Reasons to Love Las Vegas

It's 65 degrees out and sunny, and we're entering our second week in November. What a good reason to love Las Vegas.

We have almost everything we need within the city limits, and everything we could possibly want that we can't find here is within a couple hours by road to California, Utah or Arizona. What a good reason to love Las Vegas.

We rang in the weekend with the grand opening of the new REI store, which has opened down the road in Summerlin (which is also where I work). We did the hardcore fan thing and arrived early so that we were rewarded with free schwag - t-shirts, water bottles and gift cards. This REI is so much closer than the one in Henderson, and we're really stoked about being within such close proximity to the free classes now. And, of course, we're already looking forward to the first garage sale at this REI. We may have to become truly hardcore fans and camp out the night before like our friends Chris and Dee did in Portland a few weeks back. What a good reason to love Las Vegas.

Yesterday afternoon we went to a choreographer's showcase at TI. The Nevada Ballet teamed up with Cirque du Soleil to put on an intimate, eclectic and wildly entertaining show. Locals came out in their Sunday finest, and I was excited to be part of this hidden corner of the city that tourists don't even know about. What a good reason to love Las Vegas.

It's getting to be off-season in the city. Locals tickets are 2-for-1 at many of the big shows. What will we see this year? It doesn't matter, really. It's just one more good reason to love Las Vegas.

Thinking of casinos, scantily clad girls and all that glitters ~
JoAnna

The Newest Member

Jo and I have been pondering the idea of a new dog to keep Butch Mbwa company for the past few weeks. We thought perhaps we would adopt from Best Friends, but they had very stringent requirements that even we did not meet. On Friday (Nevada Day = no school!) we went down to the local SPCA shelter with full intention of getting one of the many boxer or bull dog mixes they have at the shelter. As we walked through the tight corridor of kennels the cacophony of dog barks assaulted our ears. We looked around for dogs that met our criteria: 1) 7 or older 2) good with other animals and 3) not barking when every other dog was barking.
We saw a few puppy mill mommas that broke our hearts but could not live with other animals, so we had to pass on them. All the boxers or bull dogs seemed to be too big for Butch Mbwa and we worried about putting our timid Kenyan with a dog bigger than he. Then we stumbled across Bianca. Huddled in the front corner of a kennel with 3 other dogs was a small brindle chihuahua/terrier mix. She met all our criteria: She is 10, she was reportedly good with dogs and passed her cat test with flying colors, and she didn't seem to even want to bark when other dogs walked past.
We went and ran a few other errands on Friday with plans of taking Butch down yesterday to meet Bianca. On Saturday, when the two met sparks did not fly per se. This is mostly due to the fact that neither cared that the other was around. We payed our adoption fee and brought Bianca home on Saturday morning. Waiting for her at the house were her new bowl and new bed.
She is doing well, in fact she is asleep in her bed right now. She seems to be warming up to Jo and me and really seems to like going on walks.

Here are a few photos:





Bianca roaming around the living room. She likes to do laps before going to sleep.







Bianca in her bed. Notice the lovely pink blanket.










Bianca and I snuggling.

They See Me Rollin'...

I spent the first weekend in October learning the ins and outs of a Honda Nighthawk 250, and, more importantly, learning how not to kill myself on a motorcycle. The class was taught by two men who very obviously had great skill on a bike. I had classroom time and on bike time each day and on Sunday I had to pass a written and riding skills exam to pass the class. Well...needless to say:I passed. That is my kick a$$ helmet, my Motorcycle Safety Foundation card, and my new license with the official "M" endorsement.


After receiving my card Jo and I set out to find a bike. I looked at a few different bikes and decided to go for a Honda Shadow VT750. One of our local dealers had just the bike I was after, but after much waiting, chatting, waiting, walking around, waiting, and looking at papers, they were only able to get me a 13% apr for the bike. This would mean paying twice what it was worth. I was a bit disappointed and called Leland (my father-in-law) to see what other options I had. He pointed me to www.crashedtoys.com, a website that auctions bikes that have been totaled by insurance companies. He said if we found a bike he could fix it up no problem.

We found another Honda Shadow VT750 American Classic Edition and decided to bid on the bike. Leland took care of the bidding as I was at work. At 11 am I clicked on the auction and we had won!...at 11:04 I refreshed the page and we had lost?! Apparently there was a glitch in the system at Crashed Toys and two people won the bike. Leland and I assumed that the other bidder had won as he was the last to bid. We went on our way to check for other bikes.

