Two trees at the end of a trail in this roadless area (149CongRecH5416)

Much to TJ's chagrin, I scheduled a brewery tour (one of those online deals) on the day of an ultramarathon he would've liked to run. But I didn't feel too bad because I figured he would stop caring after the second tour stop. Much to my chagrin, the night before our tour, the company called to cancel because the scheduled driver had a heart attack and ended up in the hospital, and no replacement could be found on such short notice. Obviously, it was too late for TJ to sign up for the race, so to make up for the unfortunate turn of events, we decided to take a marathon road trip, from one type of tree to another.

Fittingly, on our first day, we took the Pines to Palm Highway. When we made a pit stop to check out the Pacific Crest Trail where it crossed California Highway 74, we could see snow on the mountains in the distance (left). By the time we stopped at the highway's Cahuilla Tewanet Overlook (right), my flip-flops were no longer adequate foot protection -- and we hadn't even encountered the lowest temperatures of the weekend.

We arrived at Joshua Tree National Park pretty late in the evening, after all of the central first-come, first-serve sites were taken, so we stayed at Black Rock Canyon Campground, near Yucca Valley. Even though it was on the outskirts of the park, we set up camp near plenty of the eponymous trees, which are said to look like Joshua from the Bible praying to the sky (left). Don't let the clear skies fool you, it dropped to an ungodly low temperature -- below freezing -- in the desert that night. Luckily, the next day, with the sun back out, we were able to not only warm up but also look at the San Andreas Fault from Keys View within in the park (right).

We were hoping to make it to our next type of tree, the sequoia, in the same day. But after one cold night, I was in no hurry to race to the low temperatures of the mountains. In fact, we were running out of daylight by the time we pulled into the more temperate Red Rocks Canyon State Park (left). The park is described as a mini-Grand Canyon; I've never been, but indeed, I was impressed by the interesting rock formations (right), some of which you could even camp in.

 

Once again, our best-laid plans were thwarted when the road we were hoping to take through Sequoia National Forest was closed. Nonetheless, we decided to head as far as we could go -- where there was more snow (left) -- in hopes of seeing some of the tall trees. The forest is named after the 33 groves of giant sequoias within it, but with our path blocked, we settled for the serenity of some simply high pines (right).

Actually, had we known that run-of-the-mill evergreens were all we were going to see, we could've stopped on California Highway 178 near the Audubon Kern River Preserve. In fact, we didn't even need to go all the way east to Joshua Tree in the first place, considering we could see both the yucca and conifer trees in a single vista from the road.

 

But the long-distance, though not fast-paced, weekend trip was still worth it for the discovery of the Kern River (left), a gorgeous series of rapids that runs through the cute fishing town of Kernville down to Wofford Heights, where the water broadens into Lake Isabella (right) for a bit before it heads on Bakersfield.

 

Partial ownership shares or timeshares in the resort (16USC398d)

In case you don't know me personally, I'm more than a little skeptical, so I didn't react well when TJ got sucked into a deal at Hilton Grand Vacations in Las Vegas. We'd get a nice room right on the Strip, at a cut-rate price, plus vouchers for a meal and a future hotel stay. The catch: We had to commit to listening to a two-hour pitch for a timeshare. 

TJ put it on the line as soon as the sales rep started speaking: We are absolutely not the right market for a timeshare, and we are only here for the free stuff. I have to give the guy credit; he was persistent. I even respected him until he fell into desperation moves. Toward the end of the two hours, he looked at me and asked me to share my opinion, implying that TJ doesn't or wouldn't let me do so. I think he was stunned when I responded that I was in absolute agreement with my husband, so I felt no reason to interrupt -- or pay attention, for that matter.

To be honest, if I were a different kind of person and traveler, I might've been convinced by the financial savings. But if you don't like peanut butter, you're not going to buy a lifetime supply, no matter how cheap the jars are. So we didn't buy anything, but we did pay with two hours of our lives. And for this, I believed TJ owed me for going along with this trip, to a city I don't really love. 

