special event?" I asked the valet attendant, after I waited ten minutes to get someone to take my car keys.

"Just the dinner rush," he said. I thought that was a good sign. If that many people were eating out on a Wednesday night, the food must be pretty darn good throughout the Rio.

To find McFadden's from the main entrance, just bear to the right and once you reach the Masquerade Village—a.k.a, the shopping area—you can't miss McFadden's. It's got a  comfortable ambiance,  a sports bar/pub feeling. You will not feel out of place wearing jeans. There are no items on the menu that will leave you wondering if you should watch the Food Network more often to keep up on culinary trends. All of which, in my opinion, is a good thing.

McFadden's was happy to bring out plate after plate of food to our group of writers, and they were also thoughtful enough to bring out camera-ready plates of food bearing little labels. This food was not for eating… a fact I discovered after eating one of the labelled Mac & Cheese Bites. Oops.

And the food that was for consumption? I think I gained weight. Shepherd's Pie… yummy. Rueben Sandwiches… oh so yummy. Southwest Chicken Wrap… why didn't I get this first? Fabulously yummy. Mini Gourmet Burgers… please stop now. Guinness Battered Deep Fried Twinkie with Guinness Chocolate Sauce? Need I say more than "deep fried twinkie"? Don't even ask why there's no picture of that dish.

I admit that I was too buy eating and socializing to order one of their specialty beers, and instead had the green beer provided to everyone. I believe this means I must return.

Thank you to Wicked Creative and McFadden's, who hosted this event.


Update - January 17, 2012: Sad to say, McFadden's closed on December 5.  

A Trip to the Buffet

So there I was, writing about buffets.

And I don't mean writing one or two things about buffets. I had an assignment that kept me writing for an entire day about limitless quantities of all kinds of food: Sushi. Barbeque. Beef. Pork. Chicken. International dishes that I couldn't pronounce. Lobster. I'm sure you get the idea. I mean, what's more Vegas than a buffet? Apparently, my editor thought the same thing.

"What would you think about going to a buffet?" I asked my husband.

"I thought you didn't like buffets," he said.

"I'm reformed," I said. "And I have a player's club card. We can get a discount."

Soon we were standing in line at the Red Rock Feast Buffet. Just beyond the cashier, yards and yards of food awaited us.

When our waiter seated us, he said, "Remember you're in the section next to the Asian food. Otherwise, you'll get lost and won't find your table." My husband, son, and I dutifully took note of the big sign that said "Asian," then we set off to explore the vast offerings of the Feast.

My 13-year-old son was so overwhelmed with the food choices that he brought back a plate of salad. Salad. Oh my God, I thought, he's been traumatized.

I was delighted to find the sushi, conveniently located close enough to our table that I was never in danger of getting lost.

My husband brought back everything barbequed and fried that he could find. And my son recovered from the shock of so much food that he set his salad aside and bravely tried new foods.  

When we rolled out of the buffet, we were certain we'd never want to eat again.

As we waddled to the car, I had to stop to take pictures of the pretty waterfall at the front of the hotel. Since I'm a Las Vegas native, I'm rarely impressed with a hotel casino, but I do think the Red Rock is one of the prettiest in town. Had we not pounced on our buffet plates like ravenous beasts, I might have a buffet picture to share with you. Instead, you get to see the waterfall. 

A Rocky Surprise

This rock labyrinth sits just off the path at the Red Rock Overlook. I discovered it one afternoon when I drove to the Overlook for an emergency attitude adjustment.

The first time I stomped past the rocks, I never even saw them.

After I’d spent some time gazing at the Calico Hills and watching the tourists, I felt better. I got a good laugh when a group of teenagers screamed and did a dance when a flying insect buzzed them. (To be fair, it was a big bug.)

With my mental attitude adjusted, I headed down the path.

The light was fading, splintering through the cliffs to the west. This time I saw it: the small swirl of rocks, the spiraling path with a cairn in the middle. How could I have missed that? Talk about a case of blind anger.