Our first planned stop on our final day after Vegas was the Meadview Overlook (actually, located just above Pearce Ferry).  The absolute grandeur of this place is indescribable, and justice isn't done to the view through photos (but see the one above, anyway.  It's still quite impressive!)  This is the second year that we have visited this spot, and I now understand why Lee considers it to be one of the most dramatic views of physical geography in the West.  In the complete view from the overlook shown above, the "end" of the Grand Canyon can be seen to the right, where the Colorado River spills out into Lake Mead through the Grand Wash Cliffs.  This feature represents the western edge of the Colorado Plateau.  To the west can be seen the beginning of the Basin and Range province.  So, here one can look out over one of the earth's massive continental boundaries, between two of the West's principle physiographic regions: the Basin and Range and the Colorado Plateau.  By the way, this used to be the edge of the North American continent at one time, as the "precambrian basement" dives down deep right under this general area.  Everything west of here is "newly added" continent, due to tectonic activity from the West.  Neat place.
    Before being wowed at Meadview Overlook, however, we first visited an obscure salt flat, known to physical geographers as a playa.  Labeled as Red Lake, Lee knew exactly what turnoff was required to reach this desolate place, not very far out of the village of Meadview in western Arizona.  That morning at the campsite, Lee had given us a preview of Red Lake, explaining that it was a rather typical salt flat, created when the climate of Arizona had been somewhat cooler and wetter during glacial times.  The lake that used to occupy this vast valley, like many other playas in the arid West, had deposited thousands of feet of salt and other materials over time.  Apparently they had drilled for oil here in the 1970s, and that’s when they discovered that Red Lake was nearly a mile deep with salt and clay.  Depositionally speaking, this lake had been quite busy!  Also, these salt flats tend to be among the flattest natural surfaces on the planet, primarily because water bodies deposit materials very evenly on their beds.  Hearing about it, I was not impressed, except with the process that created it.  I was thinking, “flat, hot, and boring”.  Well, the first two descriptors turned out to be quite accurate, but not the third.  It was really an amazing place, and I think the students thought so as well.  If nothing else, it made for a great surface to play frisbee on.
     So, after about a mile driving down a dirt road, we arrived at the “edge” of Red Lake, obviously at low tide today.  Lee was in the lead van, of course, and we were the third on this trip.  Lee knew where we were going, he had made it clear that he had been here before.  So upon arriving at the “edge,” we carefully turned off the road and bumped our way for a few feet onto the lakebed itself.  Suddenly we found ourselves “off-roading” on a salt flat!  Having never done this before, let alone within a 15-passenger van, I was a bit skeptical about the whole thing, but Lee knew what he was doing.  Lee’s van took off across the lakebed, and "Third Van" followed close behind.  Our van followed them both, with me driving.  After a few seconds, I relaxed and started to enjoy the experience.  This “lake” was flatter and smoother than some types of pavement!  And there were no boundaries!  It was a very different type of experience.  There was no “staying on the road”.  There was no road, just a massive flat valley with hard-packed sediments beneath us, seemingly never-ending to the horizon.  We were zooming across this thing at 50mph-plus, and it reminded me instantly of one of the first Star Wars movies, where those big mechanical dinosaurs of the “Evil Empire” were making their way across a similar landscape.  Our vans were the high-speed “dinosaurs,” kicking up some dust behind them, traveling quickly but seemingly not moving at all. The valley and surrounding mountains were so large that they didn’t seem to move much with respect to our movement.
