Going The Distance

We set off from Pahrump at 6pm, having waited out the worst of the heat. But it was still 38 degrees C…

So so hot. The little bike presses on in the face of baking headwind. It’s miserable. Even in darkness, Death Valley (which gets to 200 feet below sea level) remains a pit of heat. The mountains around it mean that it is a basin for the heat, keeping the hot air in. And do they ever. Everything was sweaty, from the soles of my feet to my eyelids.

Arrive late in Lone Pine – somehow Mike manages to keep driving for 5 hours – it’s cooler. Thank God.

We leave Vegas and head for Pahrump, 60 miles outside the city, to get to arguably the most famous of Nevada’s 26 brothels. It’s the only state in which brothels are legal, which would make the Chicken Ranch the most famous (legal) whorehouse in the States.

We had set up an interview with the manager of the Ranch, but when we arrived she had been called away on an emergency and hadn’t had my number to let me know. In her absence, she had forbidden us from filming a tour of the place, and we could only talk to girls willing to be talked to. Our hearts sank.

One girl was prepared to talk to us, and have her voice recorded, but not to appear on camera. Well, that could work. Not much to look at for a documentary, but we could have lots of shots of the outside of the place, etc. We asked her about two things in relation to love – how her job affected her love outside the place (she is married and has been for 8 years), and what kind of love the clients want. In answer to the first question, she said that she was adept at separating the two worlds: work was work - purely physical and all about the money; as for the clients wanting love, in her one year’s experience, no one had ever wanted to pay to spend the night or wanted to ’spoon’ with her. They wanted her purely for her services, not the voids in their hearts which she could fill.

At one point during our interview, a bell jangled and the girl excused herself – she had to go for a Line Up. Everytime a customer comes in, the girls gather in a line for the client to chose which one (or two) they want. I asked her if this was like being back at gym class and being the last one picked for a team, and she said yes – but that you get used to the fact that people come in with an idea of what they want. Girls can work either 12 hours a day, or 24 hours. If it’s the latter, they get up at all hours of the day or night.

We were preparing to leave when another girl entered the bar. Gorgeous and vivacious, once she knew what we were doing, she said she’d be happy to appear on camera – she had a history in porn so her face was already out there, she figured. An articulate and feisty 25 year old called Trinity, she had been at the Chicken Ranch, and other houses all around the state, for 7 years. She was divorced already, with two kids. But she recognised that her timeframe for making money in the game that she was in was limited, so she left her kids with family and came to the Ranch for months at a time.

Girls move in to the Ranch. They are given their own rooms for their stay which is where they entertain their clients. There is a reception area where line ups happen (and we weren’t welcome to see) and the bar area, a lowlit, small room with a pooltable in the middle which takes up most of the space. Small tables with stools around the edge of the room. Above the bar (an old school, mirror-backed bar) there is one girl’s photo, the Sweetspot of the Week. When I asked the girls about the effect of having that photo up (it changes every week), they said that it definitely generated more business.

Business is the core of the place. It felt safe, and all the girls we talked to (about 4 in total, though only one on film) liked working there. The Ranch was fastidious about testing, they all had panic buttons, and they said that all the girls and management got on very well. Meals are provided for the girls – to all in intents and purposes, it’s an all girls’ boarding school with a small twist…

Trinity was great. Outspoken, gorgeous, and very savvy. She said unequivocally that “love doesn’t exist in a place like this. You leave love at the door”. She said that some of her clients did pay to spend the whole night with her, and long connections with individuals (once a month over a period of years) would of course foster attachments – on their part. She only saw this as a way to make money. She recognised that she had a talent and she was good at making money from that talent. I really liked her. She recognises that she’s getting on (saying that this game really ages people – wearing heels perpetually it gets to your back, etc) and thinks this will be her last year at it. She wants to be a mum to her kids. She has plans to set up her own business, and I reckon she’d be great at it. Bright girl, no shit. She has an idea to produce porn, an industry she knows well.

The place wasn’t nearly as seedy as I had thought it would be. The few men who pulled up on the alarmingly bright August afternoon in baking Pahrump (it was about 45 degrees C) did look a little seedy. But not scabby – just a bit sheepish. But then, I suppose you’re never going to walk with your head held high into a whorehouse, no matter who you are.

Enough of this tourist malarkey. Time to get down to business. We set up 4 interviews in a day, with a Cirque du Soleil show in the middle of it. Ambitious.

