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The Storm

Day 25 1/2

The third wave of tonight's epic storm featured hailstones pounding the roof of the tent. The wind whipped and lightning flashed like cameras at a Lady Gaga appearance. 
I felt the roof. They seemed rather small, smacking the fabric like machine gun bullets. At least they weren't ping pong ball sized like the stories we have heard. Hope the bike's okay.
Unzipping the top of the side window, I peeked out the slit. The ground appeared a ghostly blue from the barrage of lightning flashes, the white hail covered the grass and reflected the eerie glow.
When we checked in the guy told us there would be a storm tonight. That's the cue! "Then we'll take a room."
In our defense, I looked up the weather report and saw no storm warnings. Trust the locals!
The first storm was the worst. Wind slammed the sides of the tent, with the gusts sending a shudder through the trailer below us. Lightning flashed and the thunder roared (fortunately not overhead!) in an almost constant cacophony. I reflected on the guy's words at check in; "We have a safe area you can go to, here," he pointed on the map, "if we get a good storm."
So what is a storm big enough to abandon the tent and go there? Apparently not this one. And we abandon the tent, right? No time to fold it up to protect it. And our raingear is stashed in the bike. Perfect.
Quilter Girl murmured, "Someone said that lightning, wind and hail were he perfect mix for a tornado."
Great. Ain't no sleep going on here.
The tent shuddered. I never experienced thunder and lightning like this. It flashed repeatedly and the thunder roared in the distance almost non stop.
Must be exciting when it's right overhead!
The second storm contained the same light show and rumble of thunder, but featured a downpour. Will the tent leak? Are the electronics safe? The farmers probably can't sleep either, but are dancing for joy at the long awaited moisture.
I didn't share their glee.
QG said, "At the last campground some people had a pop top tent and when they set it up, they decided to move it. A huge branch from a tree crashed to the ground where they originally would have parked."
Perfect. We're under a tree. Perhaps QG wants me up all night, waiting for that branch to crash through the roof.
Actually, the fabric and little aluminum bar would break it's fall.
The fourth and last storm wave blew, flashed and rumbled, although not nearly as bad as storm one. Nontheless, it certainly kept us awake.
At last the stormtroopers of weather marched away to terrorize others and we drifted off into troubled sleep.
The next morning we awoke to... a perfectly dry tent inside. No water, no damage.
To the trailer, anyway. Our shattered nerves were a different story.

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