I grew up in the mountains of Northern New Mexico. Born and raised at about 7,200 feet above sea level, the heat never rose above about 96 or 97 degrees. Every night it cooled off really nicely, too. So even if it was hot, at night you just opened up the windows and by midnight you’d be cold and chilly in the 60s. In August, the monsoon would come along and you’d have a hot, steamy morning, followed by a wonderful mountain thunderstorm every day from about 4pm to 6pm. So lovely.
We used to take trips to California in the winter and occasionally in the summer once my older siblings were in college here. I always remember hitting Needles on I-40 and thinking “Ugh…hot”
While, I don’t live in Needles, but boy has it been hot here. Although June and July and even August I can handle the triple digit heat. Others complain, but hey, it’s summer, right? It should be hot. Global warming? Maybe, but it is summer!
Now it’s October 1st, though and I am done with it. Triple digits on October 1st (109 to be exact)! No thank you. I love Pasadena, but boy do I miss the mountains.
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