From the sublime to the ridiculous …

After Yosemite, we wanted to get to Death Valley, but we also really fancied seeing the giant Sequoias, or Californian Redwoods. So, we headed down to what looked like the Giant Sequioa National Park on our rather scanty map. We ended up quite late at night at a little motel on Lake Isabella. When Joe had checked in, he came back with the news. Apparently, it was 5 hours to the Sequoias, and we should have gone there BEFORE Yosemite to avoid doubling back. Now, we’d driven a long way … this wasn’t the best news in the world. In the morning we decided to head straight to Death Valley, and sod the Sequoias. But Joe thought he had seen a sign for the Trail of 100 Giants not long before we arrived at Lake Isabella, and in the morning, we found it again quickly. This road wasn’t even on our map, neither was the only town signposted, and it looked like it headed straight up into the Sierra Nevada. Still, we thought we’d give it a go.

Yup, it headed straight up into the mountains, and it was one of those journeys that, unplanned, turn out to be the best. The scenery was amazing as we followed a creek (the Kern river) up and up, round hairpin bends and sleepy little towns that certainly weren’t on the map. It’s amazing how much colour there is on these high, arid mountains – all these bushes and trees literally clinging onto the sides of sheer mountains. The drive took hours … but eventually we saw signs again for this Trail of 100 Giants, and after crawling along at 15mph on mountain curves and grades (as the road signs kept warning), we eventually found the car park.

The 100 Giants were indeed sequoias, and although these didn’t have roads through them, they were BIG, and about 2,000 years old, and we were pretty much alone as we wandered through them. Absolute bliss, and welcome shade from the searing sun. The kids loved trying to count rings on fallen trees, spotting little ground squirrels, and counting the giants off one by one.

From here, we did indeed head back and get to Death Valley, but as this was one of Rowan’s must-see places, she is painstakingly writing the blog all about that.

From so much incredible beauty and remoteness, we came back down to earth with utter horror and shock – Las Vegas. What can I say. You know what to expect, but nothing can prepare you for the reality of the place. We were going to stay the night, walk the Strip and let the kids enjoy the whole disney-like experience, but after trying 2 motels and being there about 10 minutes we honestly knew there was no way we could stomach it. Yup, the kids were in heaven, looking at imitation Paris, MGM hotel complete with its on recreation of the NY skyline and a rollercoaster around the outside of the building, but Joe and I were losing it in the traffic – we took one desperate left turn, following a normal street sign, which ended up being the Bellagio hotel’s own drive which only led to valet parking! Cars screeching past on both sides, crawling at 0.5 mph past endless sparkling McDonalds and obese tourists photographing them … No. After Yosemite, Sequoias, lakes, mountains and Death Valley … we just couldn’t face it a moment longer! A bit of masterful lane swerving by Joe which had me in the brace position with eyes screwed tight, and finally we were on the freeway and getting the hell out. We drove as far as we could manage – it was getting way, way late – and ended up at a blissful refuge, just a normal side of the road motel in a tiny town called Glendale in Nevada, but it felt like Mecca after Babel (if you’ll excuse the mixed religious metaphors!) and we gratefully crashed out.