The Las Vegas Strip hides in its haze.
In my quest for dirt, I left snow covered Flagstaff for the likes of Sin City. In less than four hours I was knocking on fellow ultrarunner, Josh Brimhall's, front door. No sin would be had this trip (sorry everybody). It was simply nose to the grindstone. Running would be the topic of the weekend.
The greenery of Harrah's Cascata Golf Course and the Eldorado Dry Lake Bed far below the River Mountains.
The runs would take us wondering through the River Mountains. A small range of red and black summits that separate Vegas from its much smaller satellite, Boulder City. Technical single-track carved out by industrious mountain bikers and the newly completed, paved River Mountain Trail were our paths for the weekend. Most definitely some of the best winter running to be had in the country: 60 degrees, sun, snow and ice free. It was good to get dust on my shoes and a slight tan on my nose after the two days of running that totaled 50 kilometers.
My running companions: Josh Brimhall and Zoroaster.
Zoroaster, "Why are we stopping?"
A small segment of the River Mountain Trail, looking towards Henderson and Vegas beyond.
The Author and Z-Dog.