Before my children started elementary school, my husband, our two daughters and I set off to New Hampshire for our first family camping experience. We imagined roasting marshmallows over a crackling campfire, sighting a greater variety of wildlife than the Robins, Blue Jays and Grey Squirrels inhabiting our backyard, and exploring new trails. We hadn’t truly considered rainy weather options. We certainly hadn’t expected severe thunderstorms. But then the best part of camping is frequently the unexpected.
Upon locating our campsite, we selected a nice flat spot and despite the darkening skies we set up our tent without mishap. When we crawled into our sleeping bags that night we weren’t bothered by rocks, or roots and my husband and I marveled at what a perfect site we had selected for our tent.
Along came Saturday—“severe thunderstorm warning!” was broadcast, not that we were listening to the radio. Soon a nice soft pitter-patter fell gently through the pine boughs. Before long a true deluge began, so we decide to enjoy the storm by reading and drawing in our tent. As the wind howled and lightning cracked, our daughters’ interest in books and art projects diminished and their attention turned to the ferocity with which the storm was pummeling our tent. “Wow! Look how the tent bows in with the wind”, “Isn’t the thunder and lightning exciting?” And when our 5 year old asked, “Mommy, is it going to flood?” with more than a little trepidation in her voice, I calmly responded, “of course not.” My younger daughter meanwhile gleefully patted the tent floor, “it’s a waterbed mommy!”
My husband, being practical, looked outside the tent to verify my response and said, “Throw me my bathing suit.” A quick change into his suit and he stepped outside our tent, put his head back in and said, “Toss me my car keys and pack up.” Come to find out he had stepped into 5 inches of water! So much for our ideal tent site. Had it not been for the stakes we so securely pounded in we would be down river. Pressing against the bottom of the tent our youngest said, “Neat mommy, look how squishy this is, can we jump on it like a trampoline?” Unsure how well the floor of our tent would hold up with four little feet jumping on it from above, and a torrent of water beneath it, I decided that would not be prudent. No matter, it was plenty entertaining watching mom throw everything in sight into the duffels.
Not wanting to find out how well our duffels would repel water when the river crested over the tent threshold, we backed the car up to the tent and tossed our belongings into our vehicle. All the time my husband and I made light of the situation not wanting to concern our daughters—as if they couldn’t read the concern from the velocity with which our duffels flew out the tent flap.
If we had been in an action movie, then the tent would have washed away immediately after we had emptied the tent of its contents. Well, we weren’t on a movie set. The tent, now empty, was immediately bathed in golden rays of sun as the rain instantly abated and the skies cleared to make a mockery of our sense of urgency.
No comments :
Post a Comment