I spent the weekend in Seattle with my mom, and while we were there, we did all the usual Seattle things.

We walked Pike’s Market.  We took pictures from the Space Needle.  And we saw a giant 26-foot high, 8-ton status of Anubis floating on a barge through Portage Bay.

Wait, what?

Stay with me here…

The annual opening of boating season in Seattle was this weekend, and it’s always celebrated with a number of special events, including a boat parade on Lake Union.

But this year’s parade, titled “Porthole to Paradise”, included one truly unique addition.

This year, a 26-foot, 8-ton statue of Anubis was part of the parade.

The huge Anubis statue was arriving in Seattle as a part of the upcoming Tutankhamun: The Golden King and the Great Pharaohs exhibit, which opens at the Pacific Science Center on May 24.

It’s the final U.S. showing of the exhibition that has been traveling the country showcasing ancient treasures on loan from Egypt since 2008.

Yeah, that giant sculpture floating through the bay is an ancient treasure on loan from Egypt.

And here’s your mini history lesson of the day: Anubis is the Greek name of the mythical creature from the Book of the Dead, which determines a dead person’s worth by weighing the heart.  Ancient Egyptians also believed he guided souls and oversaw mummy embalming.

It was transported into Seattle aboard a 72-foot long barge.

A 26-foot-high, 8-ton, Egyptian jackal-headed protector of the afterlife floating through the bay: Truly one of the most unique things I’ve seen during my travels.

I had seen it land at Edwards Air Force Base as a kid in the ’80s, so when I heard the Space Shuttle Discovery was going to be doing low-altitude flyovers in Washington, D.C., during my trip, I was elated.

The shuttle is on the way to its permanent new home at the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum.

And it flew in earlier today on top of a modified 747.

Here’s a photo of Discovery as it arrived in our nation’s capital.

“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

That’s the clever phrase the Las Vegas Visitor Authority coined to encapsulate the sexy naughtiness of their adult playground in the desert.

I go to Vegas, on average, three or four times a year.  Living in Los Angeles, the 275-mile drive can be done in less than four hours, and because the city has been saddled with a glut of hotel rooms ever since the recession started, it’s one of the easiest and cheapest weekend getaway options.

But I’ve never really understood the whole “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas” thing.  Usually when I go to Vegas, the only thing that stays there is a couple hundred bucks lost at the blackjack or craps table.

That all changed this past weekend, when I invaded Sin City with five of my closest friends for a bachelorette party.

It was a trip unlike any of the others preceding it.

I’m contractually obligated to not reveal specific details.  C’mon, that would totally defeat the whole “…stays in Vegas” thing.

But I get it now.

Over the span of 36 hours, our experience included, but was not limited to: the Cirque du Soleil show Zumanity, Marquee nightclub, an all-night talk with a random stranger, a lost cell phone, a lost ID, a German stripper, phallus cupcakes, a blowup doll, a ripped and see-through dress, a limousine, exposed body parts, bottle service at Tryst, dancing on the table, making out, and getting naked in the hotel elevator.  And that’s just the stuff I CAN talk about!

Delicious baked goods and dollar bills. Totally wholesome!

For most of those experiences, I was simply a spectator.  But my perception of Vegas, and humanity in general, may never be the same.

It was wild.  It was crazy.  It was exhausting.  It was embarrassing at times.  It was a weekend I will NEVER forget.  But most of all, it was unbelievably fun.

Next month, when I see these girls again, it will be the day of the wedding.  I assume we’ll exchange some knowing glances, some sly smiles, and won’t speak a single word about any of it.

He got his degree in chemistry. I know because I asked.

The Sahara Hotel and Casino in Vegas is set to close in May, and man I’m going to miss that dump.  Sure, it was old and dingy.  Sure, it was a little off the beaten path.  Sure, I always checked the closet, the shower, and underneath the bed for dead bodies and/or murderers anytime I stayed there.  But, you know what, it was cheap.  And in a city that’s dominated by overpriced billion-dollar resorts, I appreciated Sahara’s value.

