A Family Gamble Come on, is Las Vegas really a place to take the kids for vacation? By Tom Kavanagh The Washington Post Sunday, September 27, 1998; Page E01

"I only saw one prostitute while we were here," Rachel noted, apropos of nothing. "I expected a lot more."

Jeez. Kids these days. Watching way too much "Jerry Springer."

Still, her comment touched on the question we had come to Las Vegas to answer: Is Sin City as family-friendly as all the ballyhooed new "family" attractions suggest? Our mission had its more obvious side, of course. One needs to know if there's enough to do in this gambling center to satisfy juvenile interests for several days. But left unspoken was a corollary: Do the seamier, adult attractions intrude upon Ma, Pa and the young 'uns in their pursuit of more innocent pleasures?

Rachel pretty well summed up our answer, gleaned during a 4 1/2-day stay in spring. Sure, there were those ubiquitous taxi signs for something called Gentleman's Choice ("private dancers and strippers") and the Palomino Burlesque Palace ("Totally Nude!"), but with so many other attractions and distractions, they could hardly be called intrusive, much less offensive.

As for the other side of the equation, to give the short answer, there was more than enough to keep everyone happily engaged, and there were plenty of places we weren't able to visit despite a full daily agenda.

Make that Family Friendliness 2, Moral Decay 0.

As with every eye-catching claim, however, there's always the fine print. So, if you have kids and are thinking of Vegas as a Disney World-type destination, get your magnifying glass and read on.

First, a definition of "family" as it pertains to this case. There's 14-year-old Rachel, as noted, whose opposite bookend is James, 14 months old when we made the trip. Smack dab in the middle, sort of as ballast, is Ellie, 7. Then there's Mom and Dad, and along to provide another set of helpful hands was my 72-year-old mother-in-law.

Rachel and Ellie, who are low-maintenance troupers on the road, came away from Vegas flashing two very enthusiastic thumbs up. James, who's still not quite sure what a thumb is, got more stimulation than should be legal for a toddler. And his adult caretakers--all rather taken by the spectacle and extravagance of this desert resort--were nearly too exhausted from carrying, strolling, chasing after and generally puppy-guarding James to lift a thumb skyward after each strenuous day.

What we did on vacation: We stayed at a really cool hotel, and took trips each morning, afternoon and evening to . . . other really cool hotels.

This is not news, of course. The theme-parking of Las Vegas hotels has been well reported, as have the free attractions intended largely for family viewing: the erupting volcano in front of the Mirage, the pirate ship battle at Treasure Island, the dragon in the moat at Excalibur. (See accompanying chart for details.)

All have their appeal, but the duration of each is short (two to 10 minutes), the crowds are often thick and the intention is to direct one to related rides or other attractions, enjoyed at a cost.

Take the Forum Shops at Caesars Palace. Inside this wondrous shopping mall built to resemble a Roman village--with a vaulted ceiling that soothingly evokes an early evening sky--are two free shows featuring talking statues. We missed the one that features Bacchus and his pals touting the pleasures of shopping, but twice took in the extravaganza at the King Neptune fountain. There, at the top of every odd-numbered hour, three pedestals sink into the water, from which arise animatronic figures of the king and his quarrelsome offspring. For about 10 minutes, with a 360-degree light show and special effects filling the rotunda, the legend of Atlantis is retold to thunderous effect. Though the echo-y voices are tough to follow, one gets the drift of the story--and the message to visit the nearby "Race for Atlantis" 3-D motion simulator ride.

We did as we were told, forking over the admission fee ($9.50 for anyone 12 or older; $6.75 for kids under 12 but at least 42 inches tall; $8 for students or senior citizens). To my surprise, the 15-minute thrill was worth it. Wearing 3-D glasses, one sits before an Imax movie screen and "participates" in a high-speed chase after some sort of magic ring to "save" Atlantis, duking it out along the way with creatures that could have auditioned for the "Alien" films. As this plays out on the screen--and in one's head--the seats pitch and dip, air rushes by and the effect is like a roller coaster trip through Hell. I'm not a thrill-ride buff, but I must say, this was pretty nifty.

At Circus Circus, the attractions were less so. Free circus acts are offered along the midway, but our children could not be enticed. They were after the rides at the hotel's Grand Slam Canyon amusement park. (Ellie, disappointed that she failed to meet the 54-inch height requirement for the Manhattan Express roller coaster at New York New York, lobbied heavily for this visit; at 48 inches, she just qualified to get her jollies aboard the Canyon Blaster roller coaster and the Rim Runner water ride.)

