I'm sitting in the TinkTerra, the haunting aroma of wet leaves, damp nylon and dirty laundry wafting through the air. Harley shivers on the seat beside me, upset because I won't let him help tell our story. A tropical breeze (hurricanes are tropical, aren't they) dances through the leaves above me. My feet are wet, my clothes are wet, Harley's nose is wet. (Maybe my nose is wet too, I'm not saying.) As you may have guessed, we had a touch of rain last night.
It started about 11:00 with a loud bang of thunder. Harley forgot all about the frogs and dove under the covers with me. He wasn't happy when I crawled out of the tent to try to put the firewood and charcoal out of the coming rain. I could have saved my time because it did no good. Only the stuff that was actually in the tent or the car stayed dry, and not all of that. I can't say just how bad the rain was because it always seems worse when you're in a tent, but it was pretty bad. Thunder, lightning... all the special effects. It reminded me of my childhood and why I hate thunderstorms. Being older and wiser, I wasn't frightened... much. I distracted myself by chatting with my other good buddy, also known as Chris, and checking the weather on my Blackberry. By the time I had typed a few semi-coherent sentences on the tiny keys of the Blackberry the thunder had lessened and it had settled in to rain. I don't know how long the storm lasted, I fell asleep at 12:30 or so and it was still going strong.
Everything was wet when we woke up at 7:30 this morning except for Harley, I and the backpack containing my books and this laptop. We were going to light a fire and have breakfast, but I discovered that the charcoal and wood were soaked through and so was the one folding chair I had stacked them on. When I went to pick up the bag of charcoal, the bag disintegrated, and wet charcoal fell into the gallon or so of water in the chair's seat. Don't ask me why I didn't put that stuff in the car. My only defense was that I was tired and stupid. After a shower and a change of clothes, I decided to pack up the tent. It only took me about an hour and a half to get everything in the car. I don't know what we will do today, but we'll not stay here. With my only chair soaking wet and black with charcoal, I have nowhere to sit and nothing really to do. Besides, once I start packing, I can't seem to stop and now that I'm packed up there doesn't seem to be much sense in staying here. I think we'll go try to f ind George Washington's birthplace and see if they allow pets at all. At the very least I should be able to get some pictures.
Harley is shivering too much, I need to go. I'll finish this later today. Isn't camping fun??