Quest to the Southwest - Chapter Seven - Rain gear

Martha raced to the car as huge drops splatted atop her head and shoulders. Where had those dark clouds come from? Just moments before she had slowly walked on the packed red dirt trail, examining rocks and avoiding the needle adorned plants. She had felt the sun on her shoulders, and had even stopped for a drink of water, the warmth of the desert bringing on thirst. There hadn't been wind or any other warning that the storm was about to hit. Just like my life. The signs were probably there, but I didn't pay any attention to them. She took time to stop and beat the red clay off the bottom of her shoes, quickly pulling her feet inside the car and leaning out the door slapping her shoes together and sending clumps of red mud everywhere, including into the car and all over her lap. She leaned out a little farther for the next clap, poking her hands and shoes out into the rain. Probably should have brought a second pair of shoes with her today, but as usual, her planning seemed to be lacking.

Martha drove slowly down the gravel road, pulling to the side, letting cars pass, as the other hikers took protection from the storm in their cars, rushing to leave the park. She followed the road around the short loop, looking up at the red canyon walls through the moon roof of the car. A loud boom of thunder shook the car, dark sky lighting up just seconds before the kaboom. She felt so exposed out here on the desert. Pulling into the trail head parking lot, she swung the car around so that she had a full view of the storm. Am I supposed to stay in the car during the lightning? Martha couldn't remember the safety warnings. As the clouds exploded with rain just after this thought, the deluge immediately filling the parking lot with six inches of water, the decision NOT to get out was easily made. Martha pulled out her camera and tried to take pictures of the incredible lightning. Problem was she really needed to open the window to do this and now the rain and wind made that impossible. As the rain turned to hail she lay the camera to one side and decided to just enjoy the storm. It was over in a matter of minutes. She watched the black sky and brilliant streaks of lightning move around her to the left, now covering the area she had thought to hike next. It seemed like only seconds after the clouds had moved that the sky was blue once more.

Martha got out of the car to look at the trail. Maybe she could hike it now. She walked to the edge of the parking lot, to the break in the fence which marked the start of the trail. Water three inches deep flowed down the trail. No hiking here. She looked at the picnic area which was paved with round white stones, and seemed to be free of water. Walking across the area she approached the stream bed, which moments before had held a six inch trickle of water. Three feet of water rushed down the mini canyon, the edges crumbling into the fast moving stream. I wonder how the people on the other side are going to get back? Martha could see where the trail cut down into the gully for a crossing, now filled to the banks with water. She watched for a while and then returned to her car. She could see sun shining over Bryce Canyon now, perhaps it was time to return and see the park. As she drove out of the parking lot, she took one last look into the stream bed. Amazing! It was near empty again, now a ten inch river, just snaking down the center of the bed. This was what a flash flood was all about. At least the hikers could get back to the parking lot again.

Martha drove slowly back down the gravel road, turning on to the pavement, but maintaining a crawl. There were no other cars and she wanted to study each gully and stream bed she passed. She looked for signs of destruction from the storm that had passed so quickly. She saw a field which was completly filled with water, the range cattle standing up on tiny bumps, chomping away at what grass they could reach. As she came around a curve in the road she heard the bawling of a cow. The red cow stood, blocking the road, staring down into the creek bed. The other cows all had calves with them. Had this one lost her baby in the storm? Martha pulled

her car to the side of the road and peered down. She couldn't see over the bank. The red cow stood in the road, looking from Martha to the spot down the embankment. Moo, moo. She continued to call and began to pace up and down the edge of the road. Martha pulled the car forward and off to the side, out of the line of traffic as much as possible. As she opened her door to get out of the car she considered what she knew about cattle. They were defensive of their young, like bears and things. How could she help even if the calf was over the bank? The temptation to drive on was great. There had been no cars, no rangers, no houses for miles. What if Martha was hurt in the process of trying to help? Just as Martha made the decision to slip out of the car and check out the situation, a group of three cows and two calves scrambled up over the edge of the bank and onto the road. Big Red seemed satisfied now, and the cows sauntered off up the road, following her as she led the group on up the hill.