The Wizards of Weather said we’d get rain and passing thunder last night, and that we did. We brought rattled Scout up on the bed with us, while unfazed Dipstick spent the night curled up on the floor. They rousted me before 5am, and we made our way toward the door.
Though the ground around Ernie was swampy, in the pre-dawn gloom I saw no standing water. The creek bed in front of the bus was running, maybe a foot deep. There was a light breeze and temps were in the low 40s — about as warm as it’ll get ’til midday Monday.
So the 24-hour deluge is over. There’s no rain in the ten-day forecast. We do, however, have four straight sub-freezing nights coming.
About those pups… their needs determine pretty much everything we do, of course, the when and where of our everyday life. If you have dogs, especially if you travel with them, you know what I mean. And although I’m not necessarily thrilled with rolling out of bed at 5am (or earlier) every day, for example, I’ve never gotten too terribly cranky about it.
They depend on us for everything. So that’s the way it is.
What they return is constant entertainment and unconditional love. Scout and Dipstick have become the most amazing little road warriors, too, adapting to changes of scenery and challenging circumstances without undue drama (and often better than Deb and I do).
Our girl Scout and The ‘Stick are, without exaggeration, family. Either you get that or you don’t.
I believe we’ll stick close to the bus today. It’s been five days since we’ve seen The Mountain, and we truly miss it — the place has a way of sustaining us, energizing us, reminding us of who we are and the American Life we aspire to live.
When we return, we’ll be curious to see how 24 hours of torrential rain affected the clearing created by the backhoe, as well as the cut to the summit. That part of The Mountain itself is pretty dry — there are no water features, that is, no streams and no ponds — but water (like other things) flows downhill, and we expect to see how (and how well) the cleared area drained. I don’t imagine we’ll find it washed out, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find a gully or three. We’ll take pictures, make notes, and catalog the experience to adjust our work going forward.
The previous owner of our Ranger, who lives at the base of The Mountain, texted us the other day to say that he has a few things for us (OEM tool kit, etc.), so we’ll swing by his place next trip. And last night we picked up a some-assembly-required item that’ll likely stay on The Mountain. We’ll take it up to Deb’s cousin’s workshop and I’ll borrow a few tools to put it together.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.