Stepping off the elevator at Red Rock in Summerlin, Nevada, requires a moment of cognitive dissonance. On the opposite side of the hotel, ten miles to the east, is the infamous Last Vegas strip. The scrub-covered, sandstone formations are a rock-climbing mecca with hiking and mountain biking galore. Beyond the highways are neat rows of cookie-cutter houses, a Spanish-style Lego-land ending abruptly at the foothills of the Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, which glows pale pink in the fast-moving morning sun. Looking down there is the white roof of a shopping mall, an orderly parking garage, a spiraling freeway system.
The view from a luxury suite on the 17 th floor of Red Rock Casino, Resort and Spa, encompasses a vast suburban scene framed by jagged mountains.
