Later this week, Catherine and I are heading to Las Vegas for Mel's 21st birthday. I'm really looking forward to it. Vegas is a strange place. You come face-to-face with a kind of decadence that boggles the mind. The adult playground. So alluring, and yet, in many ways, so completely vile. In anticipation, I thought I'd tell story about my first trip to Vegas. So here goes: Part One - Storm Brewing.

My first trip to Las Vegas began with a bowl of Sugar Smacks. I've found many great adventures begin with a good bowl of cereal, and this one was no different. But it almost got off to a very different start. One without cereal. One full of doubt. But wait. I should back up a little. Cereal is only part of the story.

I was at the Grand Canyon, and I was mid-way through my post-college coast-to-coast solo road trip, which had started in Washington DC. The ultimate destination of the trip was the Grand Canyon. I yearned to see it. I figured it would certainly reveal to me certain truths. Truths about the earth. About the world. About myself. Yes, it's a horrible clich￩, but I intended there to be an element of self-discovery in the whole thing. I figured spending a little over a month on the road camping in the back of my pick-up truck would bring me that much closer to enlightenment, in a John Steinbeck sort of way. For the most part, it worked, I think. I'm not sure I ever 'found myself' in the pure Buddhist sense, but I did manage to find what can only be described as a certain feeling, a sort of mixture of fear, curiosity, and excitement. Whenever I get lost these days I try to remember that feeling and it helps to ground me.

So I had been camping at the Grand Canyon for the previous three days. I had explored the area, had hiked down into the Canyon and back up. Things were good. For a short period of time, I had no decisions to make about my next move. I just simply had to exist. I had reached my destination and, for a little while, I could just sit back and enjoy it. On the fourth day, during my morning excursion to watch the sunrise, I saw an ominous gathering of clouds out over the canyon. From that strange perspective, the storm was like no other I had ever seen and the whole thing actually made me a bit panic-stricken. I had to fight back an instinctive urge to flee. You could see lightning and dark swirls of clouds. What was strange, though, was that the whole thing appeared to be right at eye-level. And the swirling chaos seemed like it could land anywhere at anytime. I had been wondering if it might be time to make the move on to my next destination, which was Vegas. But I was full of doubt. If I left, I would surely miss the canyon. It would be a harsh change of scenery, and a part of me regretted giving up the quiet tranquility of the canyon for the loud din of Vegas. But Vegas seemed appealing in its own way, and I had to leave the canyon sometime. This was not reality. Besides, I had family in Vegas, and I was promised a warm shower when I got there, something I hadn't had in a while. What should I do? Like the imminent storm, my mind was filled with indecision.

I figured I'd decide over breakfast. I went back to my campsite and quickly realized I had little in the way of food. This was not good. I felt a hunger coming on and I had run out of cereal. I was also out of milk, and the OJ was running low. I wasn't sure I could stomach another granola bar, but it looked like that's where things were heading. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe it was time to leave.

Just then, I heard footsteps from behind me. I turned and saw a guy approaching with short spiky hair, faded jeans, and a bluish sweater. "You look like you're heading to Las Vegas." He spoke with an accent which I guessed to be German.

"Well . . . actually, I was thinking about it . . . " How strange was this? Who was this guy?

"Would you like some Smacks?"

"What?" I was confused and was trying to figure out how he had guessed I was heading towards Vegas.

"Smacks."

The offer was made in such a genuine, nice tone. Indeed, it seemed to be a gesture of friendship, and I wanted to take him up on it, but I had no idea what he was talking about. Maybe it was some kind of German custom, smacks. A sort of handshake maybe? I didn't want to seem rude, so I pretended to be thinking really hard about the offer. "Oh, well . . . I guess . . . man, smacks . . . sure! . . . I mean . . . "

He reached into his backpack. I figured 'smacks' was either going to be some benign token of friendship or he was going to shoot me. He took out a rolled up white paper bag of what appeared to be cereal and held it out to me.

"Smacks," he repeated.

Oh! Sugar Smacks! The clouds parted in my mind as I realized no granola bar would have to be consumed in my immediate future.

"Sugar Smacks!" I said. "Right on. I don't have any milk, though."

He reached into his backpack again and pulled out a quarter-gallon container of milk. I briefly wondered how long the milk had been in his backpack, then I realized I didn't care. God had sent me a saint baring gifts of cereal. I was not going to be picky. If this wasn't a sign, I don't know what was. Suddenly things seemed very clear.

"I'll get us some bowls!" I said.

We sat at the concrete table near my campsite and ate Sugar Smacks and listened to the thunder approaching. The guy's name was Alex and he was from Heidelberg. He was unusually direct and honest, which I liked. I immediately felt comfortable with him. He definitely seemed to be on the up-and-up. We talked a little bit about ourselves. We were both on solo trips. I'm not sure if the word had been invented yet in 1996, but I'd say now that his version of the 'solo trek' was a touch more 'Xtreme' than mine. While I had the comfort of a pickup truck equipped with an aluminum camper shell, Alex had nothing more than a backpack, a sleeping bag, and a walking stick. Also, I had come from DC, a mere 2,300 miles away. Alex had flown from Germany to Houston and had hitched his way from there. He was now trying to get to Vegas, where he would pick up his return plane tickets and head home.

As we talked, the thunder and lightning was getting closer. There was a strange electric energy in the air. And then I realized: Today was definitely the day to move on. The storms, the cereal. The signs couldn't be ignored. And it would be nice to have some company on the drive.

"Alex, I've made up my mind. Vegas it is."

He was happy with my decision. He helped me pack up the rest of my stuff and we were off.

On our way out of the park, we stopped for one final view of the canyon. The storm was just touching the south rim and it was beginning to hail.

We got in my truck and drove south toward I-40 with the storm at our backs.

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