We off. Las Vegas, ready or not, we are coming.
Down I-5 to Eugene. Take a left, over Willamet Pass, right to Klamath Falls. Now which exit did we take to find the Fred Meyer Fuel Stop? Where's the closest restroom? Let's splurge with a maple bar for Nan, a cherry turnover for Bill. On the road again.
Into California, down lonely roads with little traffic, but beautiful scenery to Susanville, then on to Reno.
Quick stop for gas, then desert driving to Hawthorne and our stop for the night, El Capitan Motel. This army depot town has nothing to redeem it but the McDonalds where we had breakfast last year, and will again this year. The locals are what make it worth visiting. They each bring their own coffee cup, the manager brings out a pot of coffee for them to share, and they solve the world's problems. This year they were worried about how many miles they would have to go to have their GM or Chrysler car repaired. Seven elderly men and one women who appeared to work in a local clinic. My question. . .why would anyone live in such a desolute place?
But we are on to Las Vegas to see the lights and hopefully make some money, the non-gambling kind.
We arrive about 1:30 pm, get in line at the convention center to unload. At exactly 2pm, as promised, they begin to let us in, unload our displays and merchandise onto a fork lift, take it to our booth. Now it's up to us to make it look presentable. We get things set up, lights up, and decide it's time for our annual trip to Hoover Dam. Stay tuned for the next installment . . .