Moved back into this guy a month ago.  First stop, the Red River Gorge.

The Gallery.

I drifted into consciousness.  Still dark.  Sleep a little longer.  As I rolled on my side, my head pushed through the opening of my sleeping bag.  Light flooded my eyesight.

Sunrise.  Red rock campsite.  Excitement flooded me, immediately sharpening my senses.  I fished my phone out of my jeans and checked the time.  6:00 AM.  I crawled out of my bag and pulled my shoes on.  Standing up, I took stock of my surroundings.  The sun was just barely hidden behind a small hill to my east.  To my west the rock was was illuminated by golden light.  “Fuck yes.” I whispered to myself.  “West is best.”  Next to me Ian slowly began crawling out of his sleeping bag, probably thinking the same thing.

As quietly as possible I trotted out of the busy camping area and into the parking lot.  We had pitched in the campground late the night before, when it was still too dark to really take in our surroundings.  My environment was newfound, and exceedingly beautiful.  Growing up in the southeast does not prepare you for the raw desolateness that is the desert.  To this day it’s still the environment I’ve spent the least amount of time in.

West is best.

The wash.

With views and friends like these…

You can’t tell from the shot, but it was hella windy.

Massive sightlines.

Fear and loathing.

Sunrise at the Red Rock campsite.