Das Bunker is one of those ground-zero scenes, the kind of club that everyone has heard of. It’s been a fixture of the LA scene for over a decade, in fact, hosting bands like VNV Nation, Combichrist and Covenant, who played just a week before we arrived.  So, were we intimidated? A little. Excited mostly, though, since we’ve heard about the place and hoped that it would live up to its hype.

Did it?

Yeah, it did, well enough.

The club resides in a sizeable building (the Catch One, on Pico Boulevard), and you enter and go immediately through a metal detector and then straight upstairs. The door people are friendly, and the floor is glossy black. To your left is a monster-sized dance floor, with a low-ish ceiling, numerous small, well-padded alcoves and two stages. Two of the alcoves have mini-stages and stripper poles, and the lighting is strongly colored in the center with very, very dark corners. Right of the entry stairs, you’ve got a large, open bar area.  Das Bunker was far from empty, but its open spaces are large enough that you never feel claustrophobic.

Downstairs are the “Retro Room,” “Noise Room” and smoking patio. The “Retro Room” is where we spent most of the night, and its dance floor (about a third the size of the one upstairs and still bigger than many) is crammed in next to a bar with seating areas on the landing up above and off to the side. A brace of PCs along the wall in the sitting area means you can play solitaire, if you really want to take the antisocial thing a bit too far. In the Retro Room, we heard “Decomposed,” “Godlike,” “Soylent Green,” “Deutschmaschine” (twice), “Corporate Slave,” “So What,” “Another World” and “O Fortuna.” The Retro Room also has a projection unit on the wall that shows movies–and sometimes displays the song that’s being spun. Genius! On the upstairs dance floor, the music trended more toward newer fare, like “Stage 2″ by X-Rx.

Head back through the maze of little hallways from the Retro Room and you’ll find a mist-filled “Noise Room” which is full of powernoise and old war movies projected on the wall.

Turn the other way, and you’ll find the smoking patio, which is crowded and, well, a smoking patio. But! There’s also a hot dog cart on the smoking patio. So it’s actually a smoking and hot dog patio. Once again, genius!

The crowd at Das Bunker is friendly, too. Whether this says something about the club itself, or just that people from LA are always conscious that they’re networking when it comes to meeting people they don’t know remains to be decided, but it made for some pleasant talking to people. People-watching at Das Bunker is much like a gothic subculture roll call. Lexie turned out to be one of only two steamygoths, and Emmy seemed to be the only perkygoth in residence–Das Bunker is very monochromatic black, so my bright red was not Of The Normal but did not appear to hurt my fitting in either. There were a few cybers, a lot of fetishgear and rivethead types, a bunch of ’80s-style glamgoths and classic old-school goths, and even a smattering of Japanese-style gothkids. There didn’t seem to be any lolis, though; it turns out we visited Das Bunker on a night when LA’s lolitas were off at another special event.  Unlike some places that attract a wide range of the scene’s sub-fashions, there wasn’t any snobbery between groups that we noticed.  It’s a good place.

Das Bunker hosts many concerts as well; check out the website for a schedule and directions.

From Las Vegas, we made a week-long field trip to Los Angeles, the better to drive some new cars and meet some models for photo shoots.  We found a secret place to hide the Incorrigible in Long Beach for a week of dry-camping, and set about exploring the madness that is L.A.  

Okay, maybe it's not that secret. We got permission from one of my press car suppliers to take up space in their lot for a week. ALWAYS ask permission before dry-camping!

“Madness” is the right word, too.  This massive megalopolis is made even more massive by the traffic, which you’ve probably heard of but cannot fully comprehend until you’ve experienced it.  Being on a six-lane freeway is an intimidating thing:  being on a six-lane freeway that’s at a dead stop in both directions because of sheer congestion is downright horrifying.  This is the first time I’ve been to a large city where the carpool lane makes a significant difference in the speed of travel; it’s frequently the only one moving.  I love cars, but there are far, far too many of them in Los Angeles.  The sky is a sickly yellow-brown, and it’s easy to see why California’s so concerned about automotive emissions.

