Las Vegas… Why?

Someone PLEASE tell me, WHAT is the appeal of Las Vegas?

I know hundreds, at least 70% of the people I know, they all rave about Vegas. “Let’s go to Vegas!” are the four words out of every girl’s mouth when ‘bachelorette party’ is mentioned. Ugh. After a rather boring thrust mugging from a furry boot clad male stripper in ‘warrior’ wear sometime in the 90′s, I really could care less for partying in Vegas. 

But Vegas is the closest airport to Zion National Park and since I’m on my way to backpack the Narrows, I find myself among the clanging slot machines at McCarren International Airport. 

First off, let me warn you about Spirit Air and their $29 flights to Vegas. $29 is like the cover charge at a nightclub: you still have to pay for drinks once you’re inside the club. On Spirit, they charge you for 1) using the airport 2) carrying luggage 3) breathing. Please just check out their website. It’s about as current as an iMac G3. All I’m saying, $40 for CARRY ON luggage. You’ve been warned. 

Second, I’m surrounded by the most orange people alive. You’d think with all that Nevada sun, they could have a natural tan if they wanted. But why tan when you can get darker than suede leather in a 20 minute orangeade shower?

So I’m cranky. This is so not my vibe. I can’t afford to drink and I don’t gamble. The only thing that appeals to me is the buffet at the Pasta Pirate. If you don’t have money in Vegas, you’re just assed out. 

“Why don’t you go rock climbing in Red Rocks?” a friend suggested. Red Rocks, what the hell is that?

As it turns out, it’s the most beautiful land of red sandstone formations you’ll ever see within 20 minutes of a major metropolitan city. Camping, hiking, and most importantly, rock climbing. Thousands of vertical routes just itching to have chalked hands massage their flaky edges. Ochoa smiling at you. Boulders of limestone and white sandstone beckon. 

At the top of one of my climbs, I sat and surveyed the land spilling before me. It was gorgeous and strangely desolate. It was an outdoor dream. And I looked to my left at the city of Vegas and wondered -marveled really- why the masses of teeming tourists would rather visit a replica of Paris than visit this natural wonder of America…