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Updated: May 17, 2025
From observations made at the time, and since confirmed, I have no doubt that Colonel Reid's theory of storms's a correct one, viz., that all wind-storms move in a circular direction, and the nearer the centre the more violent the force of the wind.
Although, out on the plain, there was a scarcely perceptible breeze, we had to literally fight our way against the terrific gusts that swept through this narrow gorge. Fortunately, it was a fine day, but the fine powdery snow whirled up and cut into our eyes and faces, and made travelling very unpleasant. These violent wind-storms have never been satisfactorily accounted for.
I have oftentimes feasted on the beauty of these noble trees when they were towering in all their winter grandeur, laden with snow one mass of bloom; in summer, too, when the brown, staminate clusters hang thick among the shimmering needles, and the big purple burs are ripening in the mellow light; but it is during cloudless wind-storms that these colossal pines are most impressively beautiful.
Bad trails, canyons to head, steep climbs, wind-storms, thunder and lightning, rain, mountain-lions and wildcats." "Very well, I am decided. Stewart, of course you will take charge? I don't believe I Stewart, isn't there something more you could tell me why you think, why you know my own personal liberty is in peril?" "Yes. But do not ask me what it is.
There was no swaying, waving or swirling as in wind-storms, but quick, quivering jerks, and at times the heavy tasseled branches moved as if they had all been pressed down against the trunk and suddenly let go, to spring up and vibrate until they came to rest again. Only the owls seemed to be undisturbed.
The day was intensely pure, one of those incomparable bits of California winter, warm and balmy and full of white sparkling sunshine, redolent of all the purest influences of the spring, and at the same time enlivened with one of the most bracing wind-storms conceivable. Instead of camping out, as I usually do, I then chanced to be stopping at the house of a friend.
It is the rainy season in New Mexico, with its sporadic showers, its peculiar sunlight, moments of scorching heat, and blasts of cool winds, with thunder overhead. To the right and left rain falls in streaks, but without sultriness, and with no danger from violent wind-storms or cyclones. We are in the beginning of the month of September.
The day was intensely pure: one of those incomparable bits of California winter, warm and balmy and full of white sparkling sunshine, redolent of all the purest influences of the spring, and at the same time enlivened with one of the most bracing wind-storms conceivable. Instead of camping out, as I usually do, I then chanced to be stopping at the house of a friend.
At Kuching, during the last thirty years, the average yearly rainfall has been 160 inches, the maximum 225, and the minimum 102 inches; the maximum monthly fall recorded was 69 inches, and the minimum .66, and the greatest rainfall recorded in one day was 15 inches. Thunder-storms are frequent and severe, but wind-storms are not commonly of any great violence.
Read John Muir's account in his Mountains of California and see how he reveled in wind-storms, and even climbed into a tree and clung to its top "like a bobolink on a reed" in order to enjoy a storm to the full. Immediately at our feet lie the various mazes of canyons and ravines that make the diverse forks of the American River.
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