You never knew what you'd find when you stayed at Sahara

Perhaps I’m more sentimental about Sahara because it’s where I stayed for my 21st birthday in 2004 (which also happened to be the weekend of the Kentucky Derby).  And again to celebrate New Year’s Eve in 2006.  And still once again over a long Memorial Day weekend last year.  I guess what I’m saying is that Sahara was always there for me when I couldn’t AFFORD to stay anywhere else.  Rooms at the big-name Strip resorts were running more than $400 a night for New Year’s weekend, while I got THREE nights at the Sahara for less than half that total.  And you know what?  I kind of enjoyed making up stories about where each knife slash and stain in the carpet came from. 

These slashes were clearly from a drug deal gone awry...

Ok, so maybe it was annoying that the TV never seemed to work properly, and, yeah, I was always a little scared that the elevator was going to give out at any time, and okay fine, the NASCAR-themed stuff in the lobby wasn’t really for me.  But having $1 blackjack available right downstairs was a treat worth making sacrifices for.  The dealers and the clientele weren’t stuffy like any of the other Strip hotels.  I had some of the most interesting conversations of my life while playing table games at the Sahara.

I'm pretty sure we upgraded to the "Deluxe" tower to get this sweet pad

It wasn’t luxurious, but it was always fun.  And in Vegas, that’s really all I’m looking for.  So it’s with a heavy heart that I bid farewell to my OG Strip hotel.  Thanks for the memories…

After spending several days in New Orleans for New Year’s,  it’s difficult to piece everything together in a coherent and/or chronological manner.  Fortunately the photographic evidence of our visit isn’t incriminating.  Here are some thoughts and pictures from our time in New Orleans…

***

There isn’t much to do in New Orleans beyond the French Quarter.  Okay, that’s not fair, there is stuff — some parks and a zoo — but nothing special enough to risk getting mugged or killed to see (yes, it really is that dangerous).  Since the French Quarter is really the only thing that’s specific and unique to New Orleans, you’ll spend a lot of time there — as we did.

There’s two ways you can go with this: drink your ass off or learn some history.  The drinks will find you.  You have to find the history.  Since people usually go with the route of less work, drinking takes precedence.

But we’re equal opportunists — and multi-taskers! — so we took the booze with us and went searching for the back stories, not a difficult thing to do when every street features a plaque detailing some interesting history. 

Take, for instance, the Le Pretre Mansion, where in 1839, a Turkish man, who was the brother of a sultan, was found dead in ritualistic fashion alongside a bevy of young beautiful women that the Turk apparently stole from the sultan.  Their murders remain an unsolved mystery (though using our detective skills, we’ll venture a guess and say it was the sultan) and some people say you can still hear the screams of the victims on some nights.

Then there’s the LaBranche House, which is considered the most photographed house in all the French Quarter.  Since that’s the case, here’s another to add to the collection.

This is the Le Monnier Mansion, the first “skyscraper” in the French Quarter.  Just look at it scraping the sky four stories high.

Since you can get kind of bogged down with details about unfamiliar historical figures, it’s just fun to walk through the French Quarter and admire the architecture and the ironwork on the balconies without fear of being vomited on (that’s specific to Bourbon Street, which is aesthetically the least attractive, but most fun, street in the French Quarter anyway).

***

People on the East Coast travel to Atlantic City to drink, gamble and party.  West Coasters head to Las Vegas.  Southerners and Mid-westerners go to New Orleans.

But the great thing about New Orleans is that it’s a condensed version of both of those cities.  You don’t have to take a taxi to strip club or wander from bar to bar at the hotels, all your vices are conveniently located on Bourbon Street.  That makes it so much easier, and so much more dangerous.  Because inevitably you’ll wind up smashed — and broke — much faster.

***

We only saw three — count ‘em, THREE — nude breasts on Bourbon Street. That’s one and a half women, or just one three-boobed girl from Total Recall.

