by Debbie Wiens

Created on: May 20, 2008

A Dry Heat

"Yes, it's hot here in the summer, but it's a dry heat!" That was the standing remark from those Desert Rats that frequented or called their home such places as Phoenix, Tombstone, Las Vegas, or Santa Fe. What a CROCK!

Now, please understand, I grew up in the Oregon, the Greater Northwest, in a little town between Portland and Salem. Very green, very wet, NOT very hot. When it hit the hundreds, we all thought we might die, but they were most often the low 100s, and not for too many days in succession.

At the age of 21 I was moved by my husband to Las Vegas, Nevada. He had family there, and the construction business was really booming in 1990, and he was a framer. I remember our first visit to Las Vegas just prior to making the move. It was June, I believe, and it was HOT. We took advantage of a friend's pool and went for a swim. It felt good and chilly, so I thought I would check the thermometer hanging by the ladder. Surely this had to be a mistake! The chilly water that I was submerged in read a startling 94 degrees! I am sorry, but 94 degree water should not feel chilly! What had I gotten myself into?

But the move was already in the works, so move we did. And for the first number of years that I lived there I either drove a car without air conditioning, or had no car to drive at all. The temperatures would reach 121 degrees in the midst of summer, and would "cool off" to around 107 at night. When first there, I would pray for wind, but discovered that in 112 degrees, wind only served to become a sand blaster - - so I stopped that prayer! Walking on the asphalt in tennis shoes was risky business also, since if you stood still too long, the soles would melt slightly. That went for car tires as well, causing you to "screech" around corners at 15 miles per hour.

I can recall an incident when I was walking across a parking lot of the office building I worked at. I turned my head slightly and felt what must have been some kind of bug stinging my neck it was excruciating. I grabbed at my neck, tilting my head to that side, only to feel the same horrible sensation on the other side of my neck. I jumped, yelped, and grabbed the other side of my neck tilting my head the other way, at which time I felt the same sting on the back of my hand on the first side. It was then that I realized what I was feeling was the metal dangling leaf of my earring that had been transformed by the 100 plus degrees into a molten hot branding iron! I must have been quite a site

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