When you hit Red Rock you’ll notice that the terrain is littered various shrubs and a spectrum of colossal rock faces that range from crumpled terracotta hills to iPhone, “Space Gray” mountains. In the same field of view, I saw open sky, an assortment of moody clouds shuffling about, and a rain storm on the cerulean horizon of mountains to far to climb, to muted to name.
If you watched the old Bear Gryllis Man vs. Wild episodes with him eating and drinking unspeakables near your local interstates, you have a paranoia about walking in the desert for the inevitable rattlesnake to strike at your unguarded ankles through your Tom’s loafers and obnoxious and unseasonable “The North Face” vest-thing. I’m here to tell you that it isn’t…quite true. While there are snakes here, there aren’t as many as tried to avoid. I found myself jumping far too often over grounded twigs and twisted brush. I’m no Bear Gryllis but in my defense, Bear Gryllis might not be “Bear Gryllis”.
When you’re between the canyon, the air, no everything, is noticeably clearer. The quiet is more present and immediate and you’re able to feel how very small you are in comparison to the formations in front of you. They’ll occupy your eyes and spirit completely without compromise.