Rolling into Las Vegas from Pismo Beach, we traveled past the spot where James Dean’s life ended so abruptly in his sports car, Little B******.

Driving across the eastern part of California, leaving the coast, is a quick change from the energy and excitement of the ocean to the tranquil, measured rows of grapevines, orchard trees, and vegetable crops. The transition is not unlike crossing Routes 50 or 99 from Ocean City back onto the Eastern Shore. Worlds so close, and worlds apart.

One thing about driving in to Vegas–it was, granted, a Saturday–is that first, it is a long way from anywhere, and second, a lot of people were heading there.

Las Vegas’s only campground-on-the-Strip really is just behind Circus Circus, at one end of the famous Strip. There, we spent a sinfully expensive day–I guess I can tell YOU–in the Adventure Dome.  It was decadent–at least for us–and very, very fun! 

In Vegas, we also caught the Water Ballet at the Bellagio and the Volcano at the Mirage, as well as the gondoliers at the Venetian. The Venetian is where we also searched long and hard for Carlo’s Bakery (of Cake Boss fame). We found it, but the line was way way too long!

Back on the strip, the night time crowd was thick and wired. Adding to the concoction was a devil wind, with gusts up to 60 miles an hour! We finally caught a transit bus back to our end of town.

We stayed one extra day in Las Vegas, because our next destination, Cedar City, Utah, was forecasting snow on the day of our scheduled arrival. We took advantage of the extra time to drive the short way to Hoover Dam.  The tour took us deep below the road (and the lake’s surface!). 

The dam is a silent, soaring tribute to the thousands of nameless men who took the only job they could find in an unforgiving desert at the nadir of the American Dream.  In its vastness, it is reminiscent of the Grand Canyon’s capacity to short-circuit your depth perception with devilish and deadly ease. In its technical genius, and its sheer audacity in pulling the skirt tails of Mother Nature, it reminded me  of the Confederation Bridge, separating New Brunswick from Prince Edward Island, Canada.  Monumental works of man that seem somehow to eyeball Mother Nature.

In the realm of sheer solidarity of national will, Hoover Dam and landing on the moon, for my money,  are the two biggies. The sad thing for me is that initiatives requiring that much across-the-board  support are impossible in my lifetime. And  impossible at the one time when we are really called on to face some really epic problems as–well–as astronauts on Spaceship Earth.

I should’ve checked on the Vegas odds while we were in town.  I hope my bet is wrong.