Friday 13 June – Unlucky for some (.. on a visit to the Hoover Dam)

We book to see an artist called Frankie Moreno in a Rock & Roll show at our hotel, the Stratosphere, this evening, as we think that this will be a fitting end to our visit to Las Vegas; tomorrow we drive back to Barstow, from where we'll catch the overnight train to Flagstaff.

After breakfast we journey by hire car to see the Hoover Dam, about 35 miles away. It's once again nearly 40ºC; like climbing into an oven each time you leave an air-conditioned building or car.

The dam straddles the Colorado River, which divides the states of Nevada and Arizona. We approach from the Nevada side, drive across the top of the dam, and park on the Arizona side. We take our backpack, but then see a sign which indicates that only small items can go through security, so Reg walks back to the car with the backpack. We get most of the way across the bridge, when Reg realises that he's left his tablet in the car, and in this heat, it might not survive, so he walks back across the dam in the searing heat to retrieve his tablet, while I walk on across the dam to find some shade.

It's only when I need them that I realise that my variofocals are in the backpack which Reg took back to the car the first time (I'm wearing my optical sunglasses). However, we're not going back to the car again; I can manage without them.

When Reg catches up with me, our first stop is the café – we need our coffee and green tea! The café is really crowded with little seating space, and we ask 2 ladies, who we learn are from near Dallas, Texas, if they would like share our table. They are on a coach tour to the Hoover Dam and are also staying at Las Vegas.

“But we don't gamble,” says the first lady, probably in her 40's. “I had my fingers burnt playing Blackjack once, never again.”

“Why do you come to Las Vegas?” I ask.

“She loves shopping,” ventures the other lady.

“And she loves dancing the night away,” says her friend (though the pair had only just met each other during this week).

So there you have it; people come to Las Vegas for all sorts of reasons.

We book a tour of the “plant room” of the Hoover Dam, where you can see how everything works, and learn something of the history of the dam. A few interesting facts:

• Building of the dam commenced in 1931, and finished in 1935, 2 years ahead of schedule.
• At the time, it was the largest engineering project ever undertaken by the government of the USA. It was too big a project for a single company; six companies joined together to build the dam – they were actually named “Six Companies inc”
• At the time of it's construction, it was the largest dam in the world, at 726 feet high. It's still one of the largest dams in the West. (The highest dam in the world now is the Jinping-1dam in China, at 1,001 feet high).
• The dam straddles the Colorado River, creating at the other side Lake Mead, the largest reservoir in America. This reservoir provides much of the water for the states in this area, which, before the building of the dam, were subject to serious droughts and flooding. The reservoir provides all of the water for Las Vegas.
• The dam was built during the years of the “Great Depression”, and provided work for 21,000 men.
• At least 96 men lost their lives during the building of the dam.
• It was originally known as the Boulder Dam, but was renamed the Hoover dam in 1947, in honour of Herbert Hoover, the US secretary of commerce, who pushed for its construction to go ahead.
• It was the building of the Hoover dam which turned Las Vegas from a small town into a bustling city. The USA “Rough Guide” tells us that the men who built the dam “flocked to Las Vegas to bet away their pay packets.”
• The base of the dam is 660 feet thick – the length of 2 football fields.
• It took 4½ million cubic yards of concrete to build it – enough concrete to build a 4 foot wide pavement around the earth at the equator.
• The dam had a mascot, a dog that simply turned up on the site one day. A black labrador mix, he was a favourite with the workers, many of whom were far from home. He was at the site every day during the construction of the dam, and for many years afterwards, until one day he was killed in an industrial accident. He is buried at the dam, and his grave reads: "On February 21, 1941, the life of this devoted animal came to an end when a truck under which he was sleeping rolled over him. The grave below was completed by workers later that same day."