It’s also not hard to see why so many people have crammed themselves into this relatively small area.  The weather is gorgeous, the scenery (when not obscured by urban sprawl) is gorgeous, and of course there’s the Pacific Ocean right next door.  While not our idea of paradise, it seems like a decent enough place to live.  Except for the traffic.  And the smog.  And the high cost of living.

Lexie and I did some of the usual tourist things.  We went over to Hollywood to check out the Walk of Fame, and stepped on some of our favorite luminaries.  We cruised past Graumann’s Chinese Theater and spotted the numerous character actors posing for photos–both Spidermen, a Stormtrooper, Gene Simmons, Captain America, Batman, a creepily tall Yoda and a raunchy SpongeBob all made appearances.  We went to the movies, because the movie theaters are much cooler in the LA area.  (In case you were curious, we saw Where the Wild Things Are, and the matinee was crazy expensive but worth it)  We even visited the Frederick’s of Hollywood anchor store, because, well, it’s there.  We had amazing shakes and burgers at slick little place in Irvine called Ruby’s Diner.

Having done that, we spent some time at Venice Beach as well.  We had a perfectly Gothic day at the beach, thanks to the heavy mist and fog that obscured the sky the entire time we were there, and cut visibility drastically. That was okay, though; the crowds were smaller than usual.  I was happy to see that Small World Books is still there.  I visited the place almost 20 years ago. Back then it was a crusty little used bookstore; nowadays it’s a decent independent bookshop.

The ocean was riled up, but the breakers were all but invisible in the soft, silvery light and the wow-this-place-is-real kookiness of Venice Beach was muted.  This didn’t stop us from seeing real-live surfer dudes, crustypunks and aged hippies milling through the crowd, of course.  Also noted were a surprising number of horrifyingly derelict RVs (most dating to the late 1970s and early 1980s, many with missing windows and gaping holes in the fiberglass) that seem to be the dwellings of full-time surfers and beach bums.  The approach to Venice Beach was all but lined with them, and there were half a dozen in the public parking lot, awaiting their owners’ return from the surf.  If they were out there, we couldn’t see them, but we played on the beach for an hour or two anyway.

The beach is filled with seagulls, pigeons, and birds that look suspiciously like the offspring of seagulls and pigeons. Is that possible?

It’s all designed to seduce you into letting them suck your money out of your wallet, of course, so unless you’re a fan of $16 cheese fries, resist the temptation.  Even the fast food costs more down here.  The Strip is good for walking and pretending that you’ve stepped into a city designed by faeries.  Insane faeries:  don’t eat or drink anything Las Vegas offers you, or you may never be allowed to leave.

Off the Strip, the next obvious stop is all the way up Las Vegas Boulevard, past the bail bonds offices and numerous wedding chapels, to Fremont Street and the “old strip.”  “Old” Las Vegas has been pretty modern for some time now, and these days it’s covered for five blocks by an elaborately engineered canopy with over 12 million LED lights, Fremont Street–now known as the “Fremont Street Experience”–is better for people-watching than the Strip, and somewhat less crowded, though no less insane.  There are two outdoor sound stages, and the bands that turn up there range from decent off-the-wall cover bands to surprising original artists.  The Fremont Street Experience is also the place to go to see the Las Vegas Neon Museum (a collection of classic Las Vegas signs), a palm reader in a gypsy wagon, or to get your picture taken with Elvis.  Las Vegas is a psychotic place, and you’d do well not to forget that.

The drivers are psychotic, too.  Or, more to the point, they’re not paying attention. Traffic backups on I-15 are common, and driving the Strip means crawling through traffic at just about any time of the day.  The best way to see the crazy parts of Vegas is to park at one of the casinos and walk.

There are less crazy corners of the city.  We found the Artisan Hotel, on Sahara Avenue, whose laid-back atmosphere and elegant décor should push the right buttons for anyone into the steampunk aesthetic.  The Artisan is a small (64-room) non-gaming hotel, so it’s a great place to meet friends in quiet, and a welcome escape from the crazy that makes up the rest of the city.  The walls and ceiling of the lobby are covered with framed artwork, there’s free wi-fi,  and the cozy Artisan Lounge and Mona Lisa Italian restaurant are equally inviting.

