You Took a Baby to Vegas?

Vegas was just an excuse to get away.

The Lima 3/1 group decided to host their yearly reunion in Law Vegas (I’m honestly amazed it took them that long). One of the guys that was in my dad’s platoon, Floyd, had touched base with me months before I had decided to commit to a road trip. But once an opportunity presents itself, I’m the type to jump all in and make it up as I go along.

He and my dad had become very close towards the end of my dad’s life, talking on the phone often. Then after my dad’s death, he reached out to the kids via Facebook. Technology can be an amazing thing.

Floyd had reserved a room at the reunion hotel but realized he didn’t need one cause he was going to room up with one of the guys. He offered me his spot, and I blindly leaped. I had never been to Vegas. And more importantly, I had never explored Nevada.

I loaded baby Stone and some basic belongings into Sweet Cream and took off. The drive from Olympia, WA to Vegas was longer than I expected. Much longer. What should have been a 17 hour cruise turned into nearly 24 hours. On our first day, we hit I-5 south to I-84 along the Columbia River Gorge. It was smooth sailing passing endless waterfalls and the expanse of the Columbia River. Then I got my first taste of Westfalia life. The small hills of eastern and southern Oregon proved cumbersome, slowing Sweet Cream down to a meager 35 to 40 mph. In posted areas of 55 to 65 mph. I realized I should have gotten that “Just pass me” bumper sticker.

As we continued toward Bend, OR, I started feeling like my fuel was cutting out. This was something I experienced while owning a Jeep Wrangler. At times, the rubber fuel lines would get too hot causing the fuel to essentially vaporize. So instead of liquid fuel hitting your injectors, you get air. I decided that maybe we should just take our time, taking breaks every few hours.

We finally arrived to a campsite in Bend at dark. Second taste of Westfalia life – my dash lights didn’t work. The Vanagon had sputtered into town, dying at a red light but thankfully starting back up without issue. No one was around. The moon was out and the night was clear. I did my best attempt at filling out an after hours check-in and we quickly passed out.

It would be another 10+ hour driving day to get to Vegas. With minimal gas stations and rest stops along the way.

We made it though. We arrived to the hotel, sweaty and exhausted. I met up with Floyd, checked into my room, then socialized with the vets. Stone made friends easily, specifically drawn to an engaged couple that loved showing him model helicopters at the Leatherneck Club while this mom got to have a beer and hear war stories.

Quick note, the Leatherneck Club is a bar and galley run by Marines for Marines. History lines every square inch of their walls, starting at WW1. They are incredibly friendly. The food is fucking delicious. And drinks! Only place I actually went out to while in Vegas.

The real adventure began when we checked out of our hotel room. After saying our goodbyes, I drove just across the parking lot to a gas station. As Stone and I were inside paying for gas, water, and ice we got to witness two guys speed away in a Mercedes SUV after stealing juice. Juice. And the attendants took down their plate number….oops.

We drove out of Vegas looking at the lights of Mandalay Bay, MGM Grand, and the Bellagio. I smiled knowing I literally had only spent $235 in Vegas for a weekend.

We continued an hour north to the Valley of Fire State Park. I had our third Westfalia moment at the entrance waiting to pay the entrance fee. Sitting there in the heat, I saw my temperature gauge start to quickly rise. I put Sweet Cream in neutral and shut off the engine. We coasted into the park until we could start driving again.

Stone and I went to the visitor center for a break from the heat. We shared a drumstick ice cream cone and walked around looking at the exhibits. Stone ran around saying “Snake! Snake!” while pointing at the different snakes in their terrariums.

With no shade and an unforgiving sun, I decided it was much too hot to attempt a hike with a toddler. We had gotten to the park too late. Eight in the morning would have been a perfect hike time. Regardless, we made the best of it and moved on to Lake Mead.

We found an empty boat launch on Lake Mead. I parked Sweet Cream, slathered Stone in sunblock, and we walked down to the water. It was the most welcoming slip into a cool, calm pool. No one was around. Stone threw rocks into the water then eventually made his way into the water. I swam with him in my arms, twirling in circles, pointing out the rock colors and ripples. He held on tight, repeating “I got you,” the phrase I always said to him as I carried him throughout the days.

After swimming, we air dried on our drive, listening to Lucero at full volume (mad props to you if you know who Lucero is too). We found a camp spot in an empty campground. It was so hot that we didn’t eat dinner. Instead we chugged what seemed like endless bottles of water and gatorade. My number one focus was keeping us hydrated, no matter how many diapers I had to change.

Stone fell asleep slowly as the sun set. Even at 10 pm, it was an uncomfortable 87 degrees outside. The top was popped, windows open, and sliding door cracked. I couldn’t get comfortable. Stone was snoring, rocking only a diaper. I felt gross and sticky, drinking water constantly. I finally fell asleep around 3 or 4 am, when it cooled enough to feel somewhat comfortable. At home, I sleep cold. I’m one of those set it to 64 and pile on the blankets kind of people. I also stick out one foot.

The next morning, we groggily continued north on I-15. Still chugging water. As we made it into Utah, we had no set plan. Then I remembered we were in dinosaur country. We stopped at the BYU paleontology museum, a two room museum that housed a few skeletons and fossils. Stone lost it! He was running around yelling “dinosaur!” in his sweet toddler voice. Then he saw it, the Utahraptor, the largest-known member of the family Dromaeosauridae. Standing at over six feet tall, with the claw we all remember from Jurassic Park, it was intimidating. Stone started jumping up and down exclaiming, “Raptor! Raptor!” The kid knows his dinosaurs.

We ate some snacks in the parking lot, Stone still beaming from his adventure. I found a camp spot in Provo at Nunns Park. What seemed like a city park turned out to be an incredible discovery. We spoke with the camp hosts, got to meet their sweet pups, and set up camp. The park had a playground, biking trails, clean bathrooms (yes!), and a quick paved trail to a waterfall and creek. We walked the trail, took off our shoes and explored the creek. Stone threw rocks in his usual fashion. Back at our site, I made dinner and we listened to John Denver while rocking in our hammock. It was perfect.

Our drive back home was quick and easy. I knew my Sweet Cream a little better, and Stone had gotten used to our driving routine. We came home and immediately started plotting out next adventures.