1301.1 miles in three days!

Okay NOW it's time to tell you about Oktoberfest #2 which was the first event in a weekend full of events. Well...second event, if you count the alien sighting:


SEE? Aliens!

Did you know that aliens care about child safety seats too??


But back to the human-related events.

This whole trip started with the wigwams and then it somehow ballooned into the wigwams and Oktoberfest in Vegas because OH HEY, WHY NOT? Plus, for bonus WTF we threw in *camping* in Vegas.

Stop and think about that one for a minute.

Camping?

In Vegas?

Yes.

Not Vegas proper, but Red Rock Canyon, which is only a hop, skip and a jump from Las Vegas so one minute "we" were setting up a tent and 15 minutes later we were listening to the Oktoberfest #1 CD and pulling up to our dinner destination for the evening.

So if you're keeping track, that's one night in a tent outside of Vegas and one night in a wigwam in San Bernadino.

VIP all the way, baby.

BUT SERIOUSLY, ELIZABETH? CAMPING?

Yep.

It really wasn't so bad though and DARE I SAY, I'd be willing to do it again?? Maybe not in VEGAS, but at the beach or in the wilderness or something and as long as I have a trusty camping concierge with me to make it all happen.

For example, I was not in charge of any of the camp set up activities:



Or any of the camp break down activities:



I'm sad to say I ended up not using my standing-up-to-pee device (other than the test-run in my bathroom at home) because the bathrooms, while without the running water I was promised, were like the nicest outhouses I've ever used and were a 30 second walk from the tent:

Plus, the moon was really bright and there were people in surrounding camp areas so I felt bashful about busting out my lady-pee'r so I just used the official bathrooms.

Once camp was all set up and our very expensive $10 fee was paid to the BLM I put on my pearls and my fantastic gold jacket and we hit the town for David's traditional Oktoberfest bonanza:


We made friends:

That's James, AKA the sweetest waiter EVER.

This is Fritzie (Joan, I told her about YOUR Fritz!):


Fritzie was there celebrating her first anniversary with her lady, whose name I do not recall:


I tried to teach David about the self portraits:


But he was not particularly cooperative:

I can report that the songs and the festive atmospheres at both Oktoberfest #1 and #2 were the same but Teske's didn't have the same dirty giant-horn-related party games, the beer stein holding contests or the girl's beer chugging contests that the Vegas version offered.

The big let-down of the night:

I pussed out when it came to entering the girl's beer chugging contest.

The problem was that they announced that it would happen in 30 minutes so I stopped drinking my own beer so I'd have room to chug what I thought would be an entire liter of contest beer. BUT THEN it took closer to an hour before they got on with it and this delay sobered me up to the point where I was no longer willing to go get in front of everybody and show them my mad skills.

The salt in the wound: It turned out that the ladies only had to chug HALF liters which is CHILD'S PLAY and I didn't even need to stop drinking in order to accommodate that puny little amount.

GRR.

David and James were very disappointed in me.

The party eventually wound down and the restaurant was closing so we moved on to stop #2, a place David assured me would be really cool and it was really cool except that when he directed me into the Peppermill parking lot and I was like "OMG LET'S GO TO THE FIRESIDE LOUNGE!" He didn't know that there used to be a Peppermill in Cupertino and that I was already well acquainted with the magic:



We made it back to the "hotel" safely and then after a not-so-awesome night's sleep on the ground (turns out, my camping companion snores, which was an exciting bonus that I rectified for the next night by sending him to buy me some ear plugs), we got up, packed up and went on a scenic drive of Red Rock Canyon.

I was like "Please be sure to get less of me in these fat pants and more of the rocks" and this is what I got:


Smart ass.

Take two:


More rocks:




And then we drove to San Bernadino and OMG ARE YOU BORED OF THIS UPDATE YET??

Well let me spice it up for you:


That's right, I'm on a tractor in front of a wigwam.

The interior of the wigwam was pretty standard motel'y and the shower SUCKED but it didn't end up on my life list because I thought it would have 400 thread count sheets and a jacuzzi tub, but it was clean and only half of the TV channels were fuzzy. Besides, after my two hours of sleep on the desert floor the night before, I kind of didn't care. I was READY for a shower (however ineffective) and a real bed (however firm).

It was Halloween night and in my head I had grand plans that we would go tie one on at a local San Bernadino bar or whatever but the reality is that A) I WAS TIRED and B) San Bernadino SUCKS so we mustered up the energy to go out for a crappy dinner and, from what I hear, my ear plugs and I passed out about seventeen seconds after my head hit the pillow.

It's really a shame that San Bernadino is such a HOLE because the Wigwam Motel is great and I'd love to see them kitsch it up and have theme rooms or something but the unfortunate reality is that sure, it's on Route 66, but otherwise it's in a crappy area that I can't imagine anyone going out of their was to visit. Other than us, I guess.

BUT, it's like an OASIS:

Good ol' #117:


When we checked in we were told that #117 was near the garden...and sure...it was...kinda:

Mostly it was just a patch of sorry-looking plants. That's David going on a hunt for the chilis the guy said were back there and invited him to sample.

Goodbye, Wigwam #117!


BUT WAIT! THAT'S NOT ALL!!!

The McDonald's museum is just a hop, skip and a jump from the Wigwams!


I totally remember these hamburger jails and I also remember being TERRIFIED of ever getting in one because WHAT IF I WAS UP THERE AND A KID WAS BLOCKING THE EXIT AND I COULDN'T GET OUT AND MY MOM DIDN'T SAVE ME AND I DIED?!?!?!?!?!?

It appears that only 50% of us shared that concern because that's a 6'Something man you see crammed into that thing.

It wasn't really much of a museum though...it was more like a collection of crap. I'm sure my dad and his museum homies would be able to give the exact definition of "museum" versus "crap," but if the diorama right inside the door is a 4th grader's school project, then I'm going with CRAP:



There were plenty of giant-sized McDonald's characters for the photo opps though. This one in particular wasn't intended to be so suggestive but shoot -- the other pictures of me and the Hamburgler all feature excessive chin (on me).


Grimace! But like a furry mascot-looking version of him:

Yeah, I don't know what that face means.

The man himself:


SEE? OMG CHIN! It's horizontal AND vertical!

But enough of that.

And enough of this EPIC, 1300 mile blog post.

We had a great time, the end, HIGH FIVE!