Saturday, August 8, 2009

Depends on What You Mean By Sun

August 8, 2009
Weather. I am always interested in how that will be. I hate summer heat and sun. Love rainy, grey, overcast days, precipitation and coolness. Since we're camping in tents, it's become even more relevant than usual. So the other day when we saw that it was supposed to be in the upper 80s/low90s with sunshine on Friday and Saturday, I began my mental preparations. I would be uncomfortable, but we have had such mild weather for the most part on the trip that I figured it would be ungrateful to complain. Sleeping temps have been good. Of more concern was the “isolated thunderstorms” that were supposed to be around, but we figured it would rain hard for a little while and then stop and we would be dry.
Thursday night, the rain began. Then it stopped. I went back to sleep. Bill got up at an unknown hour, but when I opened one eye to see what was going on, I could tell from the light outside that it was far too early to be moving around and I promptly fell back to sleep. I am not a morning person. I don't know how long I dozed there before I woke up to the sound of raindrops falling on the tent. It was still too early to get up, but when he got back from his shower, I got up and took one, too. I later discovered that it was about 6:10. Ridiculous. I am sure I was on autopilot, because I do not function at such an hour. And as it turned out, I needn't have bothered!!
It was still raining after my shower, but not very hard. I moved some stuff around and got into the truck and picked up my book. After awhile, Bill joined me. When the rain stopped, we fired up the stove and heated a pot of water for coffee and then another to pour into the thermos. By the time the second pot was almost done, the rain had started again, so I got out the umbrella and stood with it over the stove so it could finish. We got back into the truck with our coffee and the heavens opened up! The rain came down. And more came down. It kept coming down. Rain, rain, rain. The fire pit, which consists of a big tire rim sunk into the ground at a depth of at least 12-15 inches was half full of water. I looked around for some sign of that sunshine they had said was going to be the main weather feature of the day, but I couldn't see it because the sky was full of black clouds. It kept raining. We kept reading. After awhile I noticed Heather's tent rocking from side to side and bulging momentarily in various places. Suddenly she was sprinting to the bathroom. Then she sprinted back and I got out of the truck to let her in the backseat. There was soaking number one. I sat back in the truck dripping. Then we figured we'd better get our pillows out of the tent, so we did that. Soaking number two. I dripped some more. Then I had to go to the bathroom and change my shirt, since I apparently had not placed the cover tightly enough on my coffee cup and I dribbled coffee on my shirt. Soaking number three. I sat in the truck with a drenched, but clean shirt on and used my coffee stained T-shirt to try and dry my hair. The windows fogged up. The tent was leaking and the rain wasn't stopping, so we figured it was time to get out the backpacks that contained our clothing. Soaking number 4. Bill decided that we needed to seek some shelter, because, try as we might to find what the Minnesotans apparently refer to as sun—at least the meteorologists—we were never successful.
Since we basically had no clue where exactly we were in relation to anywhere else, except that the Twin Cities were north, and Bill did not want to drive in the urban area where we did not know our way around in a torrential downpour, we decided to head south. We'd seen a couple of motel signs so figured we could find something in Belle Plaine. We started off down the road after wiping down the inside of the windows. The windshield wipers were on as high as they were going to go. Bill could not see. Big trucks barreled by us sending us the spray from their tires. We had the windows open to prevent more steaming. The windows were dripping on the inside and the outside. Bill could not see. We passed a giant sign for this place that sells 83 kinds of licorice. I did not know there were 83 kinds of licorice. One is quite more than enough for me. The same place also has something called jalapeno eggs, which, as Heather pointed out, would be useful as an early morning wake-up breakfast. We saw a blue sign that said, “LODGING” and got off on that exit. Then we were directed to go in either direction for lodging. We took the right turn and drove. No lodging here. There were some lovely cornfields, but no lodging. Bill turned around and we got to look at what I suppose is downtown Belle Plaine. After driving parallel to the road we'd just left, I looked across it and saw an AmericInn. Cute. We had no clue how to get there. So we kept trying to head in that direction. I kept trying to keep the water from dripping into my face from my hair. We finally found the parking lot after driving around Emma Krumbee's apple orchard. Seems to be some kind of restaurant chain. Not sure if they all have accompanying orchards and markets. But this one has an accompanying AmericInn, which was the most important thing for our purposes. We parked and made a run for the lobby. Soaking number 5. I am sure I looked like quite a sight standing there dripping on the carpet.
We asked about a room. “For how many nights?” asked Tammy, the very helpful and kind woman behind the desk. We weren't sure. We explained the situation—we were camping, the rain, etc. We were thinking that since Saturday was supposed to be sunny and hot, things would dry out and we could go back to the campground. But then, should we trust the forecast? After all, at that moment, I was supposed to be dripping sweat, not creating my own personal rain shower. She looked up what she had available. She said she had one room left for 3 people for both nights. Then she said she would give it to us for both nights and if we decided on Saturday morning that we didn't want to stay, we could let her know before 11 and she wouldn't charge us for the room for the extra night. I thought that was very nice. Usually there are all kinds of time restrictions on cancellations. Then she said that we'd get a Triple A discount. Then she told us that none of the rooms were cleaned yet—it was still a quarter to noon—but she would get one of her housekeeping staff right on it so the room would be ready in half an hour!! And check-in time wasn't even until 3!! I decided that I really liked Tammy a lot! I began to have visions of a hot shower and some hot coffee.
But we still had to go back and get a few things from the campground. We left the tents there and picked up some other stuff. The fire pit was overflowing. We grabbed some lunch. It had stopped raining, but that sun was still nowhere to be found. The wind was blowing. I was soaked and cold.