Oddly, we saw a lot of nude man-boobs. The tradition of flashing for beads has now been adopted by men. Perhaps it’s to guide women who are confused about how to obtain beads by sacrificing their integrity, or men just like cheap plastic beads as a fashion statement.

***

You can’t walk down Bourbon Street without seeing people drinking a hand grenade.  It’s supposedly the strongest drink available (though we’re pretty sure the smoothies made with Everclear are much more potent), which is why it’s also the most popular.  Plus, any drink that comes in a device that looks like a weapon is good in our book.

But the drink we loved the most is an overlooked little treasure called The Shark Attack.  It’s not just the ingredients that make this drink great, it’s also the production value.  When you order a Shark Attack, the bartender furiously rings a bell, flicks on a siren and alerts everyone to “get out of the water!”  Then he takes a plastic toy shark, fills it with grenadine and jams it into a cup, making it look as if the shark just brutally killed someone.  Something tells us that a real shark attack isn’t this fun.

Another drink that is exclusive to New Orleans is sazerac, a combination of cognac, rye whiskey and absinthe. Yes, it’s just as strong as it sounds. But it’s a much more refined drink you’d find in a classy bar away from Bourbon Street.

***

We don’t know how people eat Cajun and Creole food on a regular basis.  Even more confusing is how they stay alive past 28 years of age.

The food in New Orleans, while delicious, is frighteningly dense.  If it’s not fried, it’s made with five sticks of butter.

Famous charbroiled oyster at Acme Oyster House

We felt disgustingly unhealthy and bogged down after every meal, which included gumbo, jambalaya, pasta, fries with gravy, fried seafood, muffuletta sandwiches and po boy sandwiches.

At one point we needed a break to eat something healthy and combat the ill effects of eating all that dense food.  Finding a restaurant that serves food even remotely healthy was a challenge in and of itself.  We finally came upon a sandwich shop near our hotel that served salads.

So I ordered a tuna salad… which the woman behind the counter made with her bare hands… immediately after washing down a counter with a dirty rag.  We’re positive that there is no such thing as a health standards office in Louisiana.

Beignets at Cafe du Monde

***

You know a city is dangerous when you receive more than one warning from the locals.  For the most part we heard a simple “stay safe” or “be careful.”  But this one lady who saw us walking down St. Charles, a busy thoroughfare by the way, came right up to us and without even introducing herself or saying hi went right into this: “What you need to do is take that camera off your neck and hide it in your sweater, because someone will come up to you and hit you and steal your camera.  And they’ll steal whatever else you got too.  So don’t be looking around like you’ve never seen any of this before.  You keep your eyes forward, act like you know where you is and hide your valuables.”  How comforting.

Honestly, out of all the cities we’ve visited, New Orleans has been the only city where we constantly felt unsafe.  This sign didn’t help any…

***

Speaking of St. Charles, the ride on the street cars is a lot of fun… if you can get on them.  If you don’t get on at the first or last stop, you’re not getting on; tourists remain on the street car for the entire ride up and down St. Charles.  And since nobody gets off, nobody gets on.

***

Voodoo is awesome.  Why put effort into having someone fall in love with you when you can just put a spell on them?  It’s the lazy person’s way of getting what they want.

But now it’s mainly a tourist trap.  The French Quarter is littered with voodoo shops selling potions, spell packets, puppets, masks, candles and other fascinating and bizarre artifacts for people who are curious about voodoo but too scared to mess with the real thing.

On the other hand, people who truly believe in voodoo head to St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 to visit the graves of Marie Laveau and her daughter of the same name, both of whom were high priestesses in Louisiana voodoo.  It’s said that if you place an offering and write three X’s on their tomb, your wish will be granted.

Some of the offerings were just silly, like Blockbuster membership cards, a Walmart gift card, empty bottles of beer, dead batteries, beads… but the one offering that really freaked us out was a dead snake.

Everyone knows that when you sacrifice an animal, your wish is always fulfilled.

***

We stayed at this really nice hotel called The Roosevelt, which had beautiful holiday decorations set up in the lobby.

