It's 10:30 p.m. and Penny and I have just dragged ourselves back into Room 5416 at the Riviera. We have just survived what can best be called the Boyatt Death March down the Strip in Las Vegas. It began innocently enough with an invitation by Ed Boyatt and his wife, Teri, to enjoy some sights and interesting facts courtesy of Dr. Boyatt, who is quite an aficionado of the architecture and history of the Strip.
We began the experience with a light supper at the Panda Express at the Fashion Mall across the street from the Venetian. It could have been our last meal! The March ensued beginning with the Venetian, followed by the Palazzo, Treasure Island, Bellagio, Caesar's Palace, after that it becomes a blur. And then we had to return.
The sad thing is that we were in the company of Richard and Anita Molsted, Superintendents of the Nevada-Utah Conference, Ed and Teri Boyatt, retired and near retired educators, and Martha Havens. Penny and I were the youngsters of the group. You would have thought Anita, Ed, Teri, and Dick, were Triathletes (Martha is another story, altogether). They were keeping an Olympic pace while winding themselves through every conceivable sight and sound, nook and cranny of the shopping malls of the Strip. We went down stairwells, up escalators, through paths, across exhibits, under bridges, and I believe there may have been a couple of moats. We dodged cars, and unwarranted advances by over-zealous promoters of vice. Three and a half hours later we returned, emaciated and dehydrated to our hotel room. The memories of the Spartan meal we shared was a faint memory. We were thankful for the remnants of energy we drew from to find our room. Penny is not in a good place right now, but she was quite a trooper.
The Conference ends tomorrow. Then it's back home to the Valley of the Sun-- my new home in the desert of Arizona. Good night, I got to jug a gallon of water.
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