Luck was with him in Vegas, though, because I actually enjoyed many of the activities we stumbled into. We ran across Turf from America's Got Talent performing on a street corner. TJ was not awed by his stardom, but he was impressed by his moves. To me, this might be one of my best celebrity sightings. What do you think: Is Turf better than Tom Berenger or Ric Flair or Jackie Mason? 

Another reality-show stud was in town, but we didn't run into him, I'm afraid. Adam Richman was hosting the World Food Championships at Bally's. Because of the, ahem, fine print of our vacation, we didn't see the main competitions, which included burgers and barbeque, but we saw the end of what appeared to be an al fresco and amateur Iron Chef, except four chefs presented their final dishes, with the secret ingredient of salmon, to only two judges.

With our appetites whetted, we used our meal voucher for our own bit of gourmet, at Le Café Ile St. Louis in Paris. The fake French bistro on a fake French cobblestone street under a fake French sky was a little cheesy, but the food was excellent. We started with -- what else? -- escargot, followed by Filet au Poivre for TJ and Boeuf Bourguignon for me, then ended with raspberry-filled mousse and a chocolate-frosted eclair.

Since TJ had paid his debt to me, I let him enjoy some of his favorite Vegas hobbies, like drinking 50-cent Hamm's draft beers while playing video poker at Las Vegas Club on Fremont Street and drinking $2 microbrews while not gambling during happy hour at Ellis Island Brewery.

I even coaxed him into finally playing $3-minimum blackjack at Circus Circus after some $1 video-table practice at Slots A Fun. We managed to spend a respectable amount of time in the game, but still, we walked away as losers. In the end, our savings-account balances were a little bit lower -- but by less than, say, a timeshare in Orlando.

Responsible policies will continue to require fathers to support their children (SHrg110-107)

So I made my dad come to visit me for a month, then ...

I made him eat typical fish (and marlin and octopus) tacos at Mariscos El Mazateno after a quick walk-through of the consulate.

I made him visit the border at Playas de Tijuana and drink beer at a wind-worn patio bar.

I made him walk the Rosarito pier so he'd burn some calories before eating Puerto Nuevo lobster from Restaurante Luis.

I made him try crazy types of ice cream at Tepoznieves and the best pork tortas ever at the Baja California Culinary Fest.

I made him tour the Valle de Guadalupe, including Italian vineyards Villa Montefiori, Catalan winery Vinos Pijoan, Mexican vintnor JC Bravo, and multinational producer L.A. Cetto.

 

I made him drink even more Baja wine at Ochentos Pizza, where we tried four kinds of pizza with some help from a furry friend and candlelight.

I made him drink even more wine in Temecula, including multiple award winners at South Coast Winery, holiday table wine at Wiens Family Cellars, almond champagne at Wilson Creek Winery, Solera-style port at Longshadow Ranch Winery, and cream sherry at Mount Palomar Winery.

I made him sample caramel-, pumpkin-, and berry-apple pie slices with homemade whipped cream, cinnamon ice cream, and cheddar cheese on the side at Julian Pie Company.

I made him look at the desert and dunes surrounding the Salton Sea from Cleveland National Forest.

I made him walk up a steep hill to see the sparkling vista of Torrey Pines State Reserve.

I made him stalk the sea lions at La Jolla Cove and search for harbor seals at the Children's Pool.

I made him get up-close and personal with a cheetah and other animals at San Diego Zoo Safari Park.

I made him stuff himself with an oversized meal from Flinn Springs Inn.

I made him take in the view of San Diego's skyline from the USS Midway, where we found an "Eggert" listed on the "duty board."

 

I made him bask in the sunset from Portwood Pier, just a few blocks from his rented condo in Imperial Beach.

I did not make him drive, although he chose to do so anyway, but I made him consult TJ about the route.

 

I made him tired enough to want to go home.