Memorial Day Camping

1. Where We Camped

For Memorial Day, we went camping in the granite hills along the shores of Lake Buchanan. Blackrock Park is becoming a bit of an annual tradition.

We pitched our tent upon a hill, on a gentle slope as flat as we could find. The stakes went in easily. It was a good place, although the afternoon sun beat down mercilessly.

Ben pitched his tent nearby. And we set up the screened canopy close to the picnic table and popup trailer that in years past has been a welcome refuge from the rain.

2. The Sky Was Blue

Friday night, the skies had opened and a horrific storm was unloosed on those few intrepid early-arriving campers. But by the time we got there the skies were blue, and the sun was shining, the Wrens and Mockingbirds were singing in the trees, and there was no sign of rain.

That's what it was like yesterday, Melody and Steve warned us.

But the sky was blue. The sun was hot. Our mission was not to avoid the rain but to avoid the sun. Storms were far from our minds. And anyway our tents seemed well-secured.

3. The First Night

So of course, that first night it stormed. There was lightning in the west after the sun went down. At first it was far away, and we reassured ourselves that certainly it would die down before it got to us.

But it got to us.

It came in two waves, dumping water from the sky each time. As they passed over us, the claps of thunder scared the dog, and Trudy let him out of his crate and under the covers. He doesn't like thunder, but the shaking of the tent in the wind was even worse. She said that she had never seen that look on his face before.

Then the rain passed, and the night was otherwise uneventful.

4. Next Day's Activities

As the sun came up over the lake in the east and a breeze began to blow, we hung out our sheets and blankets and opened both doors of the tent to let it dry out.

Within hours it had, and by early afternoon we had put everything back, this time with our heads pointing uphill -- a minor detail we skipped the day before.

There was swimming at the beach. There was bike riding. There were stomp rockets and much running around. The sky was blue again, and the sun was shining, and the Wrens and Mockingbirds were singing.

5. The Approaching Storm

And then the southern sky turned black.

Overhead it was a sunny, summer day. But across the lake in the general direction of Kingsland, a mighty storm was beating down. The wind coming from the southwest carried the rumor of rain on the air. Thunder rolled.

The rumbling grew louder and more frequent. The black sky gradually consumed more and more of the blue sunny day.

Until the very last, it seemed as though it would miss us. Overhead the sun shone until the margins of the storm extended over us and then the sky began to darken in earnest.

Trudy chose to ride it out in the dry, reconfigured tent with Guinness, who was already distraught at the approaching thunder. Ben opted for his tent, and he took his book with him. The others decided it was time to play a game and retreated to the popup camper. I was still sure that we would only get a minor slice of the storm.

The thunder rolled. Lightning flashed. Across the lake, approaching us like a wall, the water was whipped into a white froth. Here, the water was dark and still. There, chaos had let loose, and it was heading our way with noticeable velocity.

6. Staking the Canopy

As I sat under the screened-in canopy, a proud purchase from last year which we were now using for the second time, the rain began to fall -- gently at first, of course. But as the wall of chaos advance across the lake, the wind picked up and the rain began to fall at a slant, making the canopy not such a dry place after all.

About that time, it occurred to me that this might be a good time to put some stakes in the canopy.

Yes, now would be a good time to stake the canopy down. The rain was falling hard. As I finished the first corner, the wind was fierce, and I began to doubt the utility of the exercise. But I was already soaked, so I moved to the next corner.

From the popup, voices urged me to come inside. But I pounded at the second stake with my hammer as the rain streamed off the brim of my hat, and I prepared for the third. This was going to work, I told myself, in spite of the gale that was blowing.

7. The Arriving Storm

And that is when the storm arrived in earnest. What had come before was mere prelude. The rain, the wind, the black sky. These were just the preliminaries for what came next.

As I stood up and turned to the popup to tell them I was going to stake the other two corners, the wind began to howl. Inside the camper, I saw frantic hands trying to zip the windows shut. Voices were yelling for me to come inside. But I still had my canopy to stake.

As I turned and headed to corner number three, the force of the wind slapped me in the face. The rain pelted me. I heard voices in the camper behind me.

And then I looked up the hill.

8. What Happened on the Hill

We had pitched our tent on the hill. And Ben had, too. I looked up the hill at the tents and saw our six-foot tent rolling towards me as the howling wind pushed it. Trudy and Guinness were inside.

With my hat amazingly still on my head, I walked out into the gale and up the hill. The tent was completely upside down, all six stakes bent and popped out of the ground.

Are you ok!? I shouted. The wind must have drowned out my voice. There was no answer.

I walked to the southwest side, where one of the doors would have been before the storm blew in.

Trudy! Walk slowly in the direction of my voice! I heard her say, Ok.

I staked first one corner and then another and then another until all six corners were back as they should have been. The rain was still falling in a torrent, but the worst of the wind had now passed. The stakes held. Trudy said she and Guinness were ok, and amazingly, it was mostly dry inside. (Buy your tents from REI!)

Next, I looked in the direction of Ben's tent.

Are you ok!? I shouted when I got there.

Yes!

So I started to restake his rain fly and the corners of his tent.

It's a lost cause, Dad. he shouted.

As I walked to the far side of the tent, I saw what he meant. One of the poles had broken the pierced the rain fly, leaving it uselessly torn.

The rain is pouring in thru the screen!

Are you dry? I asked.

Don't ask my why I would ask such a question as the rain pelted me and ran off my hat (which was still on my head) and as it poured in thru the screen of his flyless tent. But then don't ask how on earth the answer was, Yes!

I'm putting all my stuff in my suitcase! he yelled.

Ok. Then throw it in the car and run into the camper.

By this time, the wind was mostly gone. Soon the rain slowed. And within less than an hour the sky was again blue, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and our stuff was hanging out again to dry.

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