We got back to the motel, got our room, put some stuff in the dryer, and learned that there was hot coffee available for free 24 hours a day in the hospitality room. Heaven! Hot coffee that I can just pour into my cup. I don't have to make it or clean up the grounds. I just have to drink it. And it is there 24 hours a day and I don't have to pay for it. Ok, I know, I already paid for it when I paid for the room. But still. Shower and a trip down the hall with my big metal cup. It is amazing how little things can bring such joy.
The afternoon passed without more rain. Then at night, I thought I heard thunder. I looked outside and discovered the lightning flashing. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Instead of flashing and then hearing the thunder and then seeing more flashing some time later, this was like someone standing there turning a light switch on and off. It just kept on flashing. The rain was coming down in buckets. Bill commented on the fact that there was a river flowing by our window. The rain was coming down so fast that the ground couldn't absorb it fast enough. I was glad we were not in our tents. But we figured we would go back to the campground in the morning and the Minnesota sun would be out to dry everything in short order. It was supposed to be sunny and 90, after all. But since there was a chance of thunderstorms and severe ones at that on Saturday night, we decided we would come back to the motel.
So we woke up on Saturday morning and made our way to the hospitality room for breakfast. We looked out the window. No sign of that Minnesota sun. just more grey sky. After our waffles, oatmeal, yogurt, coffee, and juice, we headed out to assess the situation at the campground. It wasn't too bad. The air was humid, so we felt like we were wrapped in wet blankets, but the only ones wet blankets around were the ones in the tents. We brought the wet stuff to the laundry room and put some in the big dryer. When our time was up, we went back to check on it and the dryer had not even gotten hot! Well, we could bring the other stuff back to the motel and dry it there, but no luck with the sleeping bags. We looked up at the sky and still there was no Minnesota sun, but there were big black clouds, so we worked a little faster. We tipped the tents to get the puddles out. We put the wet stuff in the back seat. We got things loaded up. It began to sprinkle. Bill turned on the windshield wipers.
Back at the motel, we got the littler stuff into the dryer and the sleeping bags draped over the clothes racks in the room. We brought in the air mattresses one at a time and spread them on the floor so that the wet spots would have a chance to dry. Too bad there's not enough room to set up the tents in here!
We turned on the Weather Channel and discovered that there is now a flash flood watch and a heat advisory going at the same time. More storms are expected to come through here. Torrential rain is expected. The ground is saturated and can't hold any more water. We are here in our room with the air conditioner running and the hot coffee right down the hall. It's there 24 hours a day. And did I mention that I don't even have to make it?
We still haven't seen the sun. Maybe sunny means something different in Minnesota.