Saint George – Callville Bay – Las Vegas: 178 km

Todd rides us to Moapa, so we can skip the highway that we’ve been advised not to cycle on by numerous people. The shoulder is extremely thin, full of debris and the road is heavily travelled, largely by trucks. He drops us off at Moapa town. From there we ride into a quiet road that leads into the desert. We’re still have a smile from ear to ear from the time had with Todd and Sherrie. We say our goodbyes to Utah and all its beauty, and we slowly paddle into the Nevada desert.  

Today is hard. It might be the heat, the unexpectedly steep climbs, or the fact that we’ve had some rest days. Usually, I get better after those. We stray off route to visit the nearby Valley of Fire. That name should give you an idea of today’s temperatures. It’s nearing, of not exceeding 40 degrees Celsius again. We take it slow, drink as much as we can wherever we can. The creeks and streams on the maps on our phones may have existed at some point in time, now they’re currently completely dried up. That’s not a good sign for us. We planned to camp next to one of those rivers. Without water we won’t be able to cook or drink tonight. And we severely need to do both. There are hardly any cars who we can ask for water. We must push on. My legs are getting more and more tired, my state of mind is one of quitting asap.  There’s a little harbour about 30 kilometres from our original destination that we decide to check out. I’m hungry, thirsty and annoyed that today is so hard and that we’re not sitting in our folding chairs next to our tents yet. Then the sun sets, and it takes my bad mood away. I think it does the same for Marijn. The sand and the rocks change colour every five minutes. So does the sky. We ride towards where it hides behind the mountains, in some corners we can see the lights of Las Vegas glittering. It cools down a little. In the dark the desert seems quieter. For long, we ride in complete darkness. It’s actually amazing. A completely different experience. We find a campground near the harbour where we have mac and cheese from a box and a shower from our water bag. We’re almost asleep before we’re in our tents.

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“LAS VEGAS BABY!”, we cry out every other kilometre as we’re getting closer. That’s what you’re supposed to say, right? Today is coincidentally also my birthday. A birthday in Sin City. We hadn’t really planned it out like that, but now we’re here, and I love the cliché. Marijn has gotten me two nights at the local Hilton Inn, and treated himself to the same present. We eat In-And-Out as a birthday lunch. Once at the hotel, the first thing we do is sit in the pool and wash away the heat from yesterday.

Vegas has never attracted me much. Yet now that we’re here, I’m ready to emerge myself in the kitsch, and the gambling and the… well, what else can you really do here? Maybe see a show. Without a plan but to eat oysters we set out. The city lights are incredible. I’ve seen them on pictures, now actually here I’m somewhat surprised this place actually exists. Fake everything. Fake Eiffel Tower, fake Egyptian pyramids and Roman colosseum to name but a few. But we all know it’s fake, so you can’t be mad about it. Still, we all take pictures of the plastic waterfalls, sail little boats trough syrofoam Venetian Grand Canal and pose with a replica of the Statue of Liberty.

At the oyster bar we get to know some girls, casually having oysters after their shift in the building.

“Want to come to a show?”

“Obviously!”, we’re so eager we almost yell.

Before we do, we go to an après ski bar, where the fake snow drizzles from the screens that pretend to be windows. Everything is pretend, what a strange place. The girls get us drinks and pizza. Normally it’s the other way around, yes still, so it’s pretty cool that we’re being treated this time. Also, they work here and probably don’t have to pay, so I don’t feel bad about it. The show is next door, and it is stunning. I have forgotten the storyline completely, but that is only because of the performers in-between, the actual stars of the show. There’s a sword eating comedian, a ballet dancer tied to the roof with her hair, a bubble artist, the craziest jugglers I’ve ever seen and probably some more I can’t remember. But time has come to do some gambling.

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After the show we make our way to the MGM casino. Or was it the Mirage? The night is somewhat blurry by now. We gamble. I’m not very big on it. I had expected the happy crowds from the movies, that throw their dice towards the camera and win screaming, hugging, kissing and dancing. They’re not here. It’s an almost quiet atmosphere. Tense. People sit at the sables, staring focused at the next card, next number or next roll that might bring them fortune, bur probably [opposite of fortune]. Marijn and I both take some money out and promise it’s the only money we’ll spend. Marijn loses most of it at black jack. I double my stakes at roulette, but we both squander it at the same table. Oh well, fun to see, not so much to do for me. But we had a perfect night. We’ve seen Vegas’ lights, its casino’s, tasted its atmosphere, met great people, and saw a really nice show. Time for bed.  

The next day we mainly stay so we don’t have to cycle after a night out. We cycle around town. Las Vegas is a sad place that pretends to be happy. It pretends really hard, but it’s easy to see through the facade. In the old part of the town the houses are foreclosed, windows boarded up, casino’s mouldering, motels ripe for CSI episodes. I might be wrong, but it’s a place that is built for people from outside, visitors, selling itself, soulless. We’re having fun however, riding the strip up and down, playing with the cars. We are visitors after all. That night we get a couple of beers and just sit down somewhere. People watching. Not sure if there’s a better place on earth to do that. They come in all sizes and colours, from every nook and cranny of the world, all elated, in their best outfits. The density of crazy ones, or maybe less normal ones, is high here. It’s heaven to watch them pass by. I’m glad I’ve gotten to experience Las Vegas, I’ll probably never come back.