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An unassuming desert scene?

By some reckonings. Not mine.

Boulder City's Mountain Monogram

Arrival: The traditional pondering of why this part of the pool at the Excalibur is shaped like the blade in The Pit and the Pendulum.

Perhaps it more improbably depicts a mycological delight.

The even more traditional ritual of the Big Shot (which, for reasons unfathomed, I can remember only by the name Blast Off).

45 m.p.h. on the way up; milliseconds of glorious weightlessness at the top.

For maximum adrenaline overload, we rode four times in a row, no waiting.

That was immediately after riding the rollercoaster at New York, New York a bunch of times in a row.

So, adrenalin. Yeah.

Feets, don't flail me now


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