Spat on From a Distance

An eighth of a mile in

Becca and I had one of those experiences this morning where we got sprinkled upon from clouds that were not overhead.  It's so weird to have rain drops fall on you, and when you look up there's nothing there but clear sky.  The wonderful sensation didn't last long, though; neither did the wind, which blew consistently for two-thirds of our hike.  When it stopped it felt as if somebody had turned the furnace up full blast.  We ran into Jimmy on our way back, and stood talking about our recent getaways--ours to the Sacramento Mountains, and his to South Padre Island.

The clouds that spat upon us

A little over a mile in

Shade break

Hot desert

Same scene (above) forty-five minutes later