“The hot air was hurting my face”
Over dinner tonight Emily described our Desert Inferno Hike (118 F / 47 C) with the words “the hot air was hurting my face.” I thought this a worthwhile and interesting observation to share, as it brought back a memory I had nearly forgotten. A recollection of being far from safety in identical conditions, trudging alone through the sand with hands swollen like mittens, mouth dry as paper and a canteen deserted of hope. Emily’s experience was brief, abrupt and over before any dire consequences could be discovered. Yet perhaps now she’ll carry some caution for the potential danger of some natural settings, and empathy for those who fail to find sanctuary when reason or luck fall short.
From the original archive
First published on softypapa.wordpress.com on June 7, 2016. Original text, photographs, links, and embedded media preserved.
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