I wanted a life of adventure. I wanted to travel. I wanted to work my way up to being Somebody. I wanted to leave a mark on the Earth and be remembered.

No story about Las Vegas should begin in Vegas. It is a place one goes, often rashly, and from which one returns often poorer in money and richer in experience. It is a crapshoot—pun intended—if the outcome will match the intention. Las Vegas will not disappoint, becoming a story one can tell in a bar, how one got an unfortunate tattoo, or drunkenly married a new acquaintance at the Little Vegas Chapel in front of an Elvis impersonator.

The winding turns around capes, the unclouded sky, the flower mottled hills existed only as an aspect of waiting. Towns, civilization, meant the possibility of stopping for a meal, for the night even. Deep forest preserves through which a dirt road cut, gorgeous vistas that made one in awe of nature, only meant we were not yet near our destination.

Campgrounds are never comfortable. They are merely less awful than other options. In normal circumstances, if told that the nearest available toilet was half a mile away, up a dirt path frequented by animals in gastric distress, one would lock the doors and speed to civilization. When a tent or camper is involved, one is jubilant. At least this site had flush toilets!

Las Vegas may have residents and not merely tourists, but it does not want to welcome you. You are swallowed. Maybe it will hack up your hair and bones later, but the oddsmakers are not on your side.

Airports don’t belong to the places where they are… They are like embassies.

On long car trips as a passenger, I lose my humanity exit by exit. When I drive, I am in control and have something on which I can focus: not killing myself or other drivers. As a passenger, I am made useless and impatient, aside from finding radio stations and playing “I Spy.

Fern Canyon smelled primeval, of the aerosol of waterfalls and the green earthiness of moss soft enough to trick naïve travelers into taking off their boots and sandals, unaware of the smooth rocks slick with river slime. The fallen trees served as handrails for people following their bliss by almost breaking their tailbones.