Fifty of us took the mile and half trek up the hill over slick rock and sand, narrow passageways with touchy drop-offs, to sit on the natural amphitheater-like sandstone, all waiting for the big event. Was there going to be the infamous red sunset or not? Most of us had resigned to the “not” side since thick clouds pretty much dominated the western sky. As the sun appeared to set undramatically, people started getting up to take the long trek back down. The “wait ’til the bitter end photographers” stayed put and sure enough for a quick thirty seconds the clouds opened up to allow the sun to blast out it’s magically light display. The “hold-outs” packed their gear and like a grand exodus, we all headed down the hill satisfied that we had gotten what we came for.