Of course, you can find some pretty cool things in the desert.  Lexie turned up the Nelson ghost town and mine, so we wandered out to take a look (it was, as you can see from the photo, the AEV’s last adventure with us).  About twenty-five miles southwest of Las Vegas, Nelson was home to one of the first major gold rushes in Nevada, and the notoriously lawless town was home to many Civil War deserters.  The gold mines were active from 1858 until about 1945.  These days, there are a few of the original buildings left, as well as an antique soda shop that’s happy to let you wander the grounds.  We declined a tour of the privately-held gold mine for the moment, but we did wander around and look at the numerous old cars dotting the area because, well, that’s what we do.

For natural beauty, head about seventeen miles west of the Strip to the Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area.  Whether you stop to hike and climb the scarlet rocks (formed by oxidization of an exposed ancient sea bed–the rocks are rusting!) or just take the winding thirteen-mile scenic drive, it’s a worthwhile diversion.  Lexie shot a cool series with a local model out on the rocks.  She also shot one of me, sleeping in the sun.  *blush*

If you’re looking for history that’s somewhat finer than the geologic scale, there’s the unlikely but cool Clark County Heritage Museum.  Located in Henderson, just outside of downtown, this unassuming (and inexpensive, with $1.50 admission) museum features a reconstructed suburban “main street” featuring houses from various eras of Las Vegas’ history.  An old West ghost town and train exhibits are also a part of it, but we had the most fun exploring the well-outfitted historic houses, RV trailers and print shop.

Even the Studebaker parked under the carport comes from the proper era.  Inside the museum itself, there are hands-on displays illustrating the history of the area from colonial times to the present, and some interesting exhibits about the rise of Las Vegas.  Good stuff.

We found this old headline funny--they mean "vegan" as in "Las Vegan."

As soon as you enter downtown, with its strip of antique stores and coffee shops lining Main and St. Joseph streets, you’ll see the “City of Presidents” exhibit, or at least some of it.  Life-size bronze statues of United States Presidents stand on every street corner.  This series of privately-funded sculptures adds four Presidents every year, two recent and two historical, with the final installation planned for next summer.  Created by local artists, the bronze Presidents present interesting photo opportunities, to say the least.

Not as obvious is Art Alley.  Located in the alley between Main and St. Joseph and bordered by Sixth and Seventh Streets, this outdoor art gallery started life as a bit of civil disobedience, when local artists began painting over the graffiti that marked the power poles.  The activity quickly spread, with original works being painted on the walls, canvases occasionally nailed up in the middle of the night, and elaborate collages being produced.  The popularity of the exhibit with local art students and tourists seems to have ensured its survival, and artists have demonstrated marvelous creativity in integrating the alley’s fixtures and features into their work. Graffiti and art combine in a landscape that’s just as entertaining as any museum.

Our third Rapid City discover is even less obvious.  We were tipped off by a local to the existence of a car and motorcycle museum at A&A Auto Salvage.  A museum?  In a junkyard?  Sounded great to us.

We found the place, and we weren’t disappointed.  It’s not just the 70 or so cars and 30 or so motorcycles on display that made it a worthwhile way to spend two hours.  The collection also includes a flock of antique bicycles, military equipment, a biplane, a restored road grader, a replica gas station and a full-size elephant sculpted from chrome bumpers.  All of the cars are roadworthy (and are hooked up to battery chargers to keep them ready to roll), and have been collected over the years by the family that owns the boneyard.

It’s a long story, but in 1936 Mary Adams (or “Legendary Mary” as our tour guide called her) closed up her Queen Anne-style mansion at 22 Van Buren Street (there is some evidence that she was chased out of the house by the ghost of her two-years-dead husband) and left it with everything inside.  The house, built in 1892 and considered one of the “grandest” houses west of the Mississippi, remained closed up until the 1980s, changed hands a couple of times (still with everything inside), narrowly escaped being turned into a bed and breakfast, then narrowly escaped being demolished, and in 1998 the city of Deadwood declared it a historic site and decided to restore it.

