Fear the Crab

Thursday (28 May) was another drive to another canyon, but this time the distance was much shorter. We went to Red Rock Canyon, ~18 miles west of Las Vegas, where the rocks are, naturally, quite red.

Chuckwalla

It took us over half an hour to get there, thanks to a frustrating map application on Maile’s iPhone. For some strange reason, it gave us a complicated series of turns down side streets filled with speed bumps and through stop signs against major thoroughfares, ending with a drive down a main street with traffic signals. I have no idea why it didn’t give us a faster or more direct route like… oh, I don’t know, maybe the damn freeway?!

Still, we made it there with our sanity intact, and I’d say the destination was very worthwhile. We found it quite interesting to discover that the red layers of rock were actually older than the lighter layers underneath, flipped about thanks to a thrust fault in the area. The site’s “scenic drive” took us to several lookouts that offered different views of the desert and mountains, and we took advantage of each one to snap a few photos.

Calico Hills at the Red Rock Canyon

We weren’t, however, that interested in trying to hike the darn place. In the above photo you might be able to spot two individuals without that kind of hesitation. It wasn’t surprising to see many who shared that interest, and they were well-prepared (we hoped, anyway) with water and light clothing. And hopefully, thick, knee-high boots, because of the risk of rattlesnakes (though at high noon, the risk is significantly lower).

Instead, we were content to stand around at the various lookouts and marvel at the sights. Someone mentioned that there were burros in the area that would come out to cars and mooch food, and it seemed at every turn of the scenic route someone would scan the desert to find them. I wasn’t really interested in having a burro’s mouth pressed up against the window, honestly, so I was quite glad they never appeared.

Throughout the scenic drive, I often imagined how difficult it was for people to traverse the vast expanse of desert before the implementation of roads, trails, or even outposts. Coming from a personal history of living in comfort, it’s a sobering realization that when it comes to survival, I really can’t live without clean running water and all the other luxuries of modern Western living. At the very least, on this road trip I brought the right clothes, wore my straw hat, and carried water, so I was still comfortable in the “rugged” outdoors. And thank goodness for cell reception, because had the rental car broken down, we could request assistance (though I’d hope no one would ask how to get to us).

After the canyon, we headed east to the Clark County Heritage Museum. One of the attractions of this place is a selection of historic buildings situated along an outdoor walk. It was rather like walking through time as we started from the Paiute Village, through old-timey western-type general stores, old train facilities, and houses from past decades.

Paiute hut

Let me tell you, those Paiute knew their shit. I wasn’t expecting it based on how it looked, but it really felt like it was 10° F cooler inside that hut than standing outside in the sun. It makes me regret not ever joining the Boy Scouts; I think I could have learned some seriously cool things.

Later that evening, we had a nice quiet dinner at Second Street Grill, at the Fremont Hotel. I had the “Mongolian” lamb, which was a rack of chops in a hoisin-based sauce, with pesto mashed potatoes. I highly doubt the lamb had anything to do with Mongolia, but it was quite delicious! I regret having a simple Samuel Adams with that meal, though there wasn’t much of a beer selection to begin with.

Quote of the day: “Hey, bunnies!”

Desert Cottontail