i recently took a golf trip to arizona with some friends, and outside some beautifully rugged landscapes, friendly people, and a heck of a lot of cacti, my main take away was this: it was hot. but any time you talk about travelling in the southwestern united states, you can’t mention how hot it is without someone chiming in to say, “but, it’s a dry heat.”
but what does that even mean? 40-degree heat is 40-degree heat, right? after all, i didn’t think the baking temperature would be that different from toronto, and yet, my eyes were dry, my lips chapped, and my throat felt like the inside of king tut’s sarcophagus. in fact, i had to keep drinking water to keep my tonsils from feeling like they were shrivelling up.
part of my experience may stem from the fact i have sensitive skin, but that wasn’t the only weird phenomenon. the other thing that happened to everyone i was with was that, well, we didn’t pee — despite playing golf in extreme temperatures for several hours and drinking litres and litres of water.
surely the dry heat to blame, but where did all the liquid go?
dry heat vs. humid heat
dry heat is often
caused by mountains. in fact, some of the driest places on earth (the sahara desert and the australian outback, for example) are surrounded by mountain peaks that redirect humid air away from those areas and leave dusty, dry areas full of sand in the middle. the valley of the sun in the phoenix area is a prime example.