By Eamon Scarbrough
Portales has, like any town, its fair share of good and bad characteristics. That should be common knowledge for those who have attended ENMU for any extended period of time. 
Although it would sometimes seem that the negatives outweigh the positives, at least all is calm and quiet by eight in the evening. Portales even manages to surprise some of its citizens with the occasional torrential downpour. However, that is where this article takes a decidedly more cynical turn. This town is certainly a pleasant place to live at times, but if it was more equipped to handle nature’s little surprises, which often are not so little and not so surprising, then the population could enjoy it more.
Dark clouds blanketed Portales for almost a whole day Wednesday. A small but consistent drizzle made walking to class an enjoyable endeavor, wet socks notwithstanding. Then, the rain wasn’t letting up but instead was getting more severe, and that’s when all hell broke loose.
The ground on ENMU’s campus became unstable and shifted under the feet of innocent passersby. Veritable ponds formed in the most inconvenient locations, such as directly in front of the entrances to most buildings. Anyone wanting to avoid soaked ankles had to chart a course around the huge bodies of water while liquid hellfire ruined perfectly prepared hairstyles. Even walking on the sidewalk became a dangerous game because any car could be the next one to launch a muddy tidal wave, ruining one’s day even more.
As with the other thunderstorms Portales has experienced in the recent past, one of the largest projects is hindered greatly by the torrent: the construction. After the rain, what were once perfectly shaped trenches become a moat, sectioned off by traffic cones and flimsy yellow caution tape. Although it is sad to see the process interrupted, it is nice to see the construction workers really applying some effort when they scoop the water out with buckets. It almost warms one’s heart to see them return the work-in-progress to its original state so it can then be left alone for another six months (until it rains again, of course).
One of the most rewarding parts of the rain, though, must be the veritable Nile River Valley that is 18th Street. There is no feeling quite like driving through three feet of standing water, risking flooding one’s engine, while simultaneously squinting to see past the buckets of rain that the windshield wiper somehow failed to remove. Then there’s the fellow in the Ford F450 King Ranch who refuses to stay more than three feet behind one’s car, no matter if one is going the speed limit or not.
Portales during a thunderstorm can be best described as a masochist’s paradise. No matter where one goes, there’s a plethora of means to make one self-indescribably miserable. In fact, masochism might be the most efficient response to this situation because the rain undoubtedly will ruin someone’s life in one form or another, if only for a day.