Red Rocks

Not many people know it, but the desert outside of Las Vegas is beautiful. The mountains that surround that city are often overlooked because of the flashiness of the Strip and the various manmade wonder that constantly vie for your attention. But if you are lucky enough to be able to look past the Mirage and the MGM you will find high red peaks crossed by small white trails that lead you through some of the most stunning desert in the world. Or so I read in one of the brochures piled in my lap as I sat in Southwest Airline’s small seats. I was excited to go to Las Vegas, and I was determined to have a memorable trip that was more than the stereotypical “Las Vegas experience,” and I thought I had just found the little something extra that would give this trip the unusualness and adventure I craved. So, after a week of wandering through the man made wonders cluttering the valley floor I drove out of the city, past the manicured palm trees into the hills dominated by twisted yucca and sagebrush.
As I parked my red rental car in the parking lot I breathed in the scorching desert air and looked around at the sandstone landscape. This was exactly what I wanted! As I started out on the neat path marked by white stones I knew I had found something that very few people would be able to boast of after coming back from Vegas. The hike was enchanting. The trail wound through small thickets and over trickling streams. Large boulders were marked with ancient hand prints and mystical stick figures of long lost Indian tribes, and burros watched me with large brown eyes from distant hills.
As I walked along, enjoying the sunshine and the lovely views I spotted a couple of boulders a ways from the pat that leaned against each other, creating a shadowy cave between them. I looked around and didn’t see anyone who would object to my leaving the path, so I stepped off of the white stones and clambered up to explore the cave I had spotted. It was a bit farther up the hill than I had realized at first, so I welcomed the shade as I rested against the dusky sandstone. This cave reminded me of when I was a little girl and I played on sandstone boulders, exploring and climbing high over my anxious mother’s head. I glanced out of the cave and saw that the sun was still high in the sky. Perfect, I thought, I still have hours before sunset. Plenty of time to do some exploring. Just excited as I had been when I was eight I clamored off, following the cave deep into the mysterious sandstone palace, climbing over fallen blocks of red rock and piles of gray sand. I continued on until I emerged into a small valley. All around me grew twiggy bushes with hesitant green leaves opening their hopeful faces towards the sun. Across the valley a small waterfall cascaded over the rocks, sending a refreshing mist across my face. Happily I sat down on a lichen covered rock and reached into my bag for my water bottle. But my hand came back empty. Shocked at my forgetfulness, I remembered that I had left my water bottle sitting on the seat of my little red rental car in the parking lot miles away. I sighed at my absentmindedness and decided that without water I should head back soon or I would have to worry about sunstroke. Resignedly, I got up to leave the valley.
Two hours later I scrambled over yet another sandstone boulder. The sun was at my back and was casting worryingly long shadows in front of me. I didn’t understand, the path had been this direction, I was sure of it. But every time I climbed around a boulder, convinced that on the other side I would find the little path of white stones, nothing met my eyes except more boulders and a plain full of prickly pear. I had learned to hate those small cactus, they were just the height that they pricked right though my socks, making my ankles itch and sting. And they were everywhere, covering every inch of ground that wasn’t a lonely pile of boulders. My mouth was dry now, so every breath stuck to the roof of my mouth and made me think longingly of the water bottle in the lost parking lot. I was worried. No matter how many boulders I climbed over I could not find the path. And the sun was definitely setting now. Horrified, I shivered in the rapidly cooling air as the sun dipped below the hills behind me. Frantically I rushed through the fields of prickly pear, searching for the stones that I hoped would still glow white under the light of the moon. Somewhere below me I could see the red glow of the city, like a bloodstain across the edge of the horizon. Somewhere close by a coyote howled, a strange yipping sound that sent shivers up my spine. After awhile I realized that the more I wandered in the dark the more lost I was going to get. Exhausted, I fell into a small hollow under one of the sandstone boulders and fell asleep.
I woke up with a start in the gray predawn light. I couldn’t figure out why, until I felt something crawling up my leg. I screamed and jumped out of the hollow, shaking my leg frantically. A small black shape flew off and hit the stone where my head had been moments before, and I stared in horror as the scorpion landed and started scuttling towards me, its tail raised menacingly. Blindly I turned around and fled, tripping over more prickly pear and scraping my knees raw on the red sandstone. By the time the sun was above the mountains I was exhausted again. My ankles stung and were bleeding. I gasped, my throat felt like it was cracking from want of moisture. I leaned against a boulder and sobbed, but I had no tears to shed. I needed water, and I needed to find a way back to the city. I stood up and wandered down the hill. Down meant I was going away from the mountains and towards the valley, and the valley meant the city, right?
I stumbled into the dried out streambed by mistake. But since it was free of prickly pear and headed down, towards the city, I decided to follow it. I was so tired I barely noticed as the bright sunlight faded. I didn’t wrench my eyes up from the dusty ground below my feet until I felt a raindrop hit the back of my head. Thrilled, I looked up at the dark sky a moment before the rain started. I had never experienced this kind of rain before. I poured down from the sky in warm waves, completely drenching me in a matter of seconds. I opened my mouth and gulped down mouthful after mouthful of sweet water, feeling it course down my parched throat and revitalize my sun burned limbs. I held out my arms and laughed in triumph, knowing that with those few mouthfuls I would regain the strength I needed to reach the city and my waiting hotel room. I wiped the water out of my eyes and set off with renewed vigor. But it was harder to walk than it had been, the sand beneath my feet had turned into mud, and there was a bit of water rushing around my stinging ankles. In a few seconds the water had risen to my knees, and by now the current was pushing hard against my legs. I struggled to make it out of what was fast becoming a strong stream, but with a horrifying jolt my feet were swept out from under me. The water rushed me along, pushing me under its muddy surface and smashing me against the rocky sides of the stream bed. I struggled, tearing my hands on the bushes that rushed past, crying as it became harder and harder to keep my head above the water. Slowly the world condensed into the swirling waters that filled my eyes and the burning in my lungs as I spat out another mouthful of water. And then there was only blackness creeping in quickly until it filled my mind and I sank beneath the torrent.
As the clouds rolled away the sun peered down on the desert landscape. The storm was over and the only evidence of its passing were fields of prickly pears slowly unfurling their delicate, blood red petals and the muddy stream winding its way down the mountain..