After leaving Phoenix, Arizona, and its suffocating temperatures we passed through a forest of cacti. As we continued North, we experienced the cool air of Flagstaff. Further North, we faced a stretch of red desert as we crossed through the West side of the Navajo Nation. As we returned to the area our vehicle had over headed a couple days ago, a red cloud was rising from the dust of the earth. One can expect many things from the Open Road, but she is a mysterious mistress with her own surprises.

We drove alongside this red cloud for some time. However, the road turns, and the wind shifts. Driving through the sandstorm was unavoidable. Some vehicles had emerged from the cloud showing no signs of harm. I thought it wouldn’t be an issue. Soon we were surrounded by walls of red sand and wind. Sheets of red sand blocked our vision as they danced across black roads. The read cloud would begin to disperse only for us to be pelted with rain, water mixing with the dust on the windshield. The rain would stop only to be once again surrounded by red sands. The sands would part for it to rain again. Rain tends to amplify what you smell. The aroma of stale dust seeped in from the closed windows. Red sand once again shrouded up.

The mixture of the rain and sandstorm gave a reverent respect for the experience. It made me wonder how often the locals experienced storms like this. If by some chance I found myself in some forgotten world, I wouldn’t be surprised if this act of nature would summon the gateway.

The plateau we had fought to climb just a couple days prior was now our passage out of the storm. We once again found ourselves in Page, AZ, with another interesting experience behind us.