The Adams House tour is one of the better old-house tours out there, and even if you’re not particularly into old houses, the story of the house itself and how it came to be shut up with everything inside is interesting.  The furnishings are all original, and great pains have been taken to put the place back to original, helped along nicely by spare tiles, stencils and careful cataloguing that enabled restoration of the damaged parts of the house.  The fixtures–including the Vaseline glass and fireplace tiles whose gorgeous pattern comes courtesy of the fact that they’re made using lead, arsenic and mercury–are breathtaking.  The original gold-plated table settings were even discovered during the house’s tenure as a B&B, locked away in a security safe under the front stairs.  The house features Tiffany glass light fixtures, a faucetless bathtub with 18-carat gold trim, pocket doors and was the first in the region to be equipped with a telephone, coal-gas heating and a thermostat.  The marble sinks are valued at $300,000 and on top of that the place might be haunted; how cool is that?  One of the first Frigidaire electric refrigerators graces the kitchen, just across from the spot where Mary ripped the servant’s call box out of the wall just before she left the house for good.

Our tour guide, Natasha, was a Deadwood native whose grandmother was actually a friend of Mary’s, and had the inside story of the house and “Legendary’s” life (Here’s one:  back when women weren’t allowed to work except in the brothels, she disguised herself as a man so she could play piano at the saloon.  I won’t spoil the rest.)

The Adams House is open May-1 to October 31, and it’s a 45-minute tour.

Within a few miles of the Big Pine are the Four Mile Old West Town and the National Museum of Woodcarving.  Taking in one outdoor and one indoor attraction seemed like a good way to spend a day off, so we did just that.

The Four Mile Old West Town is named for the stagecoach and mail stop that was once there, and is (not surprisingly) about four miles outside of Custer.  The exhibit includes a boardwalk and a collection of over 50 furnished Old West buildings.

The tour is self-guided.  At the tourist season’s height, daily performances are put on by interpreters in period garb, but we visited just after Labor Day (the town is open through October but shows end after Labor Day), so the most active thing in the Four Mile Old West Town was a mother cat who was busily shifting her kittens from the bootlegger’s shack to a warmer spot in the horse stables.

Other exhibits include a stockade (mostly used for storage) and a Native American display.  The Four Mile Old West Town could do with some cleaning up of the incongruous and anachronistic objects that have found their way into the mix (some parts of the stockade look more like garage-sale storage than historical exhibits) but it’s a worthwhile diversion, and the staff are friendly and knowledgeable.

We were less impressed by the National Museum of Woodcarving.  Dr. Harley Niblack, who designed and built many of the animatronics at Disneyland in the 1950s, created motorized, hand-carved wood dioramas between 1936 and 1966, and the museum was established to house them.

Um…they’re kind of creepy, actually.  Sorry, Dr. Niblack.  The attached woodcarving studio, where on-staff carvers are on hand to demonstrate their art and train would-be sculptors of wood, is somewhat more interesting.  The National Museum of Woodcarving also offers summer classes.

About halfway between Custer and Rapid City is Hill City, home to the 1880 Train on the Black Hills Central Railroad. Railfans no doubt already know (and will correct me if I get any of this wrong) that the 1880 Train runs from Hill City to Keystone and back, recreating the experience of riding an early 20th-century train (except with narration, of course). Antique steam locomotives pull restored passenger cars up a four-percent grade, past the ghost town of Oblivion and the backside of Mt. Rushmore, and into Keystone. Enclosed and open cars are available, and make sure you check out the iron scrollwork and hinges in the restored cars.

It’s a rickety ride, full of smoke and soot and about an hour each way, but enjoyable and worthwhile as well. The best plan is to make a day of it; catching the early train out of Hill City and spending a couple of hours in Keystone before riding back. Keystone’s a gambling town at first glance, mostly full of gambling and gift-shopping. Cool stuff includes the Holy Terror antique store/candy shop (make sure you say hi to Sluggo, a brutal-faced but incredibly friendly bulldog who will enthusiastically attempt to play with anyone who comes through the door), and the bordello themed Ruby House restaurant which offers tasty buffalo burgers.

