Before the days of Gore-Tex, we donned plastic rain jackets that didn’t ‘breathe’. After an hour of pedaling our clothes were drenched in sweat.
A Belgian beer.
“Hey… Everything’s wet, we’re underwater!”
“How can that be, we’re in the middle of the desert?”
In our early morning stupor, it took a while to sink in what had happened.
Earlier that day we rolled into Mesquite, Nevada and decided to camp in the city park.
Now we knew how they maintained the park’s lush green field. It had an automatic watering system and we had set up our tent over one of the sprinkler heads.