Alex soon awoke too with our hundreds of neighbors at the packed campground already getting rowdy. Another day on the run as we packed and left Zion for a more wholesome place… Las Vegas. We sadly passed by the world-renowned sport climbing of the Virgin River Gorge and Red Rocks, NV but we are slightly pressed for time and I don’t mind having reason to fly into Vegas for another visit. We approached the city form the east and headed straight for the strip. We got some zany pictures of all the commotion. The delicate suggestions of nude dudes and chicks popped out everywhere.
Wild times. We tried our luck at the slots ($4 dollars worth), ate cheap sandwiches at a food court, snuck into a ritzy hotel pool to scope some babes (which we hadn’t seen in weeks), and even tied to swing a cheap room at the plush Encore hotel and casino. A couple dollars less but 10 prostitute trading cards more we left with little else to speak of (“what happens in Vegas….”).
Just one more dollar! Please!The next 100 miles or so were spent regretting and trying to justify our decision to leave Sin City so quickly, a true representation of our unwavering morality. We crossed through some plains of Nevada then dove into the eastern Sierras of California. We passed through a bristlecone pine forest, home to the oldest living organisms in the world (some of the trees up to 4,500 years old.) The dusty roads of this desert dissolved behind us and we finally made it to Bishop, CA. Probably seems an unlikely destination to most, but climbers know it to be the highball bouldering capital of America. We set up a lovely campsite in the shadow of the Sierras, still covered in snow, and next to the mammoth boulders of the Buttermilk Area. We watched Chris Sharma and friends kill it in Bishop and elsewhere in his featured film King Lines.
Sierras in the background
A BIG boulder field
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