Respect Rushing Water

It didn't look like much.

The water was running down a grass-like canal along Hayden Road in Scottsdale, Arizona that was designed to handle water runoff during the monsoon season.

I was 18 yrs old and trying to cross the make-shift stream in my '71 Mustang.

Other cars, even trucks, were turning around and heading back up the street to find a bridge to cross over, but I was determined to make it across the flowing water.

It didn't look deep.

It didn't look treacherous.

I'm in a car that weighed several thousand pounds.

I was wrong.

The water was deeper than I thought and moving faster than I imagined.

As I started to cross, I didn't even get halfway when I realized the water was at the base of my door.

Then, I felt my the car start to move sideways.

A terrifying feeling when reality slaps you in the face.

The car was being picked up and started moving sideways as I threw the car in reverse and hit the gas.

I created a geyser of water over the top of the car, but was still traveling sideways.

Right before I left the roadway, the back of the car hit the sidewalk just enough for my tires to catch a little.

I gunned it and managed to fishtail my way, in reverse, back onto dry ground.

I sat there for a good 4-or-5 minutes staring at the rushing water.

All the usual emotions racing through my mind and body; fear, anger and stupidity.

An Arizona monsoon is a bizarre occurrence.

Usually nestled in July and August, it's like a warm shower filled with lightning and thunder that dumps a ton of rain on a desert that's unable to absorb it.

The resulting floods have buried towns in mud and debris, much like the aftermath were seeing in the communities around Lake Isabella.

Whether it's the mountains, desert or even downtown Bakersfield when people try to cross flooded underpasses, please try to have a little more respect for rushing water.

Cause it has no respect for you.