Back to the Arroyo

Today's high will be 110°. Ugh.

This morning at 5:00 a.m. it was already 85° when I met Jeep Girl (Sally) for our morning walk. I've noticed we've both changed from wearing cotton shorts and tops to more ultra-lightweight, high tech running shorts and tank-tops that are also wicking. It only takes a few minutes of brisk walking to work up a decent sweat because we also have some monsoon moisture in the air. We're sopping wet by the time we reach the small wash that leads to my secret arroyo. Today is the day I shared its location.

"I'm going to show you a special place I found for walking or just getting away from almost everyone..." I said, "...I've only seen one other person there, ever." Sally's face lit up, "lead on, Sparky!"

As we approached my arroyo I explained that I found it originally by following a bobcat who, apparently, didn't mind because it seemed to pause occasionally to wait for me. I told her about my walk in the white dress and the old cowboy who suggested I pack a pistol too. She chuckled, "I guess we could wear a small gun belt under a loose smock, but I've never felt in danger out here."

I smiled, thinking, I haven't either. Besides, there are lots of rocks about, just in case.

When we got to the break in the rocks that led down to the arroyo, I stopped cold and gasped, "Holy fuck!" The recent monsoon downpours had flashed the arroyo and left a new bed of sand and gravel at least a foot higher than the old stream bed. It looked new, almost like a highway. And there was not a footprint in it, not even an animal print yet.

The sand and gravel were remarkably stable and packed solid so it was easy to walk on, albeit, a bit noisy as our shoes crunched the new surface. We talked easily, softly, off and on while listening for birds and other critters. The conversation was rambling here and there and came back to the old cowboy. I purposely let it slip that I had taken my dress off and was walking nude that morning to see how Sally would react. She laughed at me and said, "It's a good thing the cowboy was a geezer."

"I like to get naked out-of-doors when I can," I replied, again probing for her reaction, "it feels good. If somebody sees and I sense an issue, I just pop something on. Never had a problem."

She kept walking, looking down, in thought I believe, and finally, softly, I heard, "hmmmm." So I dropped the subject and we walked in silence for some time.

The sun peaked over the mountains to the east and started blasting us as if a furnace door had just opened. We agreed to make for her jeep, its air conditioning, and a power-ade. Soon we were in the jeep letting blasts of cold air chill our sweat-soaked clothes and skin. Sally offered to drop me at my casita instead of me walking home as I usually do. I was tempted, but seriously need to keep up my exercise routine, so I declined. "I'll take you up when it's 95°," I said.

As I was getting out the jeep to head home, she said, "Sparky, is that story of the cowboy, the white dress, true?" 

"Yes, it is," I replied.

"And you've never seen anyone else in the arroyo on your morning hikes?"

"Nope, just desert critters. That far into the park, everyone sticks to the established trails."

A mischievous look spread across her face. "Mind if I try that with you? I mean, no funny stuff."

I looked at my new friend. She seemed as bright and as cheerful as I had ever seen her.

"I don't mind at all, see you tomorrow," I said and turned to walk home.

After Sally started her jeep she drove slowly out of the parking lot, past me with her window open, waving. I shouted happily, "I don't mind funny stuff either."