Then......on Friday Leland got a phone call from Crashed Toys asking if he was going to come pick up the bike he won! WOO HOO! Leland got the bike back to his place and we got a steal. He needs to replace the front headlight, the windshield and fix the rear turn signals. He is also going to do a full fluid change but it runs well and will be ready to get inspected for a clean title shortly.

The bike in this picture is having its battery charged, hence no seat, but it is my bike. So, soon I will be rollin' on my Honda, getting 60 mpg, and enjoying the Nevada sun.

Coasting on two wheels,

Cory

Knee Deep in the Creek

One week ago today Cory and I stepped into the cold running water of the Virgin River in Zion National Park. We were compelled to make it out to Zion one final time this year to hike the Narrows, the slot canyon at the northern end of the shuttle route in the park. The Narrows is no ordinary trail. This hike requires water slogging - A LOT of it - and it can be quite chilly in a space that can easily be a wind tunnel and gets little sun.

Our goal was to hike five miles upriver to the campsites that hikers stay at when they through-hike the river from the top. For the first two miles we were joined by hordes of day hikers in everything imaginable - bikinis, barefeet, and even a big guy wading in his skivvies. Like I said, this is no normal guy's hike and it was frightening to see the number of people on the river unprepared. While you can rent special boots and pants for the Narrows hike, we outfitted ourselves and did pretty well. I wore: a sweat-wicking sports bra, a sweat-wicking tank top, Under Armour long sleeve shirt and tights, UV tank top, fleece sweatshirt with hood, light-dry cargo pants, wool hiking socks and Keens. We also brought along hats, gloves, extra clothing to keep our cores warm and extra socks.

At two-and-a-half miles, we came to a point where a second canyon joined the Narrows. After that, the hikers became scarce and the scenery became even more exquisite. Unfortunately, it is so dark in the canyon that it's difficult to take pictures, but the walls were covered in thick moss and ferns and waterfalls that sounded like timpani drums ran out of cracks in the canyon walls. We even found one section of the wall covered in insect exo-skeletons.

Around three miles into the hike we came upon Wall Street, an amazing portion of the hike where the canyon narrows significantly and sheer canyon walls rise straight up on both sides. It's the part of the hike where I really felt at the mercy of nature. If anything had happened at this point - flash flood, rock slide, etc. - we would have had nowhere to go. There were no sandbanks on either side of the river, and we had to carefully navigate our way up the rushing water through slippery rocks. At one point, the water was nearly up to my waist.

Four miles in we hit a portion of the river filled with huge boulders we had to scramble over and navigate around. At this point, we were only sharing the river with a few interspersed hikers and a significant number of trout. Not knowing what time it was, but knowing we'd been on the river for quite some time, we stopped at four-and-a-half miles to eat our sandwiches before turning around and heading back. Only two other groups of people passed us as far as we could tell.

Now, I would have thought getting downriver would be easier than the trek up it, but it wasn't at all. In fact, I moved so slowly and had to concentrate so hard on getting my footing that, once we were back in a place with other people, hikers were passing us right and left. Going back down the river I fell twice, but luckily just my arms were wet from catching myself and not my actual core.

Triumphant, we made it back to camp in one piece, though a bit stiffer than when we'd left. Who knew we had all these unknown muscles? We can check the Narrows off of our list of things to do in this lifetime - though now we're talking about taking the through-hike from the top of the river. Another day...

See more of our pictures from the Narrows here.

Wet and dirty,
JoAnna

Redefining Garage Sales

Cory and I made an incredible discovery this past weekend...the REI garage sale. We knew it had to be good with the long line wrapped along the side of the building waiting to get into the roped off area, but we didn't know how good until we got in. What a treasure trove! Bikes, tents, sleeping bags, GPS systems, sunglasses...you name it, it was there at a significantly discounted price. Since we were the third group in, shoes and clothes were fifty percent off the sales price because there were still so many left. This was a "bruised and battered" sale, so these were returned items, but they weren't necessarily damaged. The pair of Keens I bought for $2.50 (you read that right) just didn't fit the first owner comfortably - the same is true for the other four pairs of shoes we bought - so nothing was actually wrong with any of them. We walked away with those Keens, a pair of Tevas, three pairs of Merrells, a sweater, a sweat-wicking shirt, a cute beanie and a fanny pack/water bottle holder for my dad all for the low, low price of $75. We love REI...and we love REI garage sales! Yippee for great deals!

There and Back Again, or up the hill and back down

The day did not start out well at all. We were all soaked from the pouring rain and I was frustrated at my sopping wet french toast. We had spent the night around the campfire talking about the hike and were all excited about going up “the hill”. We took our moisture soaked hearts to the Ranger’s station to get an update on the weather.

“Gunna rain hard all day.”

