Red Rocks, for real this time

Ahoy,

We spent the last weekend of March in the depths of the desert, I don't know why. Everything I have ever learned in my life tells me to stay away from the desert, no less live in one (LA). The things I do for handsome men. We left Culver City under the dark of night on a Friday. We drove through the darkness going to nowhere, it seemed to me. Sometime late into the evening, we emerged from crossing the universe onto a strange place. The width of the roads and number of lanes was alarming. We drove down the strip, which was not my decision. It looks like Times Square but more obnoxious, and the people definitely seem less sober and self contained than those in NYC.

At the Las Vegas Hotel, it seemed like we walked around forever and a day to get to the lobby. We checked in and I jumped on the beds. It was pretty late, approaching 2am, and we were hungry still. We went to look for food, but you'd think it would have been easier to hunt for my own food. With meager sleep, we drove out to Red Rocks after resisting McDonald's. I completed my first outside V2, called Potato Chips. I'd like to thank the potato chips I had for dinner the night before, I couldn't have done it without them. We continued shuffling from climb to climb, as I crouched under shade at every boulder. Thank the heavens for the clouds that came our way sporadically throughout the day.

After stuffing out besotted bellies at Sushi Koma, we returned to our hotel to nap or shower or both. I just wanted to watch hotel tv. Commercials are something of a luxury in my mind now because I no longer spend my days with the tv on for lack of a tv. We then embarked on a journey that I'm sure no one else signed on for when we got on the monorail. The RRS and I were on this mad power-walk to see everything in the world and as many casinos as possible. Meanwhile, our ragtag group of friends were quickly falling in step and lagging in spirit as this road seemed never-ending. Hats off to these troopers that put up with our shenanigans. Needless to say, tonight was a good sleep.

The final day we went back to Red Rocks and climbed on a particularly windy boulder. I felt like a sailboat when I was wearing the crash pad, it was just as fun as that sounds. We hiked up this hill that looked like it was just a big pile of boulders. It was super, duper windy at the top and we scrambled around looking for I don't know what because there were only rocks, rocks, and more rocks. The only way was up until we had to go down to drive back to LA.





aridly dusty,
jt