The Bridges of U.S. 93

There are three high (and sorta scary) bridges between Tucson and Las Vegas, all on U.S. Highway 93. Two lie between Wickenburg and Kingman, Arizona: one over the deep gorge of the dry Santa Maria River, and, a few miles away, one spanning the deep canyon carved by Burro Creek. The third connects Arizona and Nevada, arching high over the Colorado River and Black Canyon adjacent to Hoover Dam: the Mike O’Callaghan–Pat Tillman Memorial Bridge. I’m happy to report all three are undamaged and open to traffic, in no small part due to the lack of huge container ships in the American Southwest.

Thanks to integrity of these bridges, we made our way to Las Vegas, then, five days later, safely home. U.S. 93 was a two-lane highway when we moved to Arizona in 1998. It’s now mostly four-lane, but there’s a ton of heavy truck traffic and the pavement, even on the newer sections, is awfully chewed up. Then there’s our age — we’re pretty chewed up, too. Eight-hour days behind the wheel, once a breeze, are now exhausting. While scenic as ever, the drive isn’t the fun experience it used to be. I for one am ready to consider Southwest for future visits.

Per my previous post, we left our old dachshund, Mister B, at home with our daughter Polly. The younger two, Lulu & Fritzi, rode with us to a highway junction 80 miles north of Tucson, where our friend Millie met us and spirited them away for a long weekend at her ranchette southeast of Phoenix. They know Millie and have stayed with her before, so we weren’t worried about them. As for Mister B, as sedentary as he’s become, we figured it was highly unlikely he (unlike his younger housemates) would make trouble for Polly.

And so it was. Lulu & Fritzi had a great time with Millie and the dachshunds and chickens and cows and horses, but were ready to jump in the car with us when we dropped by on our way back. Mister B and Polly came out to the driveway to welcome us home, and all three dogs zipped around underfoot as we unloaded our luggage.

Mister B has gotten quite grey. It’s been one of those gradual changes, the kind you don’t notice until you do, and then it hits you right between the eyes. Which was the case yesterday, when he came out to the driveway to greet us on our return. When we adopted him, he was nine with a little grey on his muzzle. He’s fifteen now and my goodness, it’s spread. Here’s the then & now (with Lulu & Fritzi in the second photo):

Golly. And to think in dog years Mister B and I (and Donna) are the same age.

The whole point of our Las Vegas visit was to see our son Gregory, daughter-in-law Beth, and grandchildren Quentin and Taylor. And to see Taylor’s engagement ring and to congratulate her and her fiancé Jordan (middle, second photo). They’re going to marry in October 2025. We had a great visit. Some photos (hover over the images for captions):

Donna and I stayed in resort hotel at Lake Las Vegas, this time the Hilton (during our last visit in December 2022 it was the Marriott). Donna thought the Hilton was tired and run down. During my road warrior years as a defense contractor, never mind the innumerable TDYs of my Air Force career, I must have stayed in some real dumps, because I thought it was pretty grand. Here’s the view from our balcony:

Like I said, a nice, happy visit. But, as always, it’s nice to be home again. Thanks to those three bridges!

p.s. I forgot something. Aren’t you glad I remembered? Here are the three watches I brought along for the trip. Wore ’em all, too: