Not knowing exactly what we were going to do yet, we decided we'd think better on a full stomach, so we found a 5-star diner called Blueberry Hill. Our waitress was great (I think she stopped by our table at least twice), and the food was delicious. We tried calling our buddy Huey who lives in Vegas to see if we could crash at his place, but he didn't feel the need to pick up. Or call us back the next day, for that matter. He did come through at the end of our trip though, so he made up for it in spades. But with no place to go and Mark's gear somewhere in the continental United States (we hoped), we decided to drive 15 miles outside of Vegas and find a place to camp for the night.