by Rudolfo Carrillo
This year marks my fiftieth summer living in Albuquerque.
Historical Context
Before that my family was stationed in Dinétah, in a very dry part of the reservation near the border with Arizona. My dad got transferred, and we moved here in August 1976, just in time for my twin brother and I to get fascinated with the idea of all the water we were going to encounter in our new lives as Albuquerqueans. On the trip out, Albino kept asking my mom who her favorite favorite saint was, and did she know anything about San Ysidro, the patron saint of farmers and irrigators in the Rio Grande Valley?
As my family made our entrada into that fabled valley exactly 50 years ago, I marvelled at the green and lush and flowing river valley; the inviting, even invigorating sun that shone brightly until boldly triumphant rains came and washed away the heat in the late afternoons; the coolness of the evenings that followed.
My mother had fixed herself on the idea of owning a home in the foothills of the Sandia Mountains and after she accomplished that, Virginia Carrillo most gracefully decided to enroll us at Eisenhower Middle School. It was there, in the dunes, arroyos, and manicured lawns on the edge of the Sandia Foothills, just past the apex of summer, that I fell in love with the weather and environs of El Burque.
I also started reading and working at the local afternoon newspaper that summer. The words of a local columnist with a historically humorous bent caught my eye and jangled my brain. His name was Howard Bryan. I found out that Bryan had come out to Albuquerque just after World War II, in the summertime as well. He fell in love with the weather and decided to stay; he wrote stories about this town and its people until he died in 2011.
I got to work with Bryan when I was in high school and later interviewed him as part of Weekly Alibi’s Best of Burque 2003. Sometimes we’d meet for coffee and cigarettes Downtown or in Old Town. We always began our chats by talking about the weather. Bryan was from Ohio—a place where he told me tornados were a fact of life and it rained most days in the summer—and nothing pleased him more than being able to start out any old discussion we had with the phrase, “How’s that weather treating ya, Carrillo?”
Lived Experience
I thought about all this today, as I wrote the following update on our peculiar, dangerous daytime weather; this is what I came up with by way of a response to Bryan’s timeless query.
Hey, Mr. Bryan! Get a load of this:
Yesterday morning, during the first week of August, mind you, I decided to save some gas money by taking the bus from my Downtown chante to the University of New Mexico, where I work.
Summer is always hot in El Burque, I reminded myself but I also knew, as a native to these parts, that by August things cool down as residents await the first whiffs of roasting green chile and then, blam … balloons appear everywhere, sometimes rising in the cold autumn hours before dawn.
But this year is different. I know it; you know it, dear reader; the weathermen and weatherwomen know it; most importantly, the planet knows it, too.
I left at about 11am and started walking the five blocks to the nearest bus stop. Within minutes, I was overwhelmed by the light of the sun and the heat it produced. As I felt the intensity of that old flaming ball of hydrogen hanging in the late summer sky, I nearly panicked because I felt like I was in unfamiliar territory. This was not the Albuquerque of my youth or of my middle age for that matter. Just down the road from mi casita, for instance, the river is dry and looks pretty damn forlorn compared to what it seemed like, alive and vibrant, back in my before time.
Through the sweat and tears, and as my heart began to pound, I hurredly decided to backtrack; gasoline might be prohibitively expensive this summer (as Trump and his fiends continue to wage war and commit genocide in the Middle East) but a quick trip, here and there in el coche with the air-conditioning running sure beats getting caught in the sun and the heat Albuquerque is currently experiencing, I thought as I rounded the corner near my little home.
I jumped into that beat-up old car of mine, set the air conditioning to 68 degrees with the fan on full, and headed out into what must be the hottest summer I can recall.
When I arrived on campus, I pulled over in an underground garage and headed for the cool and covered dining hall; surely the air conditioning at La Po would assuage my overheated body and troubled mind. An icy glass of Diet Pepsi probably wouldn’t hurt, either.
Natural Science
While I was sitting down, I looked over at the ginormous teevee hanging on the wall at the far end of La Posada. A local meteorologist was discoursing about current heat and UV warnings in the metro area and told viewers: “Low humidity keeps the air feeling manageable in the shade, but the relentless high-desert sun and high UV index will catch up to you in minutes if you aren’t wearing sunscreen.”
To be clear, that means using sunscreen with a value of 30 SPF or higher, if you absolutely need to be outside in Albuquerque between 10am and 4pm. That’s because of the presence of a high amount of radiation and heat from the summer sun in these parts. High temperatures and ultraviolet (UV) radiation peak together during the daytime hours listed above.
That situation creates dual risks of heat illness and skin damage. While heat causes dehydration, heat exhaustion, and heat stroke, invisible UV radiation damages skin cell DNA, leading to sunburn and increasing skin cancer risk. Temperature does not dictate UV strength; UV can remain high even on cooler days. Further, summer habits like wearing less clothing can amplify exposure as one exposes one’s skin through the application of fashionable beach gear. You can monitor daily solar intensity using tools like the National Weather Service UV Index Forecast.
And speaking of the National Weather Service, the feds just issued another heat advisory for the Middle Rio Grande Valley; it’s in effect until 8pm tonight. The text of the warning is particularly notable as it lists the heat and high UV index as a cause for health concerns, especially for the aged and the chronically ill. In fact the advisory makes no bones about how significant such weather can be and has been here in Burque, warning readers that record high temperatures, a lack of rain, and a high UV index will create a “moderate to major heat risk” for humans and animals living in Bernalillo County throughout the day.
My solution involves staying indoors during the time period when UV radiation, heat, and sunlight are in ascendance and peak between 10am and 4pm. If you need to be outdoors for sustained periods of time (more than 10 minutes at a stretch), then make sure you’re wearing cool comfortable clothing and shoes that provide good coverage, neck to foot. Apply 30 SPF sunscreen lotion to your hands and face; wear a loose-fitting cap if you can, too.
That’s the way of survival, but as we survive and grow strong in our realization of what’s happening, we should also grow our awareness.
So, second, put aside the past and any illusions about what this place is as we march toward a new version of this world that a growing number of us may not initially recognize.
Third, organize. Become part of a community that works to honor the past while promoting sustainability and ecologically friendly industry—while also recognizing the holy and historically heavy nature of our relationship to our land and our water, our deep connection to the weather in these parts.
And that’s the way it is, August 4, 2026: a little better than was predicted.