As classy as that was, we couldn’t get over the fact that the tile on the floor looked like boobs.

***

When the New Year’s crowd left, fans of Arkansas and Ohio State took over the city for the Sugar Bowl.  Suddenly the streets were overrun with unfamiliar chants and confusing terminology.  The fans seemed to get along despite rooting for different teams, but we felt completely out of place.

But that didn’t stop us from attending an Arkansas pep rally at the Sugar Bowl Fan Fest.  We’ve never watched an Arkansas football game, let alone even been to the state of Arkansas, but this was such a random opportunity for two people from Southern California that we couldn’t pass it up.  Plus, we got to see the Sugar Bowl trophy, which was of no significance to us, but still impressed us with how important it looked.

***

In all honesty, we stayed way longer in New Orleans than we should have.  Two days is a perfect amount of time to check out the opulent houses in the Garden District, walk the French Quarter, drink the night away on Bourbon Street and recover for half a day before going out one last time in an attempt to accumulate as many beads as possible.  Just make sure to bring a Power Bar to offset all that Cajun cuisine.

The New Year’s experience in New Orleans is exactly what you expect: it’s all about drinking.  That’s really no different than every city around the world.  The only thing that makes the experience in New Orleans unique is drinking with people with Southern accents (an accent which becomes even more amusing when alcohol impairs their speech).  Other than that, there’s nothing particularly special about it.

Sure, it’s cooler to get crazy on Bourbon Street than Main Street in some small town in the middle of nowhere.  But the New Year’s celebration in New Orleans is modest — shocking for a city that abandoned modesty when the first girl flashed her boobs for plastic beads.

It doesn’t have the glitz and glam of celebrations in other major cities.  There weren’t any big name live performances.  There wasn’t a spectacular fireworks show.  And the theatrics never got off the ground… literally.

When we celebrated New Year’s in Berlin, the crowd was so dense that we couldn’t get within a quarter-mile of Brandenburg Gate three hours before midnight.  In London, we had to reserve a spot in front of the London Eye four hours before the turn of the year.  In New Orleans, we were able to stroll right up to a small stage in Jackson Square just 30 minutes before the New Year.

Even more disappointing than the crowd, which was substantial in size but not a raging mass of excited people like we expected, was a show that seemed to lack planning — and a budget.  Everyone stood around curiously, waiting for a countdown announcement since there were no TV screens or clocks to work people into a frenzy as the time approached midnight.

So it was a shock to the crowd when a voice came over the speakers and unexpectedly started counting down “10, 9, 8…”  (Come on, even football has a two minute warning.)

As the countdown continued, everyone looked to the top of the Jax Beer building where a small fleur-de-lis was supposed to drop, similar to the ball in Times Square.  That never happened.  The illuminated fleur-de-lis was already at the bottom.  Either someone forgot to hoist it, or the 90% humidity caused it to slip down the pole hours earlier and no one noticed.

It was an appropriate way to signal the start of an underwhelming fireworks display that got so boring that after a few minutes, the crowd dispersed and moved to the bars to get their drink on.

We left after the finale, already covered in an unflattering sheen of sweat from the damp air, and were easily able to maneuver our way through the crowd on Bourbon Street and get into Tropical Isle, a popular bar serving up one of New Orleans’ most popular — and potent — drinks, the hand grenade.

We happened to run into two guys we had met the night before — which goes to show just how small the crowd really was — and had a great time drinking the night away with them.

When things started to slow down around 3 a.m., we went our separate ways and stumbled over empty cups, mounds of trash and unclaimed beads that covered Bourbon Street on our way to the hotel.  At this time, Vegas would still be going strong.

That’s why we’re baffled that New Orleans trumped not only Las Vegas but a bunch of other major international cities that routinely make the list of best places to celebrate New Year’s.  We guess it’s because the people who voted for New Orleans couldn’t remember how it was after a night of drinking.  Though that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

After our road trip to Sedona and Tucson, the plan was to drive home as quick as possible.  No breaks, no rest stops, just get there.

