They say that the name “Huachuca” means “thunder mountain,” and this most beautiful of the border ranges lives up to its name and then some this time of year.
The monsoon rains come almost every afternoon, brief and powerful, flooding the washes and pushing soil and rocks onto roads.
The storms announce themselves from a distance with some of the most awesome thunder I’ve ever heard.
It begins as a rolling rumble from afar, then cracks and snaps before descending into the canyons, where it echoes from the high steep cliffs, bouncing back and forth between the walls until the thunder doesn’t so much sound as feel, less a sonic phenomenon than a solid mass that tumbles down the canyon to submerse anyone fortunate enough to be abroad in it.
It’s exhilarating and frightening all at once.
As the sublime should be.