“All day?”

“Yup. Look here at the radar.” The screen was green with a monstrous rain cloud covering most of the park. “But hey, this is Zion, anything could happen.”

We decided to go to the Zion Human History Museum to see if we could wait out the rain. We looked around at the exhibits and walked through the art gallery, all a bit dejected. Leland and I looked outside and noticed the rain was letting up.

“Lets go check the radar again” he said.

“Looks like it is going to clear up” young, blonde haired ranger told us.

We went in to the Zion introduction movie with a twinge of excitement. Twenty-two minutes later we stepped outside to sunshine and no rain.

“Well, let’s go up the hill” I said while pointing at the looming rock known as Angel’s Landing in the distance. We climbed on to the shuttle and headed off to the Grotto stop and the Angel’s Landing trailhead.

Angel’s Landing is a 2.5 mile path that winds its way 1488 ft. up to the top of a large sandstone monolith that lets you see the whole canyon. The book had warned of narrow pathways and “areas where chains bolted to the side of the cliff face may be needed for assistance.”

At the bottom of the path we stopped to look up at the overbearing piece of rock we were going to climb. The path started out as sand and was a fairly steady climb for a quarter of a mile until it became a paved path. We passed three young women, one poorly shod; an Indian couple using two hiking poles a piece, and a small family of Germans. We stopped often to catch our breath, take a picture or six, and just enjoy the view.

Before the path curved into a crevasse between Angel’s Landing and the rock wall next to it we stopped and looked down at the path we had traversed thus far.

“Wow.” I said.

“Look how far we have come already” this from Jo.

“Let’s get to Walter’s Wiggles” said Leland.

We made it to Walter’s Wiggles, the series of 21 switchbacks that takes you to Scout’s landing, in about 10 minutes. It took us about 15 more to clime the wiggles. It was once we reached the landing that we saw what was ahead…or thought we did. There was a fairly steep sandstone cliff face in front of us with people scrambling up, using the chains to haul themselves along the side of the face. Others were looking down from the top waiting for their chance to return from the Landing. We took our place in line and climbed/hauled ourselves to the next landing, The Chicken Out Point.

As we turned the corner and truly faced our last half mile we had very little to say.

“Oh shit.”

“Holy balls.”

“Holy balls!”

The guy sitting on the landing laughed at us. “I love hearing peoples’ expressions when they turn that corner.”

What was facing us was a ridge that ran from The Chicken Out Point to Angel’s Landing. It was about a half mile to the top.

I looked at the ant like people scrambling up and down the ridge. “I’m not giving up”

“Let’s go then” Jo and Leland said in unison.

We crawled, pulled, climbed and slid our way that half mile to the top. On our way we stopped for water, to catch our breath and take a picture of rare wildlife like the California Condor. It took us almost an hour to get to Angel’s Landing. Once there we had a stunning view of the entire Canyon from the Altar of Sacrifice all the way to the mouth of The Narrows. We sat down and had a lunch of chips, apples, and cookies. We took the appropriate pictures and looked at each other.

“So, lets go down the Hill.”

Toeshoes and Keens abide,

Cory

Pictures linked below in Jo's posting.

Zion: Where Angels Come to Play

Not all destinations are created equal.

I say this because not only did we visit an unbelievably beautiful and mesmerizing destination over Labor Day, but we chose to live in a place that offers us such wonderful access to some of our country’s most amazing national parks. I knew we made the right decision when we chose to move to Las Vegas last year.

But to get back to the unbelievably beautiful and mesmerizing destination of Zion National Park,located in southern Utah… Declared a national park nearly 100 years ago, much of this park is inaccessible to people, and in the main canyon area of the park, a shuttle bus service runs a circuit, dropping people off at trailheads and viewpoints. It’s quiet, clean and unobtrusive.

Zion is a family-friendly park that can be enjoyed from viewpoints and short hiking trails, but like any camping trip, our journey to Zion was filled with strenuous hiking, cliff-hugging adventures and promises to return. We were lucky enough to have my dad join us on the trip, which is always a treat. Together, the three of us explored just about every nook and cranny up and down the main shuttle route.

At Weeping Rock, I was reminded of the unique ecosystems that exist within this park. Although technically in the desert, the Virgin River runs through Zion and rainfall that seeps through the sandstone drips off of the limestone below it creating hanging gardens and moss that covers rocks resting next to cacti.

Many of the named monoliths in the park are named after religious objects and people. The Great White Throne, the Altar of Sacrifice, Angel’s Landing (more on this in a minute) and the Three Patriarchs (Abraham, Isaac and Jacob) are overwhelming and stunning with their sheer drop offs and seemingly carved-out arches.