12pm: Graceland wedding chapel http://www.gracelandchapel.com/ (celeb couple: Jon Bon Jovi and his wife)

Meet with manager, Brandon Reed, and Elvis. We grill them about the kind of people who marry there (65% Americans, last year Brits top of the international pile, but the Germans are just pipping us to the post this year), how many of them there are (around 25 weddings a day, business better with the recession too) what they want (Elvis!), how they want it (fast – 15 minute ceremony, and cheap, about $300), how often Elvis gets his arse pinched by the just-married wives (lots)…

2pm: Little Church of the West http://www.littlechurchlv.com/ (celebs: Cindy Crawford & Richard Gere, Judy Garland, Mickey Rooney, Dudley Moore)

More serious interview with owner. Again, questions about the kind of people who choose to get married there (pretty normal, as it happens, lots of package tours, most organised well in advance), weirdest things he’s seen (not much, though themed marriages are increasingly common), etc.

4.30pm: Rabbi Mel and Dr Micki Hecht www.weddingofficiantlasvegas.com The classier end of Vegas weddings…

Meet Rabbi and Dr Hecht in suburban Vegas. They are pillars of the Vegas community and have been married for 26 years as well as performing hundreds of higher end Vegas wedding ceremonies. They are a great couple, had some wonderful thoughts on love and Vegas. Micki was a good friend of (the real) Elvis.

7.30pm: Cirque du Soleil’s O at the Bellagio

Mike and I were both Cirque du Soleil virgins. And given that there were 6 CdS shows on the Strip, we decided to give it a go. It just happened to fall on one of our busiest days interviewing yet… It’s a feast of world class acrobats, divers, synchronised swimmers. Jaaamazing.

10pm: Teagan Presley, pornstar, Love Boutique

Every 15 year old boy’s fantasy: we met a pornstar. Signing copies of her latest DVD. Ask her and her boyfriend what love is. Apparently it’s something about being comfortable enough with each other to walk in and start doing your make up when the other one is doing a poo. And being comfortable enough with yourself to be able to date a pornstar (”but honey… I only do girls now…”)

Just kidding…

Alanna with make up! I'm female, who knew?

We wander, slack-jawed and neon-dazed, around the madness of Vegas. 5 hours of walking the miles and miles of air-conditioned, gawdy, ghetto fabulous corridors. Hmmmm. Vegas.

At the end of it all, Mr and Mrs Michael Clear go for Date Night. Mrs C puts on her glad rags, does her face, and holds hands tightly with her beloved as they happily stroll to a fancy pants dinner at Tao at the Venetian. Magical. Very nice to spend time with my husband rather than my chauffeur/colleague/director…

Another day of driving. This time along the historic Route 66, so we’re flanked by old school diners and quirky places along the way. Seligman, it turns out, is the inspiration for the Pixar movie, Cars. The author broke down there and ended up staying – setting the film on a town which was suffering as a result of the huge highway which bypassed it.

From there to the Grand Canyon caves (our first tourist activity). Then to Vegas! Via more rain. Really really heavy rain. We have to pull over to a gas stop and unload the entire bike as fast as we can. Fat Americans stand by the doorway, pointing.

Not helping, not even moving out of the way as two sodden Brits lumber in with bags and bags of stuff.

It calms down eventually, so we head on to Vegas. Cross the Hoover Dam in darkness, lit up like a space station. Then we finally hit the bright lights of Vegas and the faded glory of the Sahara Hotel and Casino ($25 a night…)

As we leave the reservation (with some speed – desperately hoping no one would demand our camera), we see a wall of sand on the horizon. Will a resigned despair, we realise that it is making its way towards us, fast. It is, in fact, a sandstorm. We brace ourselves as we near it, finally hitting a wall of wind and sand hard as visibility plunges to about 10m.

The going is slow back to Tuba City, 45 miles away. The topspeed of the bike, face on into the wind, is about 40mph. When we finally make it back, we take refuge in Subway, and suddenly the rain begins. It’s horizontal and violent. Fat, aggressive drops which permeate every part of the bike. Our plan to make it to Vegas by the evening trickles away, and the two of us become ncreasingly fractious.

Storms rage inside and out of the restaurant, as Mike and I launch into the most aggressive of our own fights so far. He is nervous about riding a long distance in these conditions so disappears into his own thoughts, leaving me confused, sodden and livid. As we put on our raingear, we’re not speaking. We set off into the driving rain like a cork being thrown into the wind, rain everywhere, barely able to see for the thick drops on our visors.

Miraculously the storm clears after a miserable half hour. Prompting our own storm to clear. As the sun tentatively peels the clouds apart, we head to the spectacular Grand Canyon for some top of the line tourist activity. And what a place it is. Totally and utterly breath-taking.

Still intent on making it to Vegas (it’s 6pm at this point, and Vegas remains 350 miles away), we head on out. Friends again, thankfully. But only make it another 120 miles or so to Seligman on Route 66 and bunk down for the night with pizza and beer.

Now that we have the consent of a Hopi couple to partipate, the two of us leave Tuba City in the Navajo Nation and set off to a neighbouring reservation about 45 miles away at Hotevilla.

The Hopi are American Indians people who primarily live on the 12,635 km² (2,531.773 sq mi) Hopi Reservation in northeastern Arizona. The Hopi Reservation is entirely surrounded by the much larger Navajo Reservation and has about 7,000 people on it. According to Hopi oral tradition, the Hopi are a gathering of diverse groups representing clans from different areas, now identifying culturally as one group of people with a single language.The Hopi  religion is anti-war. To be Hopi is to strive toward this concept, which nvolves a state of total reverence and respect for all things, to be at peace with these things, and to live in accordance with the instructions of Maasaw, the Creator or Caretaker of Earth (that’s from Wiki, natch) Traditionally, Hopi are organized into matrilineal clans. When a man marries, the children from the relationship are members of his wife’s clan.

The whole weekend is one of festivities to celebrate the harvest. More specifically, it’s the Butterfly Festival. “The Butterfly Maiden is represented as a doll and dancer at the Kachina Nature, Earth and Weather spirit celebrations in August. Her headdress (which all the girls wear) is adored with corn and butterfly symbols to call forth a good harvest because butterflies are associated with the pollination of crops. Kachinas who come to earth bring rain and good harvests and they are invoked in dance and rituals” (from Fabulous Creatures, Mythical Monsters and Animal Power Symbols, by Cassandra Eason)

We entered the reservation and it immediately felt other-worldly: the roads were no longer paved, inside the bike wobbled over soft sand paths. Big cars were parked everywhere, outside every house, alongside the sand tracks. The houses were rundown, children and people were everywhere. We were the only white faces in hundreds of Hopi faces. Stalls selling granita, embroidered rugs, dresses littered the route to the slightly ramshackle central square.

We park beside the main square and hear the loud noise of chanting and the jingle of bells. Promptly we are told to move the bike because the dancers will be coming down the road that we are on, so we shift it and race to get the camera out, eliciting sceptical looks from all around – white faces, Evel Knievel suits and the sidecar. I’m uncomfortable. But there’s little time to feel it as the loud procession works its way towards us.

There are around 200 people in the procession. All in traditional costume, with the Butterfly festival headdress worn by the girls. They move forward, then jump causing the bells around their knees to ring in rhythm, then repeat. The crowds watching are big, people are up on the rooves of the houses, clapping along. We film the dance with the big camera, meaning we don’t really blend in… The dance lasts about 5 more minutes, after which the procession disbands, and a handful of people warn us that filming is strictly not permitted by the Hopi elders, and we are lucky not to have had our camera confiscated and/or destroyed.

We scarper.

We then set off to meet our contact, Debbie, and her husband Carroll. They are in the process of building a nice, and big, house on the outskirts of the reservation. They live and work in Flagstaff, but spend spare time on the reservation. As we start the interview, they talk of the challenges of spanning those two worlds, and the effects it has had on their relationship. We got the strong sense that they were happiest on the reservation, though they have made successful lives beyond it. They met and courted in the usual US way – movie theatres and hanging with friends, but they had a traditional Hopi wedding. Carroll is very involved in the culture on the reservation, teaching the Hopi culture to kids on the reservation, meanwhile Debbie is keen to do the same with the outside world. They have been married for 36 years, and still seem to be going very strong. They laughed as they thought about their grown-up daughter learning about their courtship and marriage. A great couple!

• Set alarm for 5.45am to set up timelapse shot of the sun rising over the bike and the awesome goosenecks. Getting quite pro at this whole filming malarkey now.
• Sleep.
• Heat.
• More awesome shots of the Valley of the Gods. Spectacular. Utah very photogenic. Unlike dusty, unshowered selves.
• Lunch in Mexican Hat. There is ACTUALLY a place called Mexican Hat. (Because of a rock formation). Asked to leave after a while. Ha ha. We do tend to set up camp everytime we stop. Got the contact of a Native American couple who we will see tomorrow in Hotevilla on the Hopi Reservation. Delighted.
• Into Arizona, through Monument Valley, to Tuba City. Camping in carpark of only hotel. All class.
• Meet other Brits, all craving alcohol in this dry town. Clears, natch, have huge box of beers. Brits gravitate to our carpark wilderness like flies to poo. All beers consumed. Much talk of John Lewis, Marmite and other long-forgotten totems of Britannia.

• Spend the morning getting the most awesome shots of the bike with Austin. The man was not afraid to fashion a rudimentary harness from luggage straps and hang off the side of the bike to get some amazing shots.
• Lois and Austin have written a themesong for their journey “Come Ural With Me”, which we performed together. Pop video to follow…
• Loved seeing them. Was such an unexpected treat to cross paths with them both – they are proper round-the-world adventure motorcylists – but this time on a Ural. So many group shots.
• Mike and I feel rough from the sun so hide away for a bulk of the afternoon. Made the hard decision not to go to a Fundamentalist village – both of us feeling too unwell. Head to Gooseneck state park. Pitch tent in the dark.

From pine marten penises to how to avoid a crash, here are some of the things we now know.