Red Rock

005_21aThe 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.

006_20aWest is best.

003_23aThe wash.

007_19aWith views and friends like these…

010_16aYou can’t tell from the shot, but it was hella windy.

012_14aMassive sightlines.

013_13aFear and loathing.

002_24aSunrise at the Red Rock campsite.

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