The best day in Vegas was, I think, the day we left Vegas. After spending time walking the strip and wandering in and out of hotels and fighting crowds of people, it was heavenly to hop on a bus and head to the Grand Canyon. With a short stop at Hoover Dam of course. You know the line from the Chevy Chase movie about going on the dam tour and taking some dam pictures. So now we’ve been there, done that. It was incredibly impressive.

The new road bypassing the dam has been completed, so that is the route we took. Past Mead Lake, with a water level down so low that what used to be the largest man-made lake with 550 miles of shoreline is now the largest man-made lake with 500 miles of shoreline. Dire things are predicted for the dam if the water levels in the area continue to drop. But like I said, incredibly impressive.

The bus driver, Steven, was a little disconcerting as he drove one-handed the entire way down the scary, winding road to the dam. The other hand was needed to hold the microphone, into which he talked non-stop for hours. Interesting stuff, though, about the evolution of Las Vegas from small town to mafia town to family vacation town to the current trend back to adult playground.

But the highlight was the amazing Grand Canyon. Really, there are no adjectives grand enough to describe the sight at Angel Bright lookout where the bus stopped and let us off for three short hours. Eighteen miles across and a mile deep.

They had received ten inches of show the day before, and the juxtaposition of the fresh white and the ancient rose and pink was just … beauty.

I kept thinking, I wish the boys were here. They would have loved it. I don’t really feel Vegas calling me back, but the Grand Canyon? Yes, I’d definitely go there again. I’d take the boys and stay in one of the old hotels on the rim and try some of the educational tourist things that are offered there. Helicopter tours and hikes and rafting and such.

That would be grand.

Creation Sings

Stuart Townend

Creation sings the Father’s song;
He calls the sun to wake the dawn
And run the course of day
Till evening comes in crimson rays.
His fingerprints in flakes of snow,
His breath upon this spinning globe,
He charts the eagle’s flight;
Commands the newborn baby’s cry…

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