Everything was going according to plan… for about an hour.  Then we saw this sign:

“Feed the ostriches”

Ostriches?  Those goofy looking things!  We had never seen an ostrich outside of cartoons when we were kids, so we immediately pulled off highway.

The signs got better and better.  “Feed the deer.”  “Feed the lorikeets.”  “Feed the donkeys.”

The Rooster Cogburn Ostrich Ranch in Picacho, Arizona sounded like paradise!  And it was… until we met the ostriches.

Ostriches are officially the a-holes of the animal kingdom.  Not that we blame them.  If we looked like a giraffe-turkey hybrid, we’d be pissed at the world too.

They’re not graceful at all.  There’s no delicacy in anything they do.  You know how small birds peck at food?  Well, imagine a 7-foot tall bird doing that.  Then suddenly those pecks go from cute to terrifying.

Here’s an example…

Cute:

Terrifying:

See!?

They don’t kindly and carefully take the food out of your hand.  They lunge at it.  And they pretty much miss every time.  So you have this big, powerful beak attached to a long, gawky neck that towers over you, and it’s pecking at you without any firm direction or regard for your safety.

It’s pretty cool to say we’ve actually fed an ostrich — how many people can say that they did that and didn’t lose a finger? — but it was a freakishly jarring experience.

The other animals were way more our style.

We fed the deer.

And the donkeys.

And the goats.

Notice how calm, cooperative and non-bitey they are?

However, the highlight was definitely the rainbow lorikeets.

We would totally go out of our way to visit this place again, especially to go on their monster truck tour.  But next time, the closest we get to the ostrich… is the ostrich jerky.

How well do you really know your neighbors?  Beyond the cursory “hellos”, you probably don’t know them THAT well.  But it’s always a safe idea to get to know your neighbors and stay on their good side.  That’s why we decided to go on a road trip to Arizona.

We’ve already visited two of California’s neighbors: Oregon, on our road trip to the Winter Olympics, and Nevada too many times to be considered healthy.  But for some reason we’ve overlooked Arizona.  It’s always the quiet, unassuming ones you’ve gotta watch out for.  So we embarked on a five-day mission to find out what Arizona is all about.  Here’s the official report…

***

We kept our schedule loose and flexible.  In fact, we didn’t do much research before we got into the car.  We were at the whim of any road signs that directed us to things that sounded important or interesting.

It only took few hours of driving before we came upon a sign that led us to our first detour: Montezuma Castle National Monument.

We’ve heard the name Montezuma before, but it’s always followed by the word “revenge,” which isn’t comforting when you’re driving miles out of your way to visit a place that could potentially strike you down with an explosive case of traveler’s diarrhea.

Fortunately, Montezuma Castle had nothing do with Montezuma’s revenge.  Actually, it didn’t have anything to do with the Aztec emperor Montezuma at all.  But it was kinda castle-ish.

Montezuma Castle is actually a cliff-dwelling built by the indigenous Sinagua people in the 8th century.  When European Americans stumbled upon it in the 1860s, they mistakenly attributed the cliff-dwelling to Montezuma, even though he never made it that far north.  But we don’t blame them for their mistake; it’s not like they were very good at geography.  Just stumbling upon this cliff-dwelling proves they were lost… it’s in the middle of nowhere.

Even though Montezuma Castle doesn’t look that big, it contains 20 rooms and used to house 50 people, kind of like an ancient college dorm but without Cheetohs and an XBox 360.  Must have been a miserable time.

***

When you’re driving, some highways offer picturesque views.  Most in Arizona don’t.

But every now and again you come upon a sight so unusual that it makes up for the boring drive.

This particular sight was on the I-17, about 30 minutes north of Phoenix.

We’re driving along, whizzing by big, bushy Juniper trees lodged in the median, when up ahead we see something peculiar.

There’s glimmering white strands and shimmering red orbs and a mess of shapes and colors about six feet high.

And as we get closer to it, we realize that it’s… a Juniper tree decorated like a Christmas tree.