Admission was $15.95 for Rachel, $11.95 for Ellie, and two to three hours of "fun" was about the most we could squeeze out of this cacophonous indoor park. Plus, there is a hidden cost potential. Both girls wanted to try out the trampoline bungee jump--stretch cords attached to the harness one wears allow for flips and extra height while bouncing--but that, as part of the park's "Xtreme Zone," was $4 additional. I joined them on the Rim Runner ($5 for me), but was so daunted by the sign warning of extreme drenching that I forked over another buck for the suggested poncho--basically a trash bag with a hole for your head.

Even on NYNY's Manhattan Express, where the wild 3 1/2-minute ride is well worth the $6 charge, one is tempted to spend more. On one of the final loops, a camera snaps the riders' pictures; by the time you disembark, there's your mug awaiting inspection on a video screen. For a mere $8.50, the image is yours for posterity. (We passed on the opportunity; the guy in my seat was way too green-looking to be me.)

At the Space Needle-like Stratosphere, $6 will get you to the 108-story-high observation level ($3 for kids), but another $5 is required for a spin on the High Roller, billed as the world's highest roller coaster. Being 1,149 feet above the ground does add an incomparable element to the experience, but the ride is far more coaster than roller, given that the tracks tightly hug the tower, circling it just three times. In less than a minute, the thrill--what there is of it--is gone.

I'll admit, though, to being too timid to try out Big Shot, which extends above the coaster at the pinnacle of the tower. Sixteen seated passengers are rapidly lifted, then dropped, several times, creating positive Gs on the way up and negative ones (i.e., brief weightlessness) on the way down. It'll relieve you of six bucks and, perhaps, your most recent meal.

Have you noticed a theme developing here? Let me spell it out: If you want to keep your kids entertained in Las Vegas, be ready to pony up. We expected a sure-fire crowd-pleaser at the Fremont Street Experience, another freebie, but left disappointed. Every hour starting around dusk, alternating shows of several minutes' duration play out to musical accompaniment on the three-block-long canopy of 2.1 million colored lights. I found the psychedelic "Odyssey" more arresting than the goofy "Country Western Nights," but the kids were underwhelmed by both. Maybe it was the late hour--11 p.m.--or the somewhat hard-bitten feel of the old downtown section. The light show is an attempt to compete with the glitter of the Strip, but I'm not sure the makeup job works. It's sort of like seeing your grandmother wear a miniskirt and stilettos. Eeuuwww.

Diametrically opposed geographically, and in terms of taste, is the Luxor, located at the southern end of the Strip. This 30-story black glass pyramid is a jaw-dropping sight in and of itself, but it also boasts a number of child-themed attractions in its cavernous and tomblike interior. Sad to say, however, that the one we tried was disappointing. Given the Luxor's ancient Egyptian theme, the $6 "In Search of the Obelisk" motion-simulation ride looked promising: One "descends" to a netherworld beneath the hotel, where mysterious artifacts have been discovered. While video screens issue "security" reports about saboteurs on the loose, tour groups are shuttled from chamber to chamber until boarding a "levitating" vehicle that returns them to the surface--dipping and darting away from the antagonists and crumbling ruins, seen on a movie screen ahead. My daughters and I would have given this a more favorable rating had we not taken the "Atlantis" voyage first, but without 3-D the "Obelisk" was more virtual than reality. It also suffered from too much story, which served only to add 15 minutes of explanatory padding to the five-minute ride.

The Las Vegas Hilton's "Star Trek: The Experience," which sounds rather like the Atlantis ride, looked intriguing, but we were unable to cram a visit into our itinerary. Ditto for some of the other attractions up and down the Strip: the conventional and 3-D Imax theaters in many hotels, the MGM Grand amusement park and the Mirage's "Secret Garden of Siegfried & Roy"--which is pretty well blabbed about for being a secret--and its rare-animal habitat.

Us? We passed those by in favor of . . . M&M's World!

Yup, four stories of everything you ever or never wanted to know or see about the candy that melts in your mouth, not in your hand. It's a store, actually, with no admission fee, but no one will stop you from pulling out the cash for anything from customized assortments of the candy in M&M colors you've never seen before (hey--this is the city of forbidden pleasures) to mugs, T-shirts, even dresses sequined with the sweet stuff.

See, you take kids to Vegas, this is where it can get you.

We could, truth be told, have spent a couple a days just at our own hotel--if my wife and I were serious gamblers and the kids were bowlers. Located a mile or so west of the Strip, the 22-story Orleans takes as its theme the French Quarter of its namesake city. The lobby consists of a rather dimly lit casino the size of a football field, which is ringed by seven restaurants. Thus, one can't help but pass among the beeping, techno-tweeting slot machines with every trip to breakfast, lunch or dinner. Nevada law prohibits minors from loitering in casinos, but that didn't stop low-rolling adults such as ourselves from dropping a few coins while strolling through with the kids. Only when Ellie excitedly reached into the tray for the five quarters--yeah, baby: five big ones--that I won at the Golden Nugget, did we feel the swift arm of the authorities. Ellie should be out on parole any day now.

