Stripping with the Family and Chuck in Las Vegas
The Adventures of Wally Chapstick and Company: The Westward Excursion
Day 12: July 4, 1988 Provo, Utah to Las Vegas, Nevada
The first thing I saw was the terrible mess from the “hickster” campers from the night before. I had difficulty falling asleep. Such rude rowdiness made me try other things inside my sleeping quarters — writing, listening to the Beatles.
However, I woke up refreshed and made my way to the bathrooms. The sky was dreary and dark. A blanket of morning moisture coated the ground. It was still early. The campground — and our camper — was quiet.
I thought of a great many things as I sat on the toilet. I have a theory that all great ideas come on the can.
My mind was a melting pot that morning — spilling with bubbling thoughts and visions and fond memories. I felt privileged. Sitting on the can in Provo, Utah at some off-road campground surrounded by black, barren hills.
Many don’t escape New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Delaware. Here I am with my family, trekking across the United States for three weeks in a Ford Aerostar with our pop-up camper. The experiences and the first hand knowledge from such a trip are so rewarding and personally fulfilling.
Life should be a string of such revelations
Is there any other way than through experience? Not through reading — studying — or viewing pictures. Reading about a geyser is not the same as viewing a geyser. Studying baseball is not the same as playing baseball.
But it’s not only through vision.
The smell — the multitude of aromas — the textile sensation of the sand and the cold, mountain water. There is that sense of Being One with Nature — as corny as that may sound — and sharing these pleasures, all culminate and percolate and remain a sizable part of memory.
Experiences that one will never forget
As I left the bathroom, satisfied that my mind was clear and my bowels were cleansed, I noticed the clouds had tightened its grip. The ground was darker.
Would we see the sun today?
It started to rain, although not hard — only a slight drizzle. My arrival at the camper brought surprises. Was this the first time Wally Chapstick was up first? Did they think I was still asleep? Yes.
With the long haul to Vegas ahead of us, we packed up in the rain and bid adieu to the friendly folks across the street. How many empty bottles were out there?
Interstate 15 cuts through an irrigated, semi-arid valley and sheep-raising country
Rugged, worn mountains bordered each side of the highway. We passed through several small and poor Mormon towns and settlements, stopping for lunch at the Cove Fort rest area.
The rain had stopped, but the sky was still dark and the temperature, cool.
We had now traveled through most of Utah. We still were not impressed, even though it’s a huge state with gorgeous areas of Bryce Canyon and Zion National Park, and Monument Valley.
Why didn’t we have the time to visit Utah’s beautiful parts?
We passed through Cedar City at an elevation of 5,840 feet and continued south towards Arizona. The sky cleared. We saw the sun for the first time that day.
A sudden transformation took place in Arizona — more and more cacti.
Were we on a different planet?
The weather was hot and dry. There was little, if any, growth and vegetation. The road followed the cuts and grooves in brittle rock. An hour later we stopped at a rest area and took a picture of us standing around the car, pondering this strange land.
There was no running water. We were, after all, in the desert. There were Mexicans resting underneath the only shade in the area, waiting for car assistance. The sun was now out in full force.
Where did that cool air go?
Noelle complained about the heat and the music. So I popped in one of her tapes, George Michael’s “Faith.” Now, I have just about memorized every lyric on the first side, but is this very difficult?
“Sex is natural. Sex is good. Not everybody does it, but everybody should.”
What people consider music these days is beyond me.
We soon reached Nevada — the Silver State — the land of casinos, quick marriages, even quicker divorces, legal prostitution, and Wild Times.
Oh, I’m going to love this place.
Las Vegas will be a sharp departure. This was Sin City — the wicked heart of American Capitalism where the oils of greed, corruption, lust, fun, and fortune grease its Wheels.
Larger cactus plants grew alongside the highway in greater numbers. We were actually in the Middle of Nowhere — no houses — no cars — no signs — no people. What if we broke down? Would we die?
A long strip of tar disappeared into the horizon through waves of heat. Where was The Roadrunner and Wiley Coyote?
The Mom was driving so fast, even the Roadrunner or the Tasmanian Devil couldn’t catch us
It was mid-afternoon when we crossed into Pacific Time. A sign read — Las Vegas: 5 Miles. How was that so? We were still in the Middle of Nowhere.
The family truckster groaned up a steep hill, and as we neared the top, there it was: the giant oasis positioned between the mountains — the first sight of Las Vegas — glittering and sparkling.
From far away, Las Vegas didn’t appear too large. There were no towering skyscrapers or rundown neighborhoods. Just the casinos. But as we entered the city, I was surprised to find many nice and clean suburbs. Palm trees lined the streets.
It was half-past three. It was time to locate a campground casino. This one place was only for elderly people. They didn’t want children. And I really didn’t want old people either.
It works both ways.
The Mom spotted The Silver Nugget Casino and RV park. As The Mom disappeared into the office, we guessed how much the place would cost. By the look on her face as she ran back, I knew she struck oil — a real bargain.
