What happens in Vegas... is a big F**k You to Mother Nature

I don't recall if it was on my first or second trip to Las Vegas, but I remember driving down to the desert from Seattle, and spending 5 days in Death Valley before finding myself on The Strip. Although the eerie nothingness of the desert was a little unnerving at times, I fell in love with its barren beauty, and the quiet. When I finally drove down into Las Vegas after communing deeply with the canyons and dunes, my head began to throb with the glaring lights, the pollution, the inescapable noise, and the stench of human arrogance. Now with each visit to this so-called oasis, I feel that I'm missing out on something much bigger than the vast hotels, more beautiful than the ornate fountains and decor, and more meaningful than, well, anything you could possibly experience in a place that pushes fast and fleeting moments of ecstasy.

As I flew into Vegas two weeks ago for a business engagement, I looked down from my perch into the desert and tried to ignore the beckoning dusty roads. It's frustrating when an adventure is at your fingertips, and you have no choice but to let it go.

Road or run-off?

You know you're getting close to Vegas when the plane descends bumpily over this ridge.



 

The vast nothing... and the invasion of man.

This turned into a scenic flight as we flew right past the Vegas Strip and the airport and circled around for landing. I certainly didn't mind taking in the view.



There's The Strip in the above photo, smack dab in the middle and conveniently located next to the airport.

And now for a view of the other side.