Free Turds in the Punch Bowl (A Story of No Ordinary Friendship) by Jen Ashton

the Las Vegas basin is a rare treat and we knew opportunity when it knocked.
    One of Joe’s creative talents lies behind the lens of a camera. He is always looking for something to shoot. Being a former model, I am always looking for someone to shoot me; for fun. I just like the creative process anymore, and this day happened to bring both our minds together.
    “Do you think the waterfall is still there?” Joe inquired.
    “Probably,” I answered. “It just rained yesterday. Why?”
    “I was thinking we could do a bikini shoot today.”
    I was sold. We didn’t have anything else important going on and I was always up for an adventure. We loaded up the car with a few backpacks and some camera gear, and headed out to Red Rock Canyon. We had been told to pass the park entrance and pull along the back road near a gully. The waterfall was just down the path. It seemed simple enough, so it never occurred to us to take a scout or map.
    We followed the verbal directions as best we could remember. After all, it had been two months since we heard about it and neither of us have the best memory; especially since I try my best to erase some of the things engrained in mine. It was mid afternoon and the sun was high when we parked. There was a dry river bed that let out near the road and we assumed it was the path. We strapped on our backpacks, grabbed some bottled waters and trekked toward the mountain. I must also mention that I was wearing nothing but a bikini and tennis shoes. Joe was shirtless, wearing khaki shorts and flip flops. We made for a pretty snazzy hiking duo.
    “Do you think the waterfall is by those trees?” Joe asked, pointing to a green tree line in the distance. “Looks like a river runs through there.”
    I couldn’t argue with his logic. The only greenery in the whole valley surrounding us was where he was pointing. I also knew that meant water, so we veered right and headed straight toward it.
    “Onward!” I shouted, enthusiastically.
    It’s a funny thing about the desert. Everything looks smaller when you’re in your car. It’s not until you actually set out across the landscape that you realize how vast and big it really is. And how small you are. We must’ve hiked for over an hour through dirt, rocks and Joshua trees before we reached the greenbelt. And even as we approached, it seemed the elusive river was still moving further away.
    “Is this it?” I asked, standing over a trickling creek that ran into a two-inch deep pond that had more algae than water.
    “No. It can’t be,” Joe insisted. “I bet if we follow this creek up a little, it will lead us to the waterfall. Come on!”
    I don’t know why I ever trust Joe. All of his great ideas have landed me in hot water or made for more trouble than I ever intended to get in. Like the time he had the brilliant idea to mimic Myspace and create MidgetSpace.com, a big place for little people. It was all fun and games until we received a cease and desist letter in the mail from the Little People of America. Or like the time Joe thought it would be a blast to rent waverunners for a trip to Catalina. The trip there was smooth, but it wasn’t so cool to get rescued by the Coast Guard on our way back. His ideas always sound fun in theory, but in hindsight, it’s clear we never really think the whole thing through. This particular trip up the canyon to follow some trickling water didn’t end up much different.
    We walked along the creek for an hour or so before the terrain got rocky and began a steep ascent. We looked up and found ourselves in the mouth of the canyon. There had to be more water up ahead, so we pressed on. We finally came to opening in the rocks where a pool of water was filling the gap. It was a decent size, but still not big enough for a swim or a shoot, like our friends had mentioned. Though we were hot, parched and exhausted from walking with our gear, we were bound and determined to find that damn waterfall! Looking back, I wish