As the light begins to fade, you find yourself on top of a cliff. It’s a desert cliff, the kind with a wind-swept top, the red rock still warm from the afternoon sun. Beneath your feet, the surface feels more like sand than stone. The air is dry and cool, and the wind stings your nose and leaves grit in the back of your throat. A handful of feet away from where you stand, the land drops off, sheer, ending in a deep blue pool that shimmers with the last of the light. A river, branching out in two directions and winding sluggishly downhill, feeds the pool. It looks to you like a 1,000 foot drop, but you realize it’s probably less.