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---
title: Chocolate Waterfalls
---
Just after my 20th birthday, in the summer of 1973, I decided to take
a course at BYU about desert survival. I spent about 30 days in the
deserts of Southern Utah learning how to live like a desert rat. On one
hot and sultry day, my group was walking through a dusty little canyon
when the skies started to grow very dark and ominous looking. The wind
started to pick up and began to blow sand and dust into our faces. Our
leaders told us that a thunderstorm was coming our way and that it would
be a good idea to try to find some shelter. We found a little overhang
of rock that afforded us just enough room to stand underneath it as the
thunderstorm arrived. It was a nice spot to watch the show that nature
was about to perform for us.
The sky continued to darken as the thunder cell approached. Then the
rain began to fall. First, there were only a few big fat raindrops that
smacked into the rocks and dust, making little plopping noises. Then,
suddenly, the bottom dropped out of the clouds as they dumped their
heavy load of water right on top of us. I was astonished to see our
little canyon come alive with the motion of rushing water. It seemed
like the canyon walls almost instantly erupted with a hundred
waterfalls. These waterfalls were not the beautiful crystal clear
waterfalls you see in the pictures on postcards. These were dark muddy
brown waterfalls. They looked like gushing streams of chocolate milk
falling from every crack and crevice in the canyon walls.
The lightning was as good as any fireworks show I have ever seen. Huge
branching forks of light stabbed the ground with a mighty cracking
noise. The sudden crack was followed immediately by a bellowing boom
that temporarily drowned out all the noise of rushing water.
The gurgling little stream in the creek bed soon became a boiling,
rushing soup of muddy water mixed with all sorts of desert debris. It
was deep enough to soak our hiking boots, but we had no fear of being
swept away by the current. Fortunately, our little overhang kept the
rest of our clothing fairly dry as the thunder cell did its best to
impress us with its prowess. Almost, but not quite as quickly as it
arrived, the thunder cell moved on and the show was over. Within 20
minutes, the skies began to clear and the sun came out again. Everything
returned to normal except for one thing. The water in the creek was
still 6 to 8 inches deep and covered most of the creek bed in the floor
of the canyon. As we picked up our gear and resumed our march, we had to
slosh through the muddy water instead of walk on nice dry sand as
before.
As we marched on, it slowly began to dawn on me that the creek was our
only source of drinking water in the desert. With some measure of alarm,
I realized that my water canteen was nearly empty. I began to imagine
the worst. I imagined that the muddy brown goop that we were presently
walking in was probably contaminated by all sorts of disgusting toxic
stuff like drowned jack rabbits, dead scorpions and coyote poo. I
couldn't bear the thought of drinking such a foul brew. I uttered a
silent prayer in my heart. Please let me find some other source of
drinking water before my canteen runs dry. That night I went to sleep
with a fervent hope that a new day would bring a miracle. My canteen was
now empty.
I slept fitfully on a little shelf of rock under another overhang in the
canyon. It was about 20 feet above the level of the canyon floor. When I
awoke the next morning, I peered over the edge of the shelf to check out
the water. My heart sank when I saw that the water still looked like
dark chocolate milk.
Expecting to die of some terrible disease, I slowly picked my way down
to the water's edge with my canteen. Maybe I could find a quiet little
pool where the water wasn't quite so nasty looking. To my utter
amazement and delight, I found a tiny little spring of water bubbling up
out of the ground just a few feet from the edge of the creek. As I
filled my canteen, my heart filled with gratitude. The water was cool
and clear and tasted refreshingly like the mineral water you can get in
an expensive restaurant. To this day, I have never looked at a glass of
water quite the same and I certainly will never again take such a simple
blessing for granted.
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