     Exiting the vans and experiencing this vast wasteland was even more amazing.  Others had been here before, as evidenced by the occasional tire tracks, often in “doughnut” shapes, clearly by those having fun with their own vehicles.  It was almost noon-time, the sun high in the sky, at the beginning of June in the arid Basin and Range.  With a hat and sunscreen, though, it wasn’t much of a concern.  I realized, though, that the vans were our only lifelines, we were literally quite far from civilization (though you could see an occasional car on the road in the distance from where we came).  Looking around at this desolate space, I imagined that the surface of Mars must appear somewhat similar to this.  The students seemed to get a kick out of the whole thing, too, spreading out from their vans, roaming around a bit and gazing off into the distance.  Some of us noticed that we could see “water” on the horizon, and a few students actually thought the lake still held some water.  They were amazed when they learned that it was one of the classic mirages that you hear about in the western movies.  It truly did look like water, but alas it was only an optical illusion, caused by the ground radiating heat into the lower atmosphere.  It was easy to understand after seeing this how people in the desert searching for water a century ago could be literally tricked to believing that water lay just out at the horizon.
     Another reason we came here was so Lee could fly three of his impressive model rockets.  These were no “Estes” models that 12-year olds build and fly a couple hundred feet.  Lee is a trained, and licensed, “rocketeer,” or “rocket man,” and his rocket engines use the same fuel as used in the Space Shuttle.  He also explained that he had to gain clearance a day or two in advance to let the proper authorities know that he would be flying these things into the lower atmosphere, about a half-mile high.  Deciding to use my zoom lens from far away for some different perspectives, I attempted to get a photo of the class watching the launches and the rockets taking off themselves.  I decided to walk quite a distance from the vans so the pictures would convey the wide-open spaces of the playa, and I could “zoom in” with my camera.  We had fun with the rockets.  The first went off without a hitch, and in the calm, clear skies it was easy to visually follow the rocket all the way up and down.  The second launch attempt was more adventurous.  One student was given the “button” to launch the rocket, and from my position far away from the group, I could barely hear the count-down.  After the “10-9-8…3-2-1”, nothing happened.  I was poised with my zoom lens and ready to snap the photo when the rocket left the pad.  But it didn’t leave.  It just sat there.  Three more tries, no rocket flight.  Lee went up to the rocket to inspect the situation, and just as he approached the rocket, WOOSH!  It took off on its own, and I figured that was not supposed to happen.  The students went nuts, making sure that their favorite “rocketeer” had not been injured.  Lee was fine, but only after a few of us had taken some lucky photos of the whole incident.  One student had gone off into the distance, just as I had done, to get some photos of his own from a different angle.  When we all met back at the launch site, he and I exchanged stories about the photos we had taken.  He excitedly claimed that, as the rocket surprisingly shot up, “I almost peed in my pants”.  Between the both of us, we apparently had gotten the episode on film, and we were curious to see what would develop once back home.  Eventually we learned that another student had also photographed the surprise launch, and now that I’ve seen it, his is the best one of all.  As I write this, there is a full-sized poster of his photo on Lee’s office door, showing a rocket lifting off in the background and Lee running like mad away from the launch pad.  It really reminds one of the famed V-2 Rocket tests here in the Southwest after World War II, where the "scientists" simply pushed buttons to launch these captured German rockets to see how they would behave.  Video exists on which these scientists are shown running like the wind away from the launch pad as the V-2 lifts off.  In any case, I’m sure the photo on Lee's door could win some award for something, though I don’t know what.
     While photographing from afar, and as the students chased down the returning rockets, the isolation and desolation of this place really sank in.  The air was eerily still, and it was only getting hotter.  I imagined what it would be like standing there, without vans, without students, or “rocket men” in the near distance.  I decided that I really wouldn’t want to try.  For now though, it was quite amazing.  I returned soon to the van to retrieve my cold water, grateful that the group and the vans themselves were not mirages as well.  Unlike the contrived resort dubbed the "Mirage" along the Vegas Strip, we had seen the real thing one day later.  If nothing else, this one was certainly a less expensive experience!  Not surprisingly, the room service and afternoon tea didn’t show up on time.

From top to bottom: 1) Meadview Overlook, above Pearce Ferry. 2) Red Lake Playa. 3) Frisbee game on the Playa. 4) Lee prepares for launch. 5) Perfect liftoff! NASA would be proud. 6) Surprise Launch! Lee Dexter in retreat.  7) Closeup of the mislaunch.  Lee survives to fly a third rocket that day.