Fall flood adventure
Mark's out saving the world this weekend, so I
thought my Mom might like to come over for the day and keep me
company. She drove up from town and arrived as the rain started
to pick up.
After a drenching ride to the trailer in the golf cart, we settled in
for girl time --- hot chocolate and board games. The rain kept
drumming on the trailer roof, but I didn't pay much heed.
"Will the creek flood?" Mom asked worriedly.
"Naw," I reassured her. "Unless we get
three inches in a day, we'll be fine."
We glanced out the window. Was the rain gauge really full nearly
all the way to the top?! That looks a lot like three inches!
"Um, I just made that three inch figure up..." I said as we scurried
around collecting wet clothes and produce. Down we rolled into
the floodplain, through the first miniford without a problem, splashing
through a wet second miniford, then stopping in distress in front of
the third miniford. Time to leave the vehicle and head out on
foot!
The water was too high to make boots worthwhile. Even rolling up
your pants gets pretty useless when the muddy floodwater reaches above
your knees. We splashed through the last miniford and peered at
the raging waters in the creek itself --- about chest high. No
way we were walking through that.
Lucy was in her element, galloping along the
water's edge. She jumped onto the footbridge, thrilled at the way
the creekwater was even with the boards. Bits of trash washing
down the creek lodged on the side of the bridge so that she barely had
to bend her head to grab them. A farm dog paradise!
If Lucy could get across, so could we. I took one of the
produce-filled backpacks and carried it across, then came back for the
other and to hold Mom's hand. My mother is pretty plucky --- most
folks won't even walk across our footbridge when the creek is low and
the boards are dry. But Mom cut down a Christmas tree and dragged
it home when she was nine months pregnant with me. She canned
endless loads of produce when she was nine months pregnant with my
sister. A floating footbridge was no problem.
The good thing about raging water is that it blocks out the sound of
old walnut logs creaking and cracking beneath your feet. The
water under the footbridge actually made it feel more stable than usual
--- like walking on a waterbed! Mom reached her car safely, then
Lucy and I braved the footbridge again for the wet walk home. Now
I'm holed up with two dry cats, hoping the flood waters recede in time
for Mark's return tomorrow evening. Too bad he missed all the
excitement....
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About us: Anna Hess and Mark Hamilton spent over a decade living self-sufficiently in the mountains of Virginia before moving north to start over from scratch in the foothills of Ohio. They've experimented with permaculture, no-till gardening, trailersteading, home-based microbusinesses and much more, writing about their adventures in both blogs and books.
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