TRAVEL: Venture beyond Nevada's neon-bright oasis and you'll discover the gambling capital is fringed by natural treasures.

BEFORE Las Vegas there was desert and rock. Then, just over 100 years ago, a small piece of arid land was divided into 1200 lots and Vegas was born. Roulette, faux palaces and Wayne Newton followed.

But Vegas needn't be just about bright lights and heaving buffets. Beyond its electrical nova, the desert and the rock remain. Probe at the city's edges and you'll still find its natural treasures.

Head west through the Vegas mall sprawl and the city ends at the coloured bands of the SpringMountains, where an orange stripe of rock seems to froth from the sandy earth. When the dinosaurs roamed, these rocks were classic red sand dunes, but have now petrified into Aztec sandstone patterned like ice-cream swirls. Known as Red Rock Canyon, the area is one of only 14 designated national conservation areas in the US.

I journeyed to Red Rock Canyon on a threatening Sunday morning, beneath skies as dark as Vegas was bright. Occasional stray sunbeams illuminated the rock, the reflected light more beautiful than any of the neon I'd just left behind. That Las Vegas was just a ridge away suddenly seemed improbable.

Red Rock Canyon's spine is its 20km scenic drive, which winds through the Joshua trees and other yuccas that fill the desert floor. It's a drive of such beauty that the canyon is almost always filled with people, although the bulk of the visitors are locals.

Red Rock is Vegas' outdoor recreation area of choice, and this day cyclists hurtled around the scenic drive while joggers pounded the walking tracks. The canyon's sandstone is also famed among climbers, who have put up about 1700 routes.

For a visitor intent on discovering the Nevada desert, Red Rock Canyon is an excellent introduction. But wait, there's more - such as the Valley of Fire, about 80km to the city's north-east.

Once a favourite stop for overland travellers (the first all-weather road in the US passed through it) it's now been relegated to little more than a curiosity. I entered the Valley of Fire between hillsides that spilled down like melted wax. Already there was a sense of the surreal, only enforced by the sight of the valley within. In the grey desert, it looked like a light turned on in darkness.

Taking its name from the exuberant colours of its flame-orange rocks, which resemble giant shards of terracotta, the Valley of Fire was a repeat of Red Rock Canyon, except brighter and its features more numerous.

It was at dawn, as the sun rose over nearby Lake Mead, that the flame of Nevada's oldest state park was truly lit, revealing an assortment of formations -precariously balanced rocks, tiny arches and sandstone mounds like shrunken Bungle Bungles.

There were rocks named after various creatures never seen here: Elephant Rock, Cobra Rock, Duck Rock, Beehives. Closest to Vegas'heart, there was also a rock named Grand Piano.

As I stood among the Beehives watching this most spectacular of sunrises, a trio of bighorn sheep clattered about the rocks. I'd hoped also to see other valley residents, such as the desert tortoise and the venomous lizard known as the Gila monster, but they were more reclusive.

What was in abundance were antelope ground squirrels that sat back on their heels like meerkats. They might have been as cute as Disney's Chip and Dale were they not renowned carriers of the bubonic plague.

These squirrels watched from atop rocks as I strolled along the sandy track through Petroglyph Canyon, one of a number of hikes in the park, and one of several sites inscribed with Native American rock art - proof that signage in this desert started long before Las Vegas came along.

FACTFILE

Getting there: Qantas flies to Las Vegas from Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane, from $3370 return. Admission fees apply to the Valley of Fire (about $A7) and Red Rock Canyon (about $A6).