It rained a lot on Needles Highway yesterday, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from doing my job. I had planned to walk Cathedral Spires Trail and collect GPS points for the app we’re helping develop, and so by golly, I wasn’t going to let a little sprinkle stop me.
I drove all the way to the trail head (which takes about half an hour if you’re coming from the office and happen to get behind a slow caravan of cars that stop every time they see a bird) and parked in the lot. It was sprinkling still, so I reached back to get my coat – only to realize that I had forgotten it.
But no matter! I am resilient! I am young! I can do this!
So, I got out in my work shorts and button-up collared shirt and proceeded to walk the trail. It wasn’t too bad at first; it was merely misty out and it made everything look green, luscious and beautiful. But then it started to rain a little harder. And harder. And harder.
I knew I was trapped because I had already walked about a mile down the trail and there was no turning back. I tried to take cover under a pathetic little Aspen tree, but it didn’t do much good. It was starting to look like I had entered a wet t-shirt contest and my hair so wet it was dripping, so I knew it was time to move.
And speaking of my hair, my friends at the park and I had dyed it a nice auburn red the night before. If you’re a girl reading this, you know that means I was in danger of having rivers of blood-colored rain flowing down my face like Carrie if I had missed any of the excess dye on my skull when I washed my hair the night before. And I always miss excess dye.
Not wanting to terrify any tourists, I took off running toward a group of giant rocks. They were slightly slanted, so I thought I might be able to hole up against one and stay dry. I was right; there was a wide sliver between two rocks where I was able to wait out the rain.
As I sat there and examined the beauty around me, I heard a faint whistle in the distance. I couldn’t believe my ears, and I shook it off.
But then it happened again.
Somebody in the park was doing the Hunger Games whistle repeatedly, and it was epic.
For those of you who don’t know, the Hunger Games are a series of young adult books about kids killing each other that got made into movies. In that process, a whistle-theme was developed, and it sounds like this:
It’s haunting, slow, simple, and beautiful – and it was perfect for that moment as I sat wedged between two enormous rock formations. I felt like I was in Ireland or Scotland and the moors were giving off mist in the distance as the rain fell and the fairies danced just out of sight.
This park’s beauty just takes you by surprise sometimes, and it’s magical.