My extended family is camping this weekend, so that can only mean one thing:
A few years ago, a massive rainstorm hit the campground we favor (Chain-O-Lakes State Park near Albion, Indiana) and would you believe it? One of the three brothers in our family is an engineer and the other two demonstrated that they are anything but:
We had the misfortune of obtaining a campsite that was downstream of most of the rest of the campground and one of us pitched his tent in the very lowest part of that site, what became the deepest part of a temporary lake. The other pitched his tent at the natural outlet to that lake.
Our mother, the wise matriarch of the clan, used a moment between downpours to scout the campground and note which sites drained the best; we reserve those well in advance now. And we'll probably need them, as this part of the country has seen heavy thunderstorms almost every week. Wednesday, it was tornadoes and earthquakes in tandem.
Update: a small shower Saturday morning, more rain on the trip home, but otherwise sunny and
3 comments:
Why does our mom look like a dementor?
Oh, and I remember you mocking me about the location of my tent when I returned after the rain, but you never happened to mention that yours was just as poorly placed.
Now the truth comes out.
No no no. My tent had a river running in front of the entrance; yours was at the bottom of the lake.
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