River Relief

My girlfriend, Lisa and I decided to beat the July Arizona heat by taking a dip in a nearby river.

We tried to coordinate our arrival down to the minute, because neither of us wanted to wait around air frying like yesterday's leftovers. I arrived just a hot minute before her – and I do mean HOT.

Under normal circumstances, we would hug when greeting, like long, lost sisters, but I was sweating in places I didn't even know I could sweat. "Why is that wet? Oh, yeah, it's a sauna out... well everywhere."

We had to walk the equivalent of two blocks from the parking lot to the swimming hole. About halfway there, my flip flop broke and ended up a few steps behind me. I stood like a flamingo waiting for Lisa to come to my rescue. That's why, in the desert, there's security in numbers. If I had been alone, even my title as the second grade hopscotch champion may not have helped – and I still have skills. Lucky easy fix, and we were back on our way.

When we got to the water, we weren't surprised to find a dozen or so people with the same idea. Some were floating, some were launching into the water from a rope swing, some were under trees on towels, taking a break.

Not wanting to become a steamed lobster, I got out my sunscreen. I told Lisa, "You do me and I'll do you." I handed her the bottle. She squeezed. Nothing happened. She squeezed harder. The cap exploded off, spraying gunk all over my face. Lisa chortled, "It looks like a seagull had explosive diarrhea all over you!"

I started throwing globs of white goo at her. I got her right in the chest with the first throw. Then, she ducked and I nearly hit a father. I stopped the slimy assault. Lisa's laughter at my expense came to a screeching halt when she tried to sit on a boulder to remove her sandals. Big mistake. She jumped up like an airborne missile, shrieking, "I burned my butt!"

Several eyes were on her, including kids. One small boy "whispered" loud enough for all to hear, "Mommy, she said 'butt!'"

Lisa grimaced, "Er, bottom. I meant to say bottom. Sorry." My turn to laugh at her.

When were finally sufficiently slathered, we rushed to the shallow, feet burning with every step. It was time for the rock gauntlet. My feet had a way of finding every sharp stone in every body of water I had ever been to. It never takes me long to give up and get flat to float in the shallow water.

We had blessed relief from the heat for an amazing hour or so. Then, it was time to leave for fear of becoming beyond well done.

From experience, we knew to keep our sandals fairly close. One of Lisa's went missing. I looked everywhere while she stayed in the shallow. "Butt boy" said, "If you're looking for a blue sandal, I saw it float away." He pointed to the mini rapids.

No! Now, Lisa was going to have to lean on me and hop two blocks back to her car. By the time we got there, we were both hotter than when we arrived.

Since I live closest, she came to my house and we both changed, having decided to eat out for lunch.

Of course, the air conditioning in the restaurant was set low. It was like walking into a refrigerator. Great for a while, but then, it started to feel like winter. Lisa and I actually wished we had brought more clothing. When we got back outside, we were relieved for about 1.6 seconds. Then, we were hot yet again. Seriously? From one extreme to another.

Arizona is complicated in the summer.