We are told on our visit that the dam itself should last for 2,000 years; but what is worrying now is that there has been a 14 year drought in this area, one of the most severe droughts in more than 1,200 years. The Colorado River is fed from snow coming off the mountains in Spring and Summer. With rising global temperatures, the amount of snow coming off the mountains has decreased, causing huge reductions in the water levels in Lake Mead; the level of the reservoir is dropping by 1 ft each week.

Reg kindly offers to brave the heat and walk across the dam to fetch the car, while I wait in the shade. We spotted a launderette on our way to the Hoover dam, about 20 minutes away from the dam; we've brought our washing with us, as we need to do it before moving on to Flagstaff tomorrow. As we arrive at the launderette, I look in the pouch on the front of the backpack, where I keep my variofocals in their case (when wearing my optical sunglasses). My spectacles are missing! Panic sets in, and I remember that Reg took the backpack back to the car earlier, when we realised it might be too big to get through security. We search the boot, where Reg left the backpack – no glasses.

“You must have dropped them out of the backpack on the way back to the car!” I accuse, aiming straight at the jugular. (There's no way it could have been my fault, is there?!)

“That's right, blame me, I get blamed for everything,” retorts poor Reg. Then he takes charge of the situation. “You go ahead and do the washing,” he says placidly. “I'll go back and see if I can find them, and enquire at the information place.”

This is what we do, and as time goes on I feel really guilty for my attitude to my lovely husband. As the washing is going around, a thought hits me; I bet the specs are on the floor or on the back seat of the car, because I suddenly remember that I lobbed the backpack over onto the back seat as we were driving to the dam. I can't contact Reg, as his mobile doesn't seem to work over here. I wash and dry all the laundry and after what seems forever he finally returns. I smile at him shamefacedly through the launderette window, and take the clean washing out to the car.

“Any luck?” I ask. “I wondered what had happened to you. I'm sorry I was horrible.”

“No, but I reported the loss to security, and they called the police for me, and a policeman came, and I've got a reference number for the insurance.”

“Did you look under the back seat of the car? I remembered afterwards that I chucked the backpack onto the back seat as we were driving to the dam.”

“Yes, I did have a look,” says Reg.

I open the back door of the car and look around under the front seats. It's hard to see, as the carpets are black, but I have a feel around, and my hand touches something solid.

“They're here!” I shout. I'm so relieved. I realise that this whole episode is completely my fault. I also realise that the pouch in front of the backpack is not a very safe place to keep something as important as spectacles; and that next time we come away I need to bring my old variofocals with me, just in case.

“I'm sorry I accused you of losing them,” I say, trying to make up for my attitude. Reg is really brilliant, considering he went to all that trouble, and it was all my fault.

As we are driving back to Las Vegas, on the freeway, the car suddenly doesn't feel right, and a warning light comes on. Reg comes off at the next exit. A flat tyre! Reg sets to and changes the tyre. Luckily, though still really hot, the optimum heat of the day has passed.

We have to drive at 50mph with the new wheel, as it's only a temporary one; we're glad to see our hotel, the Stratosphere, stretching up into the Las Vegas skyline. Reg says he'll have to find a Hertz in Las Vegas, and take the car there in the morning. We can't drive all the way to Barstow tomorrow in this car.

“Well, it is Friday 13^th,” says Reg. Yes, but the tyre didn't blow, we didn't have an accident, and we found my glasses.

While we enjoy a delicious Italian meal in our hotel, before we go on to see the show, a siren repeatedly sounds, and a voice over the speaker tells us that there's an emergency in the hotel, and we must all leave the hotel by the stairs:

“Do not use the elevators!” booms the voice.

Our waiter comes to tell us to ignore the warning. “If it's a real emergency, someone will come and tell us,” he says. “This happens all the time. Someone's messing about and has set off the fire alarm.”

Feeling a little dubious about remaining at our table, we finish our romantic meal with sirens blaring – but they do eventually stop.

We really enjoy the Frankie Moreno “rock and roll” show; at least we've ended Friday 13^th, and our stay in Las Vegas, on a high note.