None of the others had decorations.  Just this one random tree.

There are no towns close by, so someone had to go far out of their way to decorate this tree.  What’s really strange is that this particular tree has been decorated every November for the last 20 years, and no one knows who’s doing it, according to roadsideamerica.com.  We want answers.  This is too strange not to have a purpose.

***

It was sundown by the time we arrived at the Sedona Rouge Hotel & Spa, and since Sedona is only famous for two things, red rocks (which can’t be seen at night) and vortexes (which can’t be seen… ever), there was nothing else to do but eat dinner and hit the sack early.

The next morning we tested our motion sickness limits with an off-roading adventure by Pink Jeep Tours.  Sure, it kinda goes against what Sedona is known for — relaxation — but we made up for it by spending the rest of the day driving around, admiring the scenery and going on hikes.

We saw a church built into the rocks…

…walked around Bell Rock…

…spent a few quiet moments with nature inside a little canyon we stumbled across…

…and enjoyed a stroll on the rocks along Oak Creek.

But the coolest and most daring thing we did was hike up a steep climb to Overlook Point.

There were about 8 trails to the top.  We happened to the pick the most difficult.

But we didn’t realize that until later.

We saw an older, heftier couple making their way up the hill, and decided to take their route.  Lesson learned: it’s wrong to assume that just because people look physically incapable of climbing doesn’t mean they take the easiest path.

At one point, the trail narrowed, with steep drops on either side.  But we forged ahead.  Slowly.

Then a tree got in the way.  The only thing to do was to grip onto this pesky, flimsy little tree blocking the path and hope we don’t rip it out of the mountain and hurtle to our deaths.

When we finally made it to the other side of the tree, it looked like we hit a dead end.

We couldn’t go right because there was a drop.  We couldn’t go straight because there was a wall of rock.  And it didn’t look like we could go left because there was a sharp slope and clusters of unstable rock.

We had to make a life and death decision, and the verdict was… we had come too far.  We weren’t going to turn around now.

So we sprawled out, put our hands and feet on the rocks, and did our best Spider-man impression as we made our way across the slope.

It was all worth it for the spectacular view at the top.  We got to the pinnacle right as the sun dipped below the red rocks and the coyotes began to howl at the moon.

We spent an abnormally long time at Overlook Point coming up with a plan for how we would descend this thing, firmly believing that we might be stranded there until help arrived in the morning.

Then a family of seven showed up, making the climb look questionably simple.  They snapped a few photos, took in the vista and began to descend the mountain.  We immediately tagged along.

This route didn’t have any life or death moments.  No sharp drops.  No narrow passages.  No problematically placed trees.  It was an easy descent.

Next time we’ll read the placard at the base of the hill that lists the difficulty of the trails.

***

On the drive back to the hotel, we saw a deer dart out of the trees and bounce across four lanes of traffic, narrowly missing cars before it disappeared into the bushes.

About 50 yards later, we saw a deer crossing sign.

That would have been useful earlier.

***

We considered making our way east, through the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest, then doubling back and hitting the Grand Canyon, but on our last night in Sedona, the weather report forecasted major rainfall in that area so on a whim we decided to head south to Tucson.

On the way down to Tucson, another sign pulled us off the road: Casa Grande Ruins National Monument.

“Casa” means house.  “Grande” means big.  Big house?  Let’s check this prison out!

When we arrived, we realized it wasn’t the ruins of a prison, rather the remains of a 4-story adobe structure constructed by the ancient Hohokam people.

It’s a pretty impressive structure considering the resources they had… and the fact that it’s in the middle of nowhere.

***

Games are a great way to make the drive less boring.  So we brought along an electronic 20 Questions game.

If you’ve never played 20 Questions, it works like this: you think of something, like a bird, and the game asks you a series of questions in an attempt to guess what you’re thinking.  If it guesses the correct answer within 20 questions, it wins.  If not, you win.

That’s great and all… except the game is a cheating jerk.

