August 24, 2003 9:31 P.M.

Welcome to Afghanistan



Well, it does look like Afghanistan.

Until you see the massive structure, the cars, the tourists, and the boats on Lake Mead.

Then it looks like Hoover Dam.

My younger son and I had driven over to his sister�s home in Henderson, NV (see previous journal entry), and he happened to mention that he had never seen �the Dam�.

It is about a 40 minute drive over to see it, so we thought, �why not?�

I guess we found out �why not� almost as soon as we arrived. It FELT like Afghanistan! The temperatures varied, depending upon our elevation as we descended deep into the gorge of the Colorado River. Our proximity to asphalt effected the temperature greatly too. And we were very close to asphalt from the beginning to the end of our little excursion. In fact, it is an asphalt world, inside a rocky gorge, below sea level, near Lake Mead (where I understand it �is always hotter.�) And the driving temperature there was about 118 degrees F.

Oh yes, there was also a hot wind blowing through the canyon. Hot winds do not cool you down, even when soaked with perspiration.

There is usually bumper to bumper traffic traveling very slowly through and across the Dam. This is not only because it is a huge tourist attraction, but also is due to the fact that it is the main route from Las Vegas, south to Kingman, AZ and I-40 going east to west. So in addition to the normal passenger vehicles, there are moving vans, busses, trucking rigs, and whatever happens to travel from one interstate to another.



The highway narrows down to two lanes across the dam, and as you approach on either side, there are Government checkpoints which all of the dam traffic passes through. (See my journal entry of April 14, �Water, Water Everywhere�.) This is one checkpoint I do not mind. If a terrorist ever did major damage to this particular facility, we would have a southwestern repeat of the power grid outage in the east last week. Only it would be much worse. Because reconstruction would have to take place. It took several years to build the dam in the 30�s. The southwest�at least�would be shut down.



As do most historic sites, this monument has its own gift shop, huge parking structure, and sells a limited variety of refreshing beverages and confections. My 9 year old grandson took great delight in being able to use a word he could never use under any other circumstances, as he talked about the dam gift shop, the dam restrooms, the dam elevator, etc., giggling all the while.

Since 9/11, security has been added at the entrance to the tour of the dam infrastructure. Every carry-in purse, bag, camera or other is fed through x-ray equipment and everything is checked. By the time we parked the car, walked downhill to the entrance to the interior of the dam, and saw the inspection process, we decided that we would just settle for an exterior view of things. So we began the pretty grueling trek back uphill, where we endeavored to make a mad dash for the air-conditioned Dam Gift Shop. Our dash was more like a drag, and we felt as if we had just crossed the finish line of a marathon, upon entering the doors. We stood directly under the a.c. vent, wiping our brows with Kleenexes, and tried to recoup strength enough to get back up a level or two to the parking lot, and into the car.

Now, maybe I am making it sound a little worse than it was. But not really. So why was it, that afterward we felt like we had a really good time, and had created some fun memories? Because that was true. It had been fun.

I saw sections of old town Boulder City which I had never seen. Beautiful, well kept landmark homes on a residential hillside high above Lake Mead. An historic hotel with a vintage appearance, but outfitted as modern lodging for tourists.

We all agreed that it was an exceptional experience. After all, we did survive, and if we had gone on a cool day in Spring, what would we have had to talk about!


Thanks for reading. I think I am really a frustrated travel writer. (Bill Bryson IS one of my favorite authors.)


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