Edges of the Storm

Stopping at a truck stop in Albuquerque to take a shower, I was shocked at the price: $12.

Still I paid it.

The last time I took a shower was five days ago at the campground in New Castle, Colorado. It was time…no matter the cost.

I parked for the night at the Isleta Casino just south of Albuquerque. The weather showed that by Monday afternoon, the storm would be upon Albuquerque with temperatures dropping below freezing. Providing I got out of the truck- and RV- filled parking lot by around ten, I should be able to keep the pipes beneath the RV from freezing.

As I went to bed, the wind whistled through the cracks around the edges of the windows, gently rocking the RV from side to side.

The wind still shook the RV as I opened my eyes to the dark of night.

Was it too early to get up?

Reaching for my phone on the bed next to me, I felt for the familiar cool hard rectangle amid the small pile of clothes which I still had to put away. I needed time to organize my living space. The bedroom and office cabinets desperately needed help.

Inwardly, I groaned. It was too early for this thinking; I’d been having the most pleasant dream. Unfortunately, once my mind became attached to a problem—something to fix, something to fret—I knew sleep was lost. Now, I’d be up for a bit.

The phone showed two.

Two A. M.

Middle of the night.

I wondered about the cold up north and opened the weather app. Buena Vista’s current temperature hovered around six with windchills at minus seven.

I flipped the app to show Albuquerque.

Thirty-two!

That was a forty-degree plunge since I last checked the temperature at sunset. Quickly, I checked the ten-day and hourly readings. I gathered information from the moving precipitation maps. It seemed the edges of the winter storm sat upon Albuquerque. I’d be riding with the storm all day tomorrow because it appeared the storm would be pushing further south than meteorologists had predicted, possibly even to El Paso.

This would mean I’d have to face a fear: those two long arroyo crossings with the warning signs and windsocks. Last year, I’d been told about the dangerous New Mexico winds. In my imagination, I saw the focused force of wind in those canyons, gusting at the sides of big rigs and RVs.

I prayed for a safe crossing in the old RV.