Question #1 is really multiple questions.  “Is it a vegetable?  Mineral?  Animal?”

That’s three questions!  You can’t bend the rules like that.

Now, between every set of five questions, the game gets all cocky and mocks the user, saying degrading things like “I know what you’re thinking!”, “I’m going to win!” and  “That’s easy.”

Oh, really?  If it’s so easy, how come you couldn’t get my answer after 20 questions?  It had to ask FIVE more.  The game is called 20 Questions, not 20 Questions Or However Many Questions I Need To Get The Correct Answer.

Since it took 25 questions to figure out that we were thinking of “cloud,” we started coming up with things that the game would never guess, just to screw with it.  Things like “string theory” and “contempt.”

After making the game look like an idiot, we can safely say that artificial intelligence won’t be enslaving humanity any time soon.

***

We really didn’t know anything about Tucson until we arrived at our hotel and asked what there was to do.  The clerk suggested we take a scenic drive through Gates Pass and watch the sunset from a lookout.

***

Anytime we go to a city where Man Vs. Food has been, I have to try something.  Like the maple bacon doughnut in Portland.  Or the mission style burritos in San Francisco.  Or the chicken and waffles in Vegas.

This time we had to try a Tucson staple: the Sonoran hot dog.

It’s a bacon-wrapped hot dog shoved into a thick bun with warm pinto beans, chopped tomatoes and onions, shredded cheese, salsa, mustard and mayo.

Sounds kinda freaky, but it’s so good that it could lead to addiction.

***

We heard a lot of good things about this obscure store called Tucson Mineral And Gem World.  So we drove out to the desert to see what made this place so special.

Yeah, it has minerals and gems as advertised.  But that’s not what makes this place so fascinating.

Imagine walking into Indiana Jones’ house.  That’s what this place is like.

We couldn’t believe that some of these amazing artifacts were in a store instead of a museum.

Mummy wrappings.  30,000-year-old animal fossils.  Trinkets from ancient Egypt.  Dinosaur teeth, bones and petrified eggs.

But the coolest thing was when the owner came over and showed us the skull of a Mayan emperor named King Shield Jaguar III.

***

We’re fascinated by aircraft.  So when we found out that Tucson was home to one of the largest aerospace museums in the world, we had to check it out.

The Pima Air & Space Museum features about 300 aircraft spread over four hangars and acres of desert.

The most famous attraction is an SR-71 Blackbird.  This is one of the fastest planes ever.  The Blackbird still holds speed records, flying from New York to London in 1 hour and 54 minutes.  Wouldn’t it be nice if flights were always that fast?

***

If there’s anything we learned on this trip, it’s that Arizona is a pretty cool neighbor to have.  Hopefully they’ll invite us over more often.  Heck, even if they don’t, we’re coming back for Sonoran hotdog anyway.

Jackie says: "We love Arizona!"

Sedona, Arizona is famous for its stunning red rock formations.  But if you’re not an experienced outdoors-person, or you’ve recently watched 127 Hours and decided never to go hiking, the best way to get up close and personal with the rocks is through Pink Jeep Tours.

We heard a lot about them long before we visited Sedona last weekend.  They’re famous for being the first Jeep tour in the city, established in 1960, and they still have exclusive rights to some of the most scenic trails.  Plus, how often can you say you’ve ridden in a pink Jeep?  So we had to give it a shot.

They offer a range of tours, some aimed more at history, others more at scenery.  The closest we’ve ever been to off-roading is the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland, so we decided to go on their most adventurous tour: Broken Arrow.

This 2-hour tour is by far their most popular.  After traversing bumpy dirt roads, navigating turns and rappelling steep rocks, we can see why: the Broken Arrow trail is nature’s rollercoaster.

Luckily we had Reé as our driver.  She was the perfect guide: informative, playful, had that fun sarcastic Jersey attitude going on, and kept everyone feeling safe and secure, even when it seemed like we were going to play “Roll over Jeep, good Jeep!”  She knew when to hit the gas to raise everyone’s heart rate and when to slow down to take in the natural beauty of Sedona.

