High Point of the Trip…So Far

Las Vegas was a real high point of the trip. No, I didn't win big. I lost four bucks that I will never get back, try as I might. No, this was when we saw the Hoover Dam, took a helicopter flight into the Grand Canyon and rode horses at Grand Canyon Ranch. It is still not that mule ride I wanted, (still want, but don’t tell Larry), but it was a grand, grand day.  I wish my son and his sons could spend the night at Grand Canyon Ranch, just so the boys could feel a little like cowboys.

We took off from what felt like downtown Las Vegas in a six-seater helicopter, kind of a small thing, but totally adequate. Larry rode up front with the pilot on the trip out. The pilot kept telling him not to touch anything. I guess he thought Larry was ready to grab something.   We flew over Hoover Dam and Lake Mead. It was sad to see how much the lake is being drained. Apparently as the deserts in Nevada and California turn green and become more populated, Lake Mead dwindles. I remember someone telling me once that someday clean water would be as precious as oil. I think that might be true in this part of the world.

Anyway, so we flew down in the canyon and disembarked only to have a glass of champagne handed to us immediately. Just one? Really what’s the point? Could there be more later. We'll see. We went to the little corral and were treated to a little show by the cowboys. It was sweet, all about how cowboys are the greatest Americans. I like a cowboy as much as the next girl, but it’ll take more than one glass of champagne to make me swallow that one. 

Then we had lunch in house that was built by the man who settled in the canyon a hundred years ago or some such. Apparently he killed someone, took their identity and moved into the canyon to be a rancher. How on earth anyone thought they could raise cattle here is beyond me. But he did and the group their kept saying it was still a working ranch. I think we were supposed to think any minute they would take off to herd and brand cattle. The work today is entertaining tourists, I think. That’s OK. I was thoroughly entertained and grinned the entire time from ear to ear.

The best part after riding up front in the helicopter, for Larry at least, was the horse ride. Not that he liked riding all that much. He just loved watching my fat butt try to stay in the saddle. And of course my horse was the one who wanted to head for a munch of tumbleweed off the path or from the bales of hay or alfalfa or something that was stacked to the side. Five horses in a row and which was the only hungry one? You got it. Mine. It totally reminded me of the last time I remember riding a horse. I was ten years old, and Martha and I took out a couple of horses that belonged to our cousin Donald for a ride down the road. Not far from the house my horse decided he was done with me. He saw a barn and took off for it. Never mind it was not his barn or even on my uncle’s farm. It was a barn. He was tired or thirsty or hungry or just ornery. Who knows?  Anyway off I went. Back then I was waaay less that 100 pounds and had little if any riding experience.  Needless to say the memory remains and came back to me in bottom of the Grand Canyon. I return  to the original and only complaint. How’s a girl supposed to relax with one tiny glass of champagne?

Back to the ranch house and it was time to reboard the helicopter. This time Larry had to sit in the back with me.  The pretty dark-haired girl from Miami sat with the pilot. Later Larry wanted to know why the pilot didn’t keep telling her to keep her hands to herself.  Go figure.

All in all it was a grand time. We even bought a CD of the cowboy’s songs. Somehow they don’t sound the same in the RV. Perhaps I should listen after just one glass of champagne. Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.


Footnote: I have pictures of the helicopter, Larry, Lake Mead, the horses, EVERYTHING. And I can't get them in here.