Kyle and I spent the first day apart–as usual—and we met up for dinner that night, whatever the night was. After spending a few hours in a casino, you lose all track of time. After dinner we walk up The Strip of Vegas, but we were both consumed by the fact we were actually in Vegas. Neither of us were gamblers, nor were we interested in taking advantage of the cheap cheese-ball shows. Instead, we looked at the worst humanity has to offer. Feeling beaten, we both retreated back into our cockroach-infested motel where, the next day, we tried again to experience Vegas. It just wasn’t for us.
Since we were so close, Kyle and I both decided we had to see the Grand Canyon. We wren’t giving up on Route 66, but this was a side trip that we had to do. After, we headed back to Flagstaff, Arizona, to pick up 66. We pulled off in Kingman, Arizona, to grab some dinner at Denny’s, not wanting to spend any more time looking around for a place that already seemed to have nothing but chain restaurants. It was here, under the high ceilings of Denny’s, peopled by truck drivers and motorists, where we did head off The Mother Road to see what the big deal was about Vegas.