Keystone also has a walking tour of its historic downtown, a tourist-trap gold mine or two, and of course Mt. Rushmore’s on the other side of the mountain (though not within walking distance).

Just when you’re getting sick of walking around, and of taffy and chocolate-covered marshmallows, the train arrives for the return trip. Back in Hill City, the short downtown strip offers the usual assortment of tourist shops, the dinosaur-sportin’ Black Hills Museum of Natural History and the Alpine Inn, where a tasty filet mignon and even tastier desserts await.

Known simply as “Sturgis” to its friends, the Sturgis motorcycle rally is an annual gathering of two- and three-wheelers that’s been going on for 69 years.  Attracting mostly Harley riders, this event almost doubles the population of South Dakota for two weeks in late July-early August, and is too big to be contained by just one town.  Events and attendance spill over into neighboring cities, and Custer is no exception.

In Custer, the center of Main Street is blocked off for motorcycle parking, and all of the businesses tout their biker-friendliness as the sound of open exhausts echoes through the Black Hills.  Sometimes it echoes very early in the morning, in fact.  The campground was filled with bikers in tents, trailers and RVs, and many of them rose at the crack of dawn to get on the road.

Despite the stereotypical Harley riders’ wild reputation, the majority of the folks who come to cruise the Black Hills are great, friendly people.  The “Thugs,” hailing from Chicago and environs, are long-time friends who ride their bikes out west and stay at the Big Pine for two weeks around Sturgis time every year.  Many tourists are scared off by the volume of leather and leathery biker skin on display, but it’s worth it to look past that particular prejudice.  Consider this:  having dealt with dozens of bikers attending Sturgis and subsequently an equal number of “normal” RVers and campers, we can definitely say that it’s the RV folks who are more likely to be belligerent jerks.

Seeing the local highways carrying more motorcycles than automobiles makes for an interesting role reversal.  Though most of the bikes are Harleys and similar cruisers, a fair number of touring bikes, both luxury tourers like Gold Wings and adventure tourers like KTMs and BMWs, are represented.  Also: the freaky 1970’s VW Bug/Harley hybrid trikes are alive and well.

Is it impressive?  No doubt about it.  Will you ask yourself “why” as you mill about with thousands of tourists?  Almost certainly.  Will you partake of a buffalo hot dog and peruse the massive gift shop?   You’d better; after all, you’re here, why not go for it?  Does Jefferson look kind of like our friend Henry?  Yeah, he does.

It seems a lot of trouble to go to, blasting some Presidents’ faces into the side of a mountain, Titan-size.  But sit and stare a while, and it’ll come to you.  It’s a mindset from a different era.  We don’t do things like this any more (think of the damage to the ecosystem!).  It’s not for me to say if that’s a good thing or a bad thing; personally, I prefer my mountains uncarved, which is why the Crazy Horse Memorial, just fifteen or so miles away, doesn’t excite me.  That one’s still in progress and, from the look of it, will be in progress until 2100.

The approach to Mt. Rushmore is equally impressive.  Rather than take the straight shot in, we detoured through Custer State Park, a drive that just about doubles the time it takes to make the trip.  There are three reasons to do this, and two of them are the road itself.  Narrow, one-lane tunnels have been carved through the mountain at several points.  We probably couldn’t have driven the Incorrigible through some of them; it’s too wide.  The road also curves over on itself in several places, like a freeway cloverleaf. These so-called “pigtail” bridges allow the road to traverse steep elevation changes without the need for blasting away at the landscape to level it.  The bridges themselves are built from local timber, too.

Custer State Park also gave us the opportunity to say that yes, we have seen buffalo roam.  Well, actually they were sort of milling about, but that seems to be a part of the roaming process.  Having also spotted deer and antelope playing, and seen purple mountain majesties, we’ve got almost the entire “America the Beautiful” BINGO card filled.

At first, we only saw a few of them, and thought, “Cool, buffalo!”  They were right up near the road, hence the good pictures. Then, around the next bend, “Holy hell, BUFFALO!” There were a great deal more of them. Just hanging out.  Roaming.