Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Desert irony

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Sometimes when I ride my bike I think about the desert. 



I think about places with immense heat.  The kind that slows everything down.  My breath, my pace, my sense of time.  All slow to the speed of the prickly pear…



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I think about places where the writing on the wall tells a reasonable person to turn back…





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Where the only available water isn’t fit for bovine consumption…



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But it is an ironic place, the desert.  Sometimes there is so much water it gets in the way…





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Sometimes the water is the way…



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It’s called Wet Beaver Canyon, and yes we made our fair share of ‘wet beaver’ jokes.  But one was less a joke and more a reality... 



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The desert only lets wet beavers get through.





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