It rained here in the Ghosttown for about 90 mins, not quite 2hours. Not hard, just showers, but rain nonetheless. The ground changed colour, from white/yellow to tan/brown. The air was thick, both with weight of the humidity and the scent of
petrichor. The rain and wind combined with cool temperatures, making me think that today’s ride would be cancelled, which indeed it was. Despite and because of the weather, I still felt compelled to explore the desert and witness the changes brought by the rain. I would not be disappointed.
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Chatting online, I was invited to join my friend Rebecca[a fellow Brit] for a hike in The Chisos mountains. Without hesitating I accepted the offer and quickly got my clothes changed for a hike in the rain. Within about 45mins, Rebecca and I had arrived at the parking lot in The Chisos Basin and into a clouded wonderland. Getting out of the car, we quickly put on a few more layers of clothing; the temperature was just above freezing, the wind was blowing hard and the air was still full of moisture.
Confirming which trails were open to the public–there had been an attack recently by a young mountain-lion on a child, the animal still at large–Rebecca and I soon began our two hour hike along the Pinnacles Trail. Within minutes we bumped into Manny–local UPS driver extrodinaire–and his friend Jeff, who had found themselves caught in the cold rain while camping. Rebecca and I continued on, climbing the trail and losing layers of clothes as the temperature quickly rose.
Typically, such a hike should have afforded stunning views of mountains near and far, vistas that stretch for miles. Today, however, the clouds remained very low, almost completely obscurring the mountains from our view. Occasionally, the clouds would part to reveal mountains covered in the brilliant blue-green of life’s vibrancy. The trees around us, no longer fading into the pale desert background, were lush and alive with green leaves, brown/grey/blue trunks and branches. The soil, typically a pale yellow, now full of moisture, was a luscious shade of soft milk-chocolate brown. Fresh scat and tracks from a variety of animals littered the trails, reminding us that they too were profiting from the damp weather. At times the clouds hung motionless around us, at others, we watched as they rolled out from between the mountain passes, as though being poured from some great bucket across the floor. Even the rocks themselves came to life. Every couple of minutes one of us would stop and gawk in awe, causing the other to smile, as though we were children sharing a majical secret; in a way, we were.
Eventually we returned to the car and begand the drive home. As we drove, the temperature fluctuated greatly, from the low thirties to the mid fifties and back to the low forties. So, too, did the clouds and the sun, wrestling with each other for our attention. In the end, it was the clouds who won out, keeping the desert quite under its thick blanket.
Later that night, it rained again, harder this time with even a bit of lightening way off in the distance to the north. Monday morning, thinking the moisture would surely have moved on, I was again astonished to see a thick mist envelope the desert. Again all was silent, all was heavy with moisture, the Ghostown truly feeling haunted, shrowded in its ghostly veil. The desert; it never ceases to amaze and humble with its power and its beauty. Then again, just another day in paradise.