Like a good movie, the Broken Arrow tour starts with stunning views and ends with a thrilling climax.  After kicking up some mud and winding through cactus and trees, we stopped at Submarine Rock for a breathtaking panorama of Sedona.  Even on a cold and cloudy day, the landscape is still majestic.

Then the action picked up.  The trail gets more rugged and the hills get steeper on the way to Chicken Point.  When the Jeep suddenly tips forward and slowly makes its way down a rock at a 45 degree angle, you’ll understand why it’s called Chicken Point.

But that’s just a set-up for the big moment at the end of the tour when we descend the ominously titled “Road Of No Return,” a jagged and jarring trail that slopes so severely that the view outside the front window is completely dominated by red rocks and black skidmarks.

It’s an exciting conclusion to an adventurous tour that offers some of the beautiful vistas in Sedona.  So if you’re looking for a fun and unique way to explore Red Rock Country, give Pink Jeep Tours a shot.  You’ll be glad you did!

Pink Jeep Tours
204 North Highway 89A
Sedona, Arizona 86336
Reservations: 928.282.5000
Toll Free: 800.873.3662

Sedona, Arizona is famous for being a couples retreat and a great destination for hiking and off-roading.  But we didn’t go there for any of those reasons.  We just wanted to escape the storms that were pounding Southern California.

So we traded Mother Nature’s fury for Mother Nature’s beauty with a two-night stay at the Sedona Rouge Hotel and Spa.

This was a perfect choice for us because we wanted to stay somewhere that was close to the urban center — just a few minutes drive from the Tlaquepaque Arts & Crafts Village and Gallery Row — but far enough that we could enjoy the beautiful vistas of Red Rock country in peace and quiet.

One of the things we really liked about Sedona Rouge is that the design perfectly reflects the city.  It’s a small, intimate, peaceful place, with 77 rooms and suites, and spa rooms that borrow the deep red color of Sedona’s landscape to accentuate the hotel’s Spanish Mediterranian architecture.

We stayed in a room on the third floor that had vaulted ceilings and two giant windows, one overlooking the pool, jacuzzi and fitness center, the other dominated by Thunder Mountain, which is supposedly the inspiration for the ride of the same name at Disneyland.

Even though the room was equipped with a 32″ flat screen television, it was far more relaxing to crawl under the goose down duvet, spread out on the pillow top bed and admire the scenery.  When night fell, the hotel looked even more majestic.

Just when we thought it couldn’t get any better, we discovered that the spacious walk-in shower had two shower heads, one of which was a rainfall shower (yes, we realize the irony in running away from a rain storm only to deeply enjoy a rainfall shower).  The bathroom was stocked with fragrant soaps handmade in Sedona and soft Turkish towels.

When hunger finally pulled us out of the room, we went downstairs to Sedona Rouge’s bistro, Reds, which serves contemporary gourmet and comfort food.  We got there at the tail end of happy hour and savored a diverse range of delicious food — a mac and cheese skillet, barbeque chicken sandwich and ahi tuna — and two glasses of wine.

The only thing we didn’t get to check out was the spa, but Sedona Rouge has 4.5 stars out of 256 customer reviews on TripAdvisor and it’s been awarded AAA’s Four Diamond rating for the last four years, so you know it’s one of the very best in North America.

The facilities include facial rooms, a wellness room, a manicure/pedicure room and two couples treatment rooms, one with a private outdoor shower, the other with a sunken tub.  For those that desire additional pampering, there are even spa guest rooms that feature a soaking tub in the living quarters.

So if you’re looking for a romantic getaway or just want to stay in a cozy hotel with a spectacular view, the Sedona Rouge Hotel and Spa has you covered — even your pets (yes, it’s a pet-friendly hotel to boot).  We really can’t say enough good things about this place, so check ‘em out if you’re planning a trip to Sedona.

Sedona Rouge Hotel & Spa

2250 W State Route 89A
Sedona, AZ 86336
(928) 203-4111