There are two seasons here in the High Desert: Heat and Wind. That's all.
There IS about 2 weeks on either end of the seasons, where they transition from one to another, and the weather's actually pretty nice during those stretches. Unfortunately, that's about all we get in terms of Fall and Spring here, nothing longer. Just long enough to make you think "maybe the desert isn't quite so horrible an environment to live in."
And then the next season starts. Bah.
We've already had the Windy season start this year. Had a MASSIVE wind storm hit back around Halloween to usher in the season this year. And I mean Massive, as in, had there been rain, it would have been classified a tropical storm, almost a hurricane. (For those who didn't grow up on a hurricane-prone coast, hurricane-force winds are 74 mph and up). Living in quality-built on-post housing, you're just expecting the roof to get blown off some days with those storms. Thankfully, though, we're on the leeward side of our building, so not directly being slammed by the wind. Helps a little.
All the wind makes running outside challenging too - becomes an exercise in timing (pun only slightly intended!). You have to try and get out at the lull of the day, so no morning or evening runs if you can help it; the wind's worse as the sun comes up or down. A friend doing a long run over the weekend made it almost 3 miles out of a 10 mile long run, and then the 16 mph gusting drove him indoors to the treadmill.
And on just a personal note, the wind is unsettling. Maybe it's just where I grew up, but strong winds always came with storms. There was something big and dramatic that came after the restlessness of the winds. Closure, I guess, after the restlessness. Now, it's just that ongoing stirred-up feeling. The same way the summer sun is just ongoing-ly oppressive without break, that's how the winds are for stirring me up. There's a quote from a Raymond Chandler short story that I didn't realize how true it was until I got out here:
There IS about 2 weeks on either end of the seasons, where they transition from one to another, and the weather's actually pretty nice during those stretches. Unfortunately, that's about all we get in terms of Fall and Spring here, nothing longer. Just long enough to make you think "maybe the desert isn't quite so horrible an environment to live in."
And then the next season starts. Bah.
We've already had the Windy season start this year. Had a MASSIVE wind storm hit back around Halloween to usher in the season this year. And I mean Massive, as in, had there been rain, it would have been classified a tropical storm, almost a hurricane. (For those who didn't grow up on a hurricane-prone coast, hurricane-force winds are 74 mph and up). Living in quality-built on-post housing, you're just expecting the roof to get blown off some days with those storms. Thankfully, though, we're on the leeward side of our building, so not directly being slammed by the wind. Helps a little.
All the wind makes running outside challenging too - becomes an exercise in timing (pun only slightly intended!). You have to try and get out at the lull of the day, so no morning or evening runs if you can help it; the wind's worse as the sun comes up or down. A friend doing a long run over the weekend made it almost 3 miles out of a 10 mile long run, and then the 16 mph gusting drove him indoors to the treadmill.
And on just a personal note, the wind is unsettling. Maybe it's just where I grew up, but strong winds always came with storms. There was something big and dramatic that came after the restlessness of the winds. Closure, I guess, after the restlessness. Now, it's just that ongoing stirred-up feeling. The same way the summer sun is just ongoing-ly oppressive without break, that's how the winds are for stirring me up. There's a quote from a Raymond Chandler short story that I didn't realize how true it was until I got out here:
There was a desert wind blowing that night. It was one of those hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks. Anything can happen. You can even get a full glass of beer at a cocktail lounge.
- "Red Wind" (short story, 1938), published in Trouble Is My Business (1939)
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