Our phones all vibrated simultaneously as emergency alerts warning of flash flooding in the area were sent out repeatedly.
Sitting at the top of a large rock high above the desert floor, pretty far from sober, we quietly took in the impressive lightening storm that was raining down on the desert immediately surrounding us. Although the wind was building, and dark menacing clouds were beginning to blow in on top of us, so far we seemed to be in one of the only patches of decent weather.
As the first raindrops finally began to fall on us, we decided we better make a hasty retreat back to the camp. Our tents were only half set up, and Rob scrambled to put a fly on his tent while Mike hunkered down in a shallow cave afraid to try to set up his ultra-lite tent for fear that it would blow away.
An hour later I lay in my tent as a river flowed under it threatening to wash it away. Mike's sleeping pad danced around in the air 60 or 70 feet over our heads after being ripped out of his hands by the wind, while Mike himself stood in the middle of the torrent afraid to take shelter in the shallow cave for fear of lightening. Rob sat with his tent balled up under his arms uselessly - after running to rescue it before it washed away. Our bikes had hastily been moved to higher ground, for fear that they would sail away down the rapids that had formed on the road they were parked on.
All in all it was a long, wet, exciting night that ended with Mike making a run for it into town to check into a motel, and Rob and I wet and tired walking through the wreckage trying to reclaim lost items.
After reconvening in the morning and drying out our stuff, we hastily rode into town to check into a motel, and drop our motorcycles off at the shop for a tire change.