Saturday morning, after some fortifying oatmeal, we set off for a wee bit of a family hike. It was decided that we would head for Jarvis Wash, since we’ve gone across it to hike elsewhere, but never followed it to see where it would lead before. Also, being nice and flat, it was conducive to the limited abilities of Her Majesty Queen Nettie.
What we did not factor into our decision making process, was that when the weather says “High Winds” up in the high desert, they ain’t whistlin’ Dixie. What we further could not have foreseen was that “high winds” combined with walking in a soft, sandy wash the size of a highway would basically amount to hiking inside a haboob.
After we’d gotten thoroughly sick of the sand in our ears, noses, eyes, and teeth, we climbed up out of the wash on the south side and hiked around through the hills, till we realized we were getting nowhere fast and continually being stymied by a fence. So we had to go back down and make our way across to the north side (which was the side of the wash on which we had parked), took a brief detour to see an interesting rock outcropping, and then began to head back west toward the car. The ups and downs through those hills were killing to begin with, let alone against the wind, and I was about done in with it, so Paul took Megan with him and double-timed it back to the car, while the rest of the kids and I set off over the flats to find the main road, where Paul would pick us up. I tell you, I truly understand the meaning of “wandering in the desert” after that hike… Laurent went ahead with Geneva to scout the way, while Jacob valiantly tried to help me, even holding my hand to give me some steadying help from time to time. When Paul and Megan finally arrived with the van at the break in the fence that we’d found, the kids were there already, and I was staggering through the brush, teetering from side to side, willing myself each slow, aching step, fighting the wind just to stay vertical. Paul jumped out and gallantly ran to assist me, and I was never so thankful for his arm.
After that excursion, I knew for certain that I would be needing to spend some money on getting my camera professionally cleaned.
And the most remarkable thing about that hike, to my way of thinking, was that Jacob’s very stylish fedora only blew off once.
