Over the years when storms occur, we have heard old-timers exclaim, “Pshaw! This ain’t nuthin’ compared to the (fire, blizzard, wind) of ought six!” Which is why we are calling this…

The Flood of Ought Four

Start (or stop) the music

On Bighorn, looking northwest, with Pete’s northeast corner post visible. Bighorn Road is covered with rocks from Cholla to Quailbush. Pete’s fence was washed away, as was a strip of his property on the east side. No buildings were damaged. A corner post remains.

Also on Bighorn, with an overall view of Pete’s place. The water cut into Pete’s property, leaving the tree roots exposed. Area with bushes is a couple of feet lower than pre-flood.

Still on Bighorn at Quailbush, looking south. Roger quickly cut a new road from Cholla to Quailbush at the eastern edge of Bighorn, on private property. A surprise for the owner.

On Bighorn, looking southwest at Pete’s damaged fence and gate post. Closer view of trees with bare roots. Will they survive?

Looking straight west at Pete’s, providing a closer view of the trees with exposed roots.

On Cholla east of Bighorn, looking east. The storm left the road ending at a precipice as shown at the right. Roger was on his tractor before it quit raining, and did a great job of restoration before the neighbors knew the road was impassable. He also cut the bypass on Bighorn in record time.

Intersection at Quailbush and Bighorn looking north. It can be traveled… slowly.

—Photos by Martha Coutant

The morning of September 11, 2004 was sunny and quiet in Johnson Valley. No ground squirrels appeared to bulge their cheeks with grain. The large but orderly covey of quail did not arrive for its morning snack. Even the little cottontail that stands its ground in perilous circumstances did not nibble the carrots waiting under the brittle and dried-out senna bush.

All the bushes were brown and brittle. For several years black rain clouds came over the mountains from Mexico, skimmed over Johnson Valley, and flooded various parts of the Mojave Desert.

On September 11 a huge black cloud hovered over Johnson Valley, and lingered. At 11:15 the patter of rain was heard on every surface. In five minutes it was a cloudburst. Thunder was a continuous rumble. The greasewood opened and emitted its pleasant, sharp aroma.

The rain eased, then came on stronger. Rivulets grew into rivers, Puddles became ponds. The world was silver-plated as the land was drenched. Rain turned to hail. Wind blew and hail riveted the windows on all sides, like a million drum sticks keeping the beat. Hail stones bounced to the rhythm. Lightning cracked the sky wide open and more rain fell.

Lightning is supposed to move on after a reasonable performance. But the black cloud was stuck over Johnson Valley and provided a curtain of water for five hours.

At four o’clock the rain eased off into showers. Phones began ringing. Words flew like the torrents. Information was circulating.

Seven inches of rain had fallen on Johnson Valley in five hours.

Roads were washed out. Highway 247, the only route between Lucerne Valley and Yucca Valley, was impassable. There was no way in or out. Johnson Valley was stranded.

Lightning had struck an abandoned shack and burned it to the ground. Water in the washes exceeded the boundaries and cut into the hills. Roads that had traversed the rolling hills now ended in a precipice with ten- to twenty-foot drop-offs. Bikers who zipped over smooth embankments will now find cliffs of various heights without warning. Some houses were flooded.

Where the desert has not been disturbed by man it held together and looks as it has for centuries. But where man took over, Nature arrived to show who is boss.

The photos show only a tiny area of Johnson Valley. The extent of the damage is till being determined. Caltrans immediately started on 247 and worked through the night. The highway was passable the next day. Volunteers in the road maintenance crew were on their tractors before the rain stopped. Residents can travel on some roads but it is hazardous in places. Some hills are steeper. Gullies are everywhere.

We know this is nothing like the tragedies in many parts of the world. But it will be something for the residents to talk about for many years. The blue canopy covered the sky the next day. The squirrels, the quail and the cottontail appeared in fine fettle.

If only they could tell us, did they know?