After our quick dip in Lake Mead and our tour of the Hoover dam we headed North and out of the Lake Mead National Recreational Area and into Nevada’s Valley of Fire State Park. It was still well over one hundred degrees when we arrived around four in the afternoon. We made camp and drank iced beverages until later in the evening when the sun and the heat were a little bit less intense. The scenery in the park and on the way to it had been your typical desert fare mixed with staggeringly red pieces of lifted rock. The campground itself was in one of these outcroppings, and, I assume, is what gave the site its name.
We borrowed a tradition from our real-life friend, and Burning Man family member, Avril and gave ourselves ice and salt foot baths. I wasn’t able to convince Celine that a pedicure was a good idea, but then again I couldn’t really muster up much conviction for my argument. It’s been about 15 years since the cleft between my pinkie toes and the rest of my foot has been a place anyone should visit.
As the sun was setting we took a longer walking tour of our campground and found a few elaborate natural stone arches. The rocks above and around the loop of our campground were pocked with what looked like multi-level residences a la Mesa Verde’s cliff dwellers, but I think that these were just simple elemental erosion on a grand scale.
Another night on top of the covers and a morning serenade from a saxophone student hidden in the twisting of the rock’s path around us wrapped up our time in the Valley of Fire and the state of Nevada.
