Remember that shorts are considered inappropriate attire at the monastery. The rainiest part of the year is in July and August, and sudden storms can blow up any time. After the winds have swept clear the night sky, though, the stars will make you gasp. When Thomas Merton had visited Christ in the Desert Monastery in 1968, he'd described in his journal the same sensation of time travel as I discovered threading my way up the canyon road. Nearly all signs of modern culture disappear at the turnoff from the highway.
Guests find their quarters in spotlessly swept but simple adobe cells.
Mine was about eight by ten, furnished with a crude desk and chair, a narrow cement bench holding a futon, two oil lamps, and a cupboard. The only decorative touch was a small cross whittled from desert twigs and pinned together with a stem of desiccated cactus blossom. The monastery buildings are stuccoed with the same red earth that dusts your sandals. Many visitors make the trip into the canyon just to encounter this chapel, light a candle, and experience a moment of exquisite silence. On-site solar panels generate minimal electricity, and the only telephone is a cellular with a temperamental uplink.