Lake Havasu/ Vegas Road Trip

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Anyone who knows us—and any of you who actually read our posts instead of just scrolling the photos—knows we love road trips.

One day we got a call from the London Bridge Resort in Lake Havasu City, AZ—a place we still call home and a place I kind of wish we’d never left. We stayed there about four years ago and loved it. Great people, great location, and it’s literally right on the channel next to the actual London Bridge. There was one catch: we had to sit through a 90-minute timeshare presentation. We’re not interested in timeshares at all, but four days and three nights for less than the cost of one off-season night? Hell yes—we’ll sit through your pitch.

Trying to pick dates was the hard part. With our schedules, it felt impossible. Finally, on a Wednesday, I said, “Why don’t we just leave this weekend?” My wife called back, booked Tuesday through Friday, and we planned to roll out at 4 a.m. Sunday morning. I had a Friday doctor appointment and our business had an event on Saturday, so that was the earliest we could go.

I hit bed around 10 p.m., brain going a hundred miles an hour like usual, and finally passed out around 1:30 a.m. Alarm hit at 3. I packed up her SUV—thankfully we travel light—and we were rolling just after 4 a.m. (Getting Jahanel out of bed that early is a miracle by itself.)

I’ve driven to and through Vegas many times, using three different routes. This time Google Maps showed a “faster” way, and since we wanted to make the Olympia, WA to Vegas run in one shot, I trusted it. We bombed down I-5 to Gee Cee’s at exit 57—our favorite truck stop—topped off fuel, grabbed road snacks, and continued south. Through Portland, onto I-84, and off toward Hwy 26 over Mt. Hood.

I’ve ridden that highway before on the bike and it’s a great road, but this time we hit snow and ice for about 30 miles. That destroyed my ETA. I was on track to beat the original arrival by six minutes, and by the time we got out of the mess, I’d lost my six minutes plus another three. But I don’t screw around on snow and ice—especially when we passed a brand-new car folded up in the ditch with paper plates still on it. Oops.

The two-lane highways of central Oregon took us through areas I’d never seen before. It was cold and windy but thankfully uneventful, which is nice in the moment… but boring for storytelling later. We crossed into Nevada, blasted through the desert, stopped only for fuel and snacks, and eventually rolled into Vegas.

Original ETA: 9:30 p.m.
Actual arrival at the Stratosphere: 10:05 p.m.
Not bad considering the snow delay.

Keep in mind I’d been awake since 3 a.m. with maybe 4 total hours of sleep over the previous two nights. I was basically sleep-walking through the lobby… until my wife surprised me with a suite instead of a standard room. Once I saw the place—damn near the size of our house, or at least it felt like it—I woke right up again. We got cleaned up and grabbed our first meal of the day at the café downstairs. Food was good, but the waiter stole the show—funny, friendly, the kind of guy who can dish sarcasm and take it right back.

After eating we played a few games before crashing in the suite after midnight.

We’re not big gamblers. In two days we spent $25 total. My wife won $24, I lost 5, and we practically broke even.

Bad Ass Van

Our first full day in Vegas we ran around town, stopped at Count’s Kustoms to check out the rides, and I joked about applying for a job. Jahanel gave me the look—the silent “You’re an idiot, they’re not hiring you” stare. We cruised around some sketchy back streets (we always seem to do that), which reminded me of the time we drove through Crenshaw and Compton at dusk. If you don’t know those areas, you’ve clearly never read anything about the LA gang scene… but that’s a story for the book someday.

Count’s Gate to the shop

Vegas might be a shithole, but we still love it—Fremont, the Strip, or just aimless cruising.

And we found a restaurant we absolutely fell in love with. Amazing service, unbelievable food. I’ve never had bacon like this. I saved some to put on top of my burger and HOLY HELL—it turned into the best burger I’ve ever eaten, and I eat a lot of burgers. Do I want to reveal the name? Not really. We’re greedy like that. Email me, maybe I’ll tell you. Hint: it’s not on the Strip or Fremont.

We also stopped at a Vegas dispensary. Nevada’s weed laws are insanely strict—apparently the strictest in the country. Everything is heavily tested and regulated, which explains why edibles from Nevada are way more consistent than what we get in Washington. Always fun learning something new on the road.

That night we made it to bed around midnight so we could wake up early and beat the line at the Peppermill. That place is always packed. We checked out of the room, got lucky with two open seats at the counter, and enjoyed the breakfast—food wasn’t as good as our last visit, but the staff’s energy made it worthwhile.

Then it was time for Hav—I mean home—nope, Havasu!

Heading south out of Vegas on Hwy 95 felt incredible—sunshine and warmth instead of Washington’s gloom. Just past the Laughlin turnoff we crossed briefly into California, then hit I-10 east. We detoured north to Oatman, an old mining town I’ve wanted to visit for decades. The drive was great, but Oatman itself was a zoo—tourists acting worse than the wild burros—so we skipped it and kept rolling. Stopped at a cool little shop on the Golden Valley side, then finished the loop and continued to Lake Havasu.

Four years since we last visited, though it doesn’t feel like it. I drove past the house we lived in and the shop I worked at, but this trip was all about decompressing and drying out our Washington-soaked bones. We ate good food (which is rare for me to get excited about), hit every thrift store and pawn shop in town for my wife, and even found a few interesting books for myself. We did our nightly sunset walks along the channel like old times and visited “our park”—everyone else calls it Rotary Park, but I refuse. It’s ours.

We wanted to hike SARA’s Crack, but by the time we remembered, it was 96 degrees. We walked in about a quarter mile just to say we made it there, and promised ourselves next time we’d hit it early.

Two restaurants in Havasu we ALWAYS love: Cha Bones and Juicy’s. Cha Bones usually has an hour wait, so we walk the channel until they call. Great food, great service, loud atmosphere, and we always leave stuffed. The next morning we hit Juicy’s. I’m not a pancake guy—my wife makes them best—but Juicy’s might be the first real competition she’s ever had. My “traditional breakfast” came with three eggs, four strips of bacon, two sausage patties, a slab of ham, hash browns, an English muffin, and two giant pancakes. I couldn’t finish the ham or half a pancake, but I gave it my best shot.

On our last morning we cruised “our park” one more time, fueled up at the Loves on I-10, and headed north. The plan was to run Hwy 93 through Nevada into Idaho and blast home on I-84 and I-5 in one go so we could make an event the next day, but midway through Nevada I canceled it. We decided instead to stay in a place I’d always wanted to stop: Jackpot, Nevada.

I know—it sounds ridiculous. But after watching a biker movie called Roadside Prophets decades ago, I’ve always wanted to stay at the 4 Jacks. As many times as I’ve passed it, we never stopped. The place is old, but that’s part of its charm. It was clean—old carpet, but honestly one of the very few places where I wouldn’t mind sleeping on the floor if I had to. Food was good, the waiter was fantastic, and the history makes the stay worthwhile.

We slept in and hit the road around 8:30. The last stretch home was uneventful—good for driving, boring for stories.

Until next time… keep it between the lines.