On Saturday we took a hike to Hidden Canyon, a secluded narrow ravine set high up in the hills. We were thrilled by the fact that parts of the trail required we hold onto a chain so as not to fall off the edge, and the stone staircases carved into the side of the hill felt ancient and secretive. Hidden Canyon itself was narrow and required some rock scrambling as we made our way back to a free-standing arch. It’s always so gratifying to me when the really rewarding features take some work to see. The big treat on this hike was the spotted owl that Cory saw resting in a tree. White, fluffy and completely unexpected, the owl perched quietly as we stared at it in amazement.

We received a little bit of rain Saturday night and Sunday morning, but once the sun started burning through the clouds, we headed for Angel’s Landing, a peak we’d been talking about since learning about it on Saturday. Angel’s Landing juts into the middle of the park and is accessible by a two-and-a-half mile trail that climbs 1,488 feet. It was muggy when we started up the trail, which quickly left the road and led back toward the “hill” (as Cory liked to call it) where the trail grew increasingly steeper. A lazy set of switchbacks turned back behind Angel’s Landing in a deceivingly flat, shady trail. Once we reached the end of the easy part, the trail turned 180-degrees as we headed up the 21 steep switchbacks known as Walter’s Wiggles. From there we ended up at Scout’s Point, where we were met with a sign warning us of hazardous conditions ahead. We had reached the first real challenge of the day. The trail led around a chunk of the mountain that again had a chain to help from falling, but this time the chain meant business. There were parts of the trail that required we rely heavily on the chain in order to avoid falling off the cliff face. I found it challenging; being short, I struggled occasionally to reach the next step up and I had to use the chain to drag myself up the rock. As we turned the final curve, I couldn’t believe what I saw in front of me. Angel’s Landing lay half a mile in front of me, straight up a narrow, rocky ridge not more than three feet wide in places.

“Holy balls,” I distinctly remember myself saying.

“Oh shit,” Cory said.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the guy behind Cory said under his breath.

A man standing next to me laughed. “I love hearing people coming around the bend,” he said as we both looked at the treacherous path that lay before us. He told me that people coming back said the climb was worth it, but that lots of people got to the point we were at and made the decision not to continue. “It’s okay to stop here,” he said. “I am.”

But I wasn’t quitting. I don’t think I ever really thought about not finishing the climb to the top of Angel’s Landing. It just took me by surprise. What an intimidating endeavor, but one I will remember for a lifetime and feel proud of conquering.

We set off on the climb, pausing occasionally to rest, drink water and, yes, watch a California condor sunning itself on the side of the cliff face. We hauled ourselves up sand-slippery boulders and wedged ourselves into cracks as we let people pass us going in the other direction. We navigated around rocky corners and adjusted our footing to balance as we peered over the edge of the cliff and pointed out other hiking paths we’d climbed and bus stops we recognized. We became talented in a new sport I think should be in the gymnastics competition of the Olympics: uneven balance beam. Like a broken and dirty matchstick resting between the Empire State Building and the Eiffel Tower, the ridge we traversed became our momentary Everest.

Half a mile later we reached the peak of Angel’s Landing, a stunning viewpoint from which we seemed to be able to see the entire park (though this isn’t really true). Without any cars running down the spine of Zion, the view was really marvelous. Now that we were at the top of one of those monoliths, we could see the ribbon of the Virgin River, the winding sandstone road with the occasionally propane-powered bus meandering down it, the lonely lodge and the steep path we had climbed.

At the “lunchroom” on top of Angel’s Landing, people joked about how a waitress on roller skates would be by any minute to take our beer orders. As we munched on fruit and chips, Dad, Cory and I pondered the little things that surrounded us. When does a rock become a boulder, a boulder become a hill and a hill become a mountain? How did the chipmunks get to the top of Angel’s Landing? We marveled at the Korean hikers who flew by us going up and coming down, and we commented on the shoes and clothing people were able to climb in.

It was amazing being on the top of the world. Climbing Angel’s Landing is, I think, the closest thing I’ve ever done to climbing a mountain, and I’m really excited the three of us did it.

As we sat by the campfire on Sunday night, we made plans to come back and hike The Narrows—an upriver hike that requires some swimming. Perhaps we’ll add that on to the end of our rim-to-rim Grand Canyon adventure next summer. The campfire crackled, the smoke blew through the air, the stars shined, people laughed and talked quietly in sites around ours, and we basked in the glory of another fantastic camping trip in a place that is clearly superior to so many others.

Check out our other Zion pictures here.

Camelpacks and hiking boots,
JoAnna