Look what the crew and I woke up to this morning!
We’ve been enjoying sunny days in the 80s here in the desert in central Arizona. I’m new to the desert, having grown up and lived my life east of the Mississippi. The juxtaposition of desert sand and mountain snow looks very strange to my eyes!
Boy, did it rain last night!
It’s the kind of rain one would expect in a rainforest, not a desert, at least according to me, being unfamiliar with the ways of the desert. I can tell by the sound from the roof that the drops are large and coming down in sheets.
Spike gets up from his bed and lets me know he wants to sleep with Bridget and me. Spike hates rain because he associates it with thunder and lightning, the terrible monsters of his worst nightmares. (Don’t ask me how I know this. Spike does have awful nightmares. He cries like a person.)
“Okay, baby boy. Jump up.”
He squeezes himself in between me and the wall. Bridget is sweetly obliging, moving down into the crook behind my knees, while I wrap my arms around Spike. Our combined body heat soon makes me throw off the quilt to cool off. There is no thunder or lightning, only strong winds gently rocking our house. Spike sleeps like a baby all night. Bridget, not so much, but then she never sleeps soundly.
I wake up several times, becoming increasingly amazed at the non-stop downpour.
Gee, it’s a good thing we’re on high ground. And the ground is hard-packed so we won’t sink in mud. Hmmm . . . the road. It’s already a challenge to pull a trailer over it. And that wash . . . .
I imagine myself calling the forest rangers to come out with their humongous white pick-ups to pull me out of the wash. Spike’s barking and Bridget’s crying. The wheels of the PTV are in sand up to the middle of the hubs. Raging water appears, sweeps us away. . . .
You know how it goes in the middle of the night.
Okay. When the rain stops tomorrow, I’ll walk down the road and check it out. That wash is about 15-20 feet wide. I won’t walk into the wash. I’ll just see what it looks like. I have enough provisions to wait until the road and the wash dry out. I’ll test it first with the PTV before attempting to pull the BLT across it. Not to worry.
So I go back to sleep.
It’s a cold morning in the 40s and the high for the day is predicted below 60. We’re warm with the Wave3 catalytic heater going. I’m using our second tank of propane. If I’m not wasteful, we should be okay. Warm weather is expected to come back here soon.
It’s kind of fun dealing with these challenges! Really. And you can’t beat the scenery.
P.S. I’ll add an update here later today.Out-of-pocket expenditures: 3/12/12 . . . $51.78 groceries, $13.99 dog food, $3.49 sundries 3/13/12 . . . $2.50 to dump tanks at Escapees’ North Ranch 3/14/12 . . . $0 3/15/12 . . . $0 3/16/12 . . . $0 3/17/12 . . . $0 3/18/12 . . . $0
It’s 1:30 Arizona time . . .
We walk down the road that leads out to the highway. Contrary to my expectation, the road looks good, actually better because sand was washed into some of the deep ruts.
As we hurry home we’re caught in a shower of hail!
I quickly unhook Bridget and Spike from their leashes so they can run home and take cover under the BLT. You should see them go! I try to keep up, but I can’t. I’m laughing too hard at the sight of them and the hail pelting me, as well as the overall happy craziness of the day!