Bored at this Las Vegas event last week, I got in the car and drove out to "Red Rock Canyon" - on the outskirts of town. I could see the canyon from my hotel room - about 30 miles away - and just needed to see it up close (and, Vegas is not a good place - on many levels - you're better off avoiding this pit if you can - head for the hills).
So I'm moving in my rented VW at about 85 mph and spot this guy up ahead. He was moving a lot slower, but I didn't trust him to not turn up the speed just as I was passing. I slowed down and stopped sharply just in front of this masterpiece of creation.
Elvis - the Turtle from Vegas.
I spent the next 30 minutes trying to convice Elvis to reconsider his journey across the road. I was worried about him, and the speeding cars, and road-kill, and vultures. It occured to me that Elvis was headed west, out of town, like me. And we bonded. We talked about life and death, God and eternity. He argued with me about purpose and existence. At one point it was 'turtles all the way down'. He wanted to know why he was a turtle and I wasn't - and I realized that he wasn't jealous, he felt pity for me. He loved being a turtle, and would have it no other way. He loved the outdoors, slept under the stars, loved to eat, had a lot of girl turtle friends and a big family. He felt little to no stress, unless a stranger like me stopped to talk.
Turtles are smart.
All the same, I finally convinced Elivs to turn around and head back toward town where he'd be safer. Now, I regret it - he knew better than me. Of course, I'm sure once I was over the hill, he headed back over the road and is living large in Red Rock Canyon, where it's safe.
