In February 2004, I was sent to Flagstaff, AZ on a case. Because I had to stay there over a weekend, I twisted David's arm into flying out to join me. We were both glad he did. We drove to the south rim of the Grand Canyon, which is every bit as breathtaking as it looks in pictures. On the way, we discovered an old cinder cone called Red Mountain, and hiked into the cone, leaving the first human footprints in snow that had falled three days earlier. I think we can be forgiven for thinking of Red Mountain as "ours."