Great Expectations

It was the worst of times, it was the best of times. Our trip was Dickensian.

The flight down was uneventful. Everything went right. Even Luis at Alamo was an awesome guy and upgraded our car to my Dream Car. (still want to buy one, that's not a good sign)

We ate at Chillis because we don't have one up here. I know, right? Then we settled into the hotel. About half of our friends were already there but it was just too late to meet up, Vegas time or not.

We went to Las Vegas Motor Speedway on Thursday. We got to see all of our friends and hang with the cool kids. Kevin, having raced there before and being Dale's crew chief, has a new street cred that neither of us are quite used to.

That night we met our friends for dinner and went up the Stratosphere Tower. I've been up there numerous times and it still kind of freaks me out. It's almost twice as tall as the Space Needle.

So, there's the SkyJump now, where you can actually jump off the tower. The regular rides usually make me nauseous but this one is inconceivable.

Our friend M, who is like a BFF to me when we actually see each other, convinced me to literally
lay down on the floor and look over the edge to watch the jumpers. The tower is 1149 feet tall so it's safe to say that I was looking down 1000 feet.

OH. EM. GEE.

I don't scare easily, heights don't normally bother me but HOLY WOW. I don't understand why someone would jump off a building with a perfectly working elevator.

See that speck on the right, just at the top of the tower supports? That is an actual person.

I didn't stay at the racetrack the whole day the next day. I went back to the hotel and just chilled out. After running around, it felt good to have no place to be and no nothing to do.

We went to Fremont Street with our friends on Friday night. It was a full moon and you could feel it in the vibe of the crowd. What is normally the human circus was twice as circusy. You can't say you've been to Vegas unless you've gone to Fremont. Strippers, street artists, crazy people, drunk people, impersonators, you name it.

By now the weather had changed. WINDY, high fifties, and cold. Desert wind is chilling. It truly felt like November. There was no way I was going to hang out at the track. But the boys stayed as our friend that Kevin chiefs for qualified well and needed an extra hand.

I went to the Titantic Exhibit which was wonderful. That exhibit warrants it's own post. Then I wandered through the Venetian, my favorite place in Vegas. It is such a beautiful place. I also explored the Conservatory of the Bellagio. I wish I could see it decorated for Christmas because the fall decorations were gorgeous. It was nearly impossible to get any good photographs.

Sunday was the finals. I watched the first round of eliminations then went back to the hotel for awhile because it was freaking cold. As luck would have it, D advanced round by round. I came back to watch him race the semi-final, where he lost against one of the fastest cars there. He placed third out of 53 of the fastest cars in the States. Very impressive and we were so proud.

Monday was a travel day. We had breakfast with D then left for the airport. We arrived with plenty of time, just to discover that our flight had been delayed 45 minutes. It didn't occur to us to find out why.

We boarded 45 minutes late and headed home. We hit Seattle and it began to snow. Not a good sign. The pilot made three attempts to land in Bellingham (20 minutes from our house) until finally coming onto the radio and actually said "We've exceeded the capabilities of the aircraft and cannot continue. We are returning to Portland because SEATAC is closed."

We landed in Portland and once the wheels touched down, everyone applauded. Now that's a bad flight. Then it got worse.

"We are taking you back to Las Vegas" was the next words we heard. Wait. What? Because of the weather and upcoming holiday, they couldn't guarantee a)hotel b) return flight and c)ground transportation so their solution was to return to Vegas, on their dime and stay until Wednesday, At Best.

Debate, Discussion, Debate. We decided to get off in Portland because it was within driving distance because Vegas was not so much.

Again, Alaska Airlines ROCKS. They comped our hotel, food, and transportation. It was a nice hotel, not a Bates Hotel, and they delivered every promise they made.

The Nephew and girlfriend returned to Vegas and had a good time. I almost wish we had as well but it just wasn't worth the risk to us.

A charter bus brought us home, almost literally home. The driver was kind enough to drop us off at the freeway exit, one mile from our house.

We made a few friends along the way. "Bad Luck Guy", and a retired air traffic controller in his seventies, two fellow racers from Mission that we hadn't met before, and a married couple who live not far from our home track in Mission. It was a scene from a movie.

So, worse of times: cold beyond belief, 24 hour delay home, scary flight. Best of times: D placing third, bought the best sweatshirt, and watched crazy people on the Stratosphere & Fremont, hung with our friends.

I am glad to be home.