What an amazing country this is. You can almost start to appreciate why so few Americans hold passports when you're here. There really is something for everyone. In a matter of a week, we've gone from breathtaking (literally at 10,000 ft) wilderness in the Sierra Nevada to the Disney-on-speed excess of Vegas, via Death Valley.
Here's a little potted history of the last week or so.
The Sierra Nevada
The Big Man wanted to see Big Trees, so Sequoia Natural Park - home to the General Sherman Sequoia tree (the largest living thing on the planet) seemed like a natural place to go.
Al had his heart set on the Mineral King area. The 26-mile road leading to this part of Sequoia has 968 bends (or curves, as the Americans call them in the mother of all understatements) and takes 1.5 hours to drive. As a result, most people stick to the main drag, in so doing, missing out on some truly spectacular back country. Our camping spot was next to a mountain stream at 7,500 ft, complete with fire ring (on which you cook), a picnic table and a bear safe. This is effectively a large metal box into which you are obliged to store all food and anything else with a scent (news to me - bears have a penchant for soap). You can't leave it in your car, as bears can use their claws to peel apart your motor like you or I would open a can of beans.
Sadly (no, perhaps gladly, given the fact above) we have seen no sud-loving bears yet, but plenty of other wildlife. Our favourites so far have been the chickadees. Not just a term of endearment, but also a critter than looks much like a small stripy squirrel. Perhaps we could keep some in our new garden in Cheltenham? We've also met marmots (not as sweet as they sound - as you sit admiring a marmot mum and her babes, her relative is likely to be under your bonnet chewing through your electrics, or perhaps your brake cables). We also met an inquisitive chipmunk while we ate our lunch beside an eerily silent mountain lake at 10,000ft.
At this elevation, a mild incline makes you puff as your body calls out for more oxygen. Our two 8-9 mile hikes while we were in Mineral King certainly counteracted the artery-clogging breakfasts we've been enjoying (of which more later). However, the wide views of the Sierra Nevada from that altitude are truly worth the screaming lungs.
We were more than ready for a motel by the time we left the Sierra Nevada and after 8 nights camping. US campsites are pretty amazing - most have showers and proper 'rest rooms', though in our last three nights in the mountains, we were reliant on our mountain stream for showers - more refreshing than effective. As a result, by the time we rolled into Vegas - via Death Valley - we were pretty stinky. Al was sporting a fine Californian-style beard (do they love their facial hair), and I was looking decidedly grimy and - let's face it - a bit Beth Ditto in the underarm department.
Death Valley
So, we'd seen the largest living thing on the planet, now for the hottest place on earth - Death Valley. After an early start from our camp spot in the southern Sierra Nevada, we hit Death Valley pretty much at midday. Talk about mad dogs and Englishmen, though even the hounds had more sense than this.
Like so much US scenery, Death Valley is massive and spectacular. Unbelievable that those white settlers who stumbled through in 1849 ever made it out. We stepped out of the car at 117 degrees F (about 46deg C) and it was like a hair dryer. Further on, the car thermometer registered 124deg F. After about an hour's drive through the valley, which no other visible living thing save your fellow crazy English visitors, it begins to weigh down on you. Will we ever get out of here? Will the chevy make it? After 2 hours driving through mile after mile of this arid salt-encrusted landscape, we were glad to be finally climbing up out of the valley and to see the thermometer drop.
Glad we went, glad we didn't have to stay any longer.
To Vegas!
What can I write about Vegas that hasn't already been said? You have to see it to believe it. 110 deg F, more fake titties than I've ever seen and 'hotels' the size of Euro-Disney.
We leave $120 richer between the two of us, having had a cracking night out at New York New York casino with some new-found Georgian friends, BeeBee, Matthew and Huntley. Love the names, guys, love the accents more. Thanks, Ezequiel, our Mexican croupier, for our happy lucky evening.
So, off back for a dose of wilderness to purge our bodies of the toxic artificialities and excess of Vegas (free drinks - good but bad, yeah?).
Breakfast deserves a separate posting - too big to put down here, so will end this for now.
Hope UK is happy and, dare I hope, sunny? Let's hope they've got it right about the forecast for 14th so you guys get some sun.
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