I’m not saying you should go to Vegas during a pandemic … but I’m not saying you shouldn’t. Across the country, people are tentatively experimenting with safe travel options, finding new ways to enjoy the things they’ve always loved. Road trips are on the rise, camping is king and our national parks are seeing unprecedented attendance. Traveling with caution takes extra work and can feel a bit exhausting, but it is possible.
Counting myself among the road warriors and outdoor enthusiasts seeking a change of scenery, I recently traveled to Utah to run a half marathon. The race was in the actual middle of nowhere. Really. Head 160 miles to nowhere, turn left. It took place outdoors in the desert, limited attendance and staggered start times all night, starting at sunset. Safe, distanced, fresh air. Getting there however, felt like the heavier undertaking. After hours of searching, I’d grabbed my safest option, limited-stop flights into a small airport in southern Utah. And then the email from United popped up two days before departure. “We’re sorry to inform you that your flight has been canceled.” Not postponed or rerouted, just gone. OK, time to regroup, dust off the credit card and rebook.
It never would have occurred to me to route through Vegas, but after months of training, at the 11th hour, it was my sole option. I don’t love Vegas, but under normal circumstances, I’ve always considered it a good guilty tourism pleasure. I decided to make the best of things and try to appreciate this odd little desert glitz patch. I skirted the Strip in favor of the upmarket hotel (Wynn for the win!) I’d chosen based on their safety standards and cleaning protocols. I felt safe there, in my bubble of overpriced drinks, constant sanitizing and resplendent vegan menus. (Good god, I’ve aged tremendously since my last Sin City trip.)
And yet, while Bright Light City doesn’t set my soul on fire, it does beg for a wander. The Strip, littered with masks and crowded with tourists testing their decibel levels quickly met my low
expectations. (Seriously, I’m so very old.) In search of healthier options, I happily discovered that Vegas offers a masterclass in safe entertainment options.
The Bellagio Fountains, updated to bop to Lady Gaga, still offer impressively iconic, and free, outdoor entertainment. To get totally off-Strip though, The Wynn’s Lake of Dreams is a secluded spot cleverly ensconced in a full forest cultivated between the hotel and the street. The shallow lake contains 4,000 lights and is backed by a 40-foot waterfall. Projections, music and holographics transform the space every 30 minutes. If you’ve ever wanted to drop acid and land, for five minutes, in an upbeat sci-fi film, this is your spot. The show is free, but I kept my ringside table by buying enough cocktails to stay for five of the twice-hourly shows. A little farther off-Strip, The Neon Museum provides an engaging walk through time, all in the fresh night air. Founded in 1996, the museum is a nonprofit dedicated to preserving the city’s history through its famed signs. The “boneyard” plants visitors up close and personal with these dilapidated giants, but the real treat is their nightly show. For $25, or the price of one cocktail at the Wynn, starry-eyed Rat Pack wannabes are treated to a nearly 30-minute show that brings the signs back to life. Bulbs flash to a soundtrack of Liberace and Frank while old footage of this once desert spring plays in the wings. It’s so well-produced that it even inspired a little misty nostalgia in me, someone with no ties to the city beyond the very sporadic visit.
To up the isolation quotient, head further still off-Strip. Eight miles from the action, Ugo Rondinone’s rainbow bonanza of a sculpture, “Seven Magic Mountains” rises above the brown, dusty earth. The 35-foot-high totems are the artist’s take on the gray area between nature and artifice. The work itself also embodies the concept by using real stones, transformed by neon paint. As the largest land work created in the States in 40 years, it’s an impressive sight. It’s also, admittedly, very Instagram-friendly.
Whether a block off the Strip or several miles, Vegas is proving that there are still sound options for urban travelers. If our Western, wild-child, yard glass-toting sorority sister city can manage to provide safe entertainment options, there’s hope for the rest of the country. It now just requires a bit more digging and planning. Of course, if Vegas isn’t worth the effort, there’s also a lovely isolated spot in the desert. Head east, 160 miles, turn left.