(Hahahaha.)

The Orleans also boasts a pool-spa complex, 70-lane bowling facility, video arcade and 12 movie theaters with stadium seating (admission prices are the same as those at home). In other words, there are plenty of diversions available for kids. (The Orleans also features a wedding chapel, and Rachel and I amused ourselves for a while one afternoon watching the parade of rapt--read: tense, bickering--couples tying the knot. Now, that's entertainment!)

But perhaps the unsung hero of the hotel's family-oriented features is the one we (mistakenly) chose not to partake of: a spacious, well-staffed day-care center with a jungle gym the envy of any Chuck E. Cheese's. From 9 a.m. to midnight (1 a.m. on Fridays and Saturdays), babysitting is offered for $5 an hour per child, who must be between 3 months and 12 years old.

Using this service had seemed, well, wasteful, given that we had no desire to camp out in the casino or take in a stage show. But face it: Toddlers and crowded, noisy, visually overstuffed environments like Vegas are a combustible mix; stay away or handle with care. An extra adult goes a long way in providing the latter, but a couple of child-care breaks, even for just and hour or two, would likely have been a benefit to James and welcome relief to his handlers.

Las Vegas, for those of you who slept through geography class, sits in a valley surrounded by mountains of considerable majesty. And thanks to El Nino, the desert during our stay was about as green as it gets.

Given that, we took several breaks from the man-made wonders in town to take in some of nature's own. Most accessible is Red Rock Canyon, just 20 miles northwest of town. Here, like a russet line drawn in the mountainside by an oversize crayon, are the eponymous red sandstone formations. A 13-mile loop road provides a grand overview--or maybe that should be underview--of these impressive bluffs, but hiking trails can be accessed from various points. We proceeded a couple of hundred yards along one, done in finally by the limits of our stroller, or maybe just the guy pushing it.

Probably the most common side trip for Vegas visitors is the one to Hoover Dam, about 40 minutes to the southeast, at the Arizona line. We joined the crowd, which grew thick as we approached on a Saturday afternoon. Almost as impressive as the engineering behind the 726-foot-high concrete slab is one's first glimpse of Lake Mead--a magnificent sheet of electric blue--made while rounding a turn on state Route 93 and descending toward Boulder City. Awesome.

Had the two younger kids not been in tow, we would have done our time in line and taken a tour of the dam, but their limits were everyone's limits; we settled for a stroll along the top, and gleaned what we could of history and geology and human undertaking from plaques and photos in the ticketing area. Still, it was worth the trip.

On our last day, we came face to face with Death . . . Valley. What an exquisite encounter! About two hours northwest of Vegas, just over the California border, is desolation of the most spectacular sort. Actually, almost the entire trip from Vegas is a visual feast, but the scenery is most sumptuous as one descends--and descends--into the valley. Here, rock wall colors seem right out of the Grand Canyon, the salt pan of the valley floor looms like a snow field, badlands--actually washed out canyons known as alluvial fans--flow like ancient rivers of dry mustard, and snow-capped peaks rise 11,000 feet above a valley floor almost 300 feet below sea level.

So vast is Death Valley that one could spend days checking out the sights. During our much shorter stay (let's see, how many minutes was it . . .), we took in the Harmony Borax Works interpretive trail, where the 20-mule teams once labored, eye-popping wild flower fields and Zabriskie Point. This last stop I almost passed by, recognizing the turnoff to it only as the title of a vaguely remembered '60s film. But if the movie had been as good as this view, it would have topped the charts: In every direction, the vistas are breathtaking, mind-blowing, awe-inspiring. One sifts through and discards superlatives, which pale against the experience. In the end, in places such as this, words fail.

And the kids? Could they express their reactions to this almost sacred domain? Alas, yes.

"It's pretty," said Rachel, "but it's not really my thing."

"It's nice," said Ellie, "but it's not fun like a roller coaster."

We climbed back into the van, and made tracks for Vegas.

For more information, contact the Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority at 702-892-7575 or via the Internet at http://www.lasvegas24hours.com. Especially handy is the authority's schedule of conventions, which affects room availability and rates. If you find your travel dates coincide with a major convention and are having trouble booking rooms at a reasonable price, contact a broker such as Reservations Plus (1-800-805-9528); we secured a spacious, well-appointed room at the Orleans for $49 per weeknight through the service, quite a savings over scarce accommodations available at various hotels we contacted directly.