In addition to the rental backpack, I'd laid out a fair chunk of money leading up to the trip in an effort to accumulate things I not only thought necessary for Zion, but also hoped to use during the sabbatical months as I wandered the country in search of peace and inspiration in whatever order they came. Thus, I became the owner of three DryFit shirts, trail shorts and pants, a sports fleece, a rain jacket, wool socks, a spork with a built-in knife (still deserving of a greater portmanteau), and a floating waterproof wallet. Furthermore, Mom sent along my long underwear, a headlamp, a lantern, and a sunblocking hat. It was admittedly strange to pack rental luggage with mostly new and borrowed gear. I should have seen it as a sign of how far outside of my norm the trip would be, but oddly enough, the extremity of the trip only revealed itself in retrospect, hand in hand with accomplishment. I am thankful for that, as I never had a moment of doubt.
I certainly had no doubts as I stepped off the plane into the familiar halls of McCarren Airport in Vegas. I retrieved my Big Green Pack (hereafter BGP) between texts from Moffet instructing me to meet him and Dan at Enterprise where they were picking up the car. A shuttle ride and some crossed wires later, I finally met the guys, both of whom bore similar lumpy backpacks, identifying us throughout the trip as a species of travelers apart from the waves of bachelor(ette) parties and downward spirals making up the rest of the city.
After loading up the car, I guided Dan to the Tropicana, where we checked in, dropped our gear, and hit the restaurant for a late (and second) dinner. It was a good opportunity to settle down from our separate travels and realize that here, in fact, the three of us were: Dan, Moffet, and Ian, sitting in a hotel/casino restaurant in Vegas and about to embark on a four-day, three-night excursion into Zion National Park. It was just over a month since the others had invited me along and in that time, I'd waffled and agonized, wondering if it was a sensible decision so close to my own big leap. Luckily, I listened to my better angels (and quite a few supportive friends) and, as we sat shooting the shit about the respective worlds from which we'd each be retreating, I was already thrilled.
Dinner settling cozily in our stomachs (filet mignon wrap? yes please), we ordered another round to take up to the room for the packing extravaganza. Despite buying and borrowing all that I had, I still felt like I was pulling up the rear in terms of preparation. As an example, my knife provoked Dundee-esque reactions from the others and Moffet loaned me a massive blade that became my sense of security through the following days. Dan laid out the various foodstuffs he'd brought, while Moffet itemized the sleeping setups. We split up things as much as possible and tried each other's packs to make sure no one was being a hero. Those trail packs are really incredible; the various adjustments go a long way to distributing 30-40 pounds of gear and allow for mobility and comfort as much as possible.
Once we felt like we'd made the best of our time, Dan had to work, so Moff and I popped down to the casino for a little gaming. I played a quick game of craps, but the combination of losing and feeling like Moff was just watching drove us instead to the blackjack table, where we played maybe an hour of sad hands beside two sob stories in human form. To that point, Dan and Moff really noticed the dive-y nature of the Trop throughout our stay and I felt defensive at times, but ultimately, I completely agree that it's run-down, but the beds work, the price is right, and the rest of Vegas is just outside the doors. It shouldn't be the jewel in anyone's Vegas trip crown, but it's a serviceable place, and the guys acknowledged that, too. We got our fill of "real" Vegas, if there is such a thing, on Monday anyway.
With a little less money and some transference of world-weariness from our table-mates, Moff and I cashed out and rejoined Dan, who continued to work as we washed up, set alarms, and got in bed. The morning would come soon, and with it would come a drastic shift in the nature of our activities.
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