We were all wrong. It was only $8 bucks a night. But the campground was all blacktop under that Nevada desert sun. There was no air conditioning in the camper. A few measly and haggard-looking palm trees offered little shade. What did I expect? An oasis?
But the place was clean and not too crowded. The bathhouses were nice, and there was a gigantic pool. Could I just strip to my plaid boxers and jump right into the pool?
It was in the mid-100s, but as they say, “it’s a dry heat.”
Someone complained about the humidity being 10%. What?
The others soon joined me at the pool, relaxing and chilling
It had been a long, hot day. We were planning to visit the Strip and eat dinner at one of the casinos. I hung around for a while in the whirlpool. This guy came over. He was thin, short, maybe just five feet on a good day, with a receding hairline. How old would I say he was? Maybe mid-20s. His glasses constantly fogged up and kept sliding down as if his nose was a waterslide.
His name was Chuck. He was “in a bad, bad way.” He lost his job at one of the casinos. His girlfriend left him. He was being kicked out of his apartment.
“I’m heading home,” he said. “Heading home to Yosemite, California.” He needed the mountains. He wanted me to “come and visit.” What? We had known each other for what? Less than five minutes?
I gave the poor guy some bad advice about the “evils” of women and how all “great men of history” have been brought down due to the “charms of a beautiful lady.” It was all bullshit. I had no such experience or beliefs. Chuck agreed.
“You’re very smart,” he said. “How old are you? I guess you must be close to twenty-seven or something.”
“Close,” I replied. “Twenty-six.”
Chuck thought my brother and sister were my own children. Was this guy a couple cans short of a six-pack? Our entire whirlpool chat was one bullshit session.
Chuck told me the Grand Canyon was nothing “but a big hole and not worth seeing.” Nothing was as good as Yosemite.
How many times did I stretch the truth with Chuck? Did I tell one fact? I do not make a habit of lying, but I couldn’t help but weave a story. It was all in fun. No harm was meant. But here was this stranger telling me his problems! Did he just need someone to talk to?
The Mom claimed I shouldn’t have lied to the poor guy.
I quickly cleaned up after a fast shower. We were all ready for the Strip, but Noelle was still busy inside the camper using her curling iron and a can of hairspray or two. The only way we forced her out was to turn the ignition, rev the engine, and pretend to leave without her.
The Vegas Strip came alive at night — of course
There were the porno palaces and adult bookstores and special motels that charge by the hour. And I goofed off by pretending to be interested.
Las Vegas hits all at once. There is no “easing” into Vegas. The lights, the noise, and the excitement seem to throb every hour — especially as the sun descends. I saw hookers searching for their next liaison. Pushers in the alleys unloaded goods and moved silently on.
One says, “Oh! Look at that! Oh no — that! How about that? No — that there!”
Circus Circus is a popular hotel and casino that caters to children young and old and offered free parking. It was then we took to walking. For some reason, Circus Circus allowed children into the gaming areas. It was sad to watch people lose their money — all hoping on that next pull.
Hungry, we searched for a place to eat. Our grandfather graciously gave The Mom $50 to treat to a nice dinner. So we decided on Las Vegas. She heard the food was cheap since the gaming revenue subsidized things like dining.
There was a dining room on the ground floor, offering several cheap specials and buffets, but there was nothing ‘Puttin’ on the Ritz’ about it. It was just an eatery for the cash-strapped and the weary and the early aged — a fast place to eat before strapping on the seat belt for another run on the slots.
We left Circus Circus and walked the streets. After much arguing, we settled on the Riviera Casino. It offered a huge dinner buffet at a basement price. The place wasn’t as “ritzy” as we had imagined, but we also didn’t have “ritzy” funds or “ritzy” clothes.
But there was a grand assortment of pedestrian delicacies: manicotti, roast beef, sweet-and-sour chicken, candied carrots, mashed potatoes, and the list goes on. I had a heaping helping of everything — glass of milk? Yep. Soda? Yep. Two desserts? Yep. Yep.
Explode later? Almost.
The Family of Bowne then stalked the Strip again
Free, small pornographic magazines were available for free in these tiny boxes. I reached for one — and The Mom said, “No you don’t, Mister!”
Is Las Vegas the best place for family fun and The Mom? I was, after all, 19, right?
Fireworks exploded in the distance. It was, after all, the Fourth of July.
The Mom then played the nickel slot machines at our Casino de Campground. She lost about ten cents. Noelle was so paranoid about being caught in the gaming area — you know, by the Vegas Federales — we left sooner than we wanted. We quickly searched for a way out of the chaos.
Chaos can be family and Wally Chapstick, too.
Had we seen enough of Las Vegas? Yes.
It was late. The temperature, hot — the hottest night on this trip. I slept stripped on top of the sheets, and no strippers either.
Tomorrow, we begin the trip towards the Grand Canyon — that “big hole.”
Thanks, Chuck!
