Muserology Cafe

Weathering the Storm (September 2010)

by Anna Whittemore, age 12, Tennessee

You may have heard about the floods in Middle Tennessee this April. You might think, "Oh, that would never happen where I live. I'm not in any danger." You're probably right--but fate and the weather have a funny sense of humor, so don't be too sure. The floods came on the very weekend that the Girl Scouts of Tennessee had scheduled a "Camporee," an event where a few troops come together at a Girl Scout camp for activities such as horseback riding, obstacle courses, and movie nights. This one didn't work out quite like it was supposed to.

There had been forecasts of thunderstorms all week, but that hadn't daunted me, my mother (my troop's outdoor leader), or two of the other Girl Scouts in my troup. We were going, no matter what. On Friday afternoon, we loaded all seven million pounds of our luggage and food into my mother's tiny red sardine-can car, smushed ourselves in, and set off on the two-hour journey to the camp. It was a gorgeous day--no rain yet. 

Our "cabana" was a lot bigger than I'd expected it to be: it had running water, a full kitchen, a bathroom, and four bedrooms. We were sharing the cabana with another troop. We all went to sleep after telling ghost stories, setting up beds, and having way more junk food than I am allowed to eat at home. 

That night, it started raining. 

I woke up at 5:00 AM to thunder and lighting. I shut the window and drifted woozily back to sleep. The next morning, it was pouring. All adventure programs were cancled, which meant no horses or rappelling or tree climbing. Instead, after breakfast, we went to the main building and helped the Daisies (the youngest rank of Girl Scouts, ages four to six) make really inadequate kaleidoscopes. The crafts were rushed, since a bunch of troops had opted to leave that morning in case the storms caused flooding. But considering that the storms were between the camp and my hometown, the roads were exactly where my troop didn't need to be.

After lunch, I found out why the horse programs had been canceled and most of the troops were gone--and why they had left in such a hurry. Walking to look at the bridge over the nearby river, I looked out at the field I had to cross and saw another river! It had been a perfectly dry field less than 24 hours earlier. Now it was a murky and foreboding waterway. We were told that the road out was submerged as well. One thing was for sure: nobody was going to be leaving our "island" anytime soon, at least by that route. 

It didn't matter to me that we couldn't leave. We weren't supposed to go until the next day, anyway, so what was the difference? My fellow troop members and I spent most of the day holed up in our room, playing MASH and war. We also spent a considerable amount of time knee-deep in puddles and exploring the damp area behind our cabana. 

That night, a Brownie troop moved into our cabana. Their original facility had been flooded through the chimney. There were tornado warnings that night, so all of us kids had to pile up like so many kittens in the spacious (though not exactly four-star hotel material) bathrom. We woke many times in the night, listening to the tornado warnings and judging how close they were to the camp and to our homes. 

When morning came, we were a little sore and tired, though none the worse for the wear. The same could not be said, however, for the road out. The water level was higher. Calling the emergency medics was discussed, as was calling Channel Five News. I think someone did call the EMS, but they said they were busy taking care of people in actual emergency situations. We had plenty of food, water, and board games. 

Several troops left that day, including the Brownies who had been sharing the cabana with us. They took the "emergency exit," a potholed and extremely muddy dirt road. One group left with nothing but their plastic rain ponchos. All groups got out OK. But the problem of getting ourselves out remained. The main road out was completely underwater, and the bridge would likely be ripped off by the raging water. My mother's car would never make it out the muddy emergency road. We couldn't walk out without leaving my mother's car, and it was our only way home. We had already accepted staying an extra night and missing school and work the next day, but we really didn't have enough clothes for two extra days. The rest of that day was somewhat tense. 

The next day brought amazingly good news. The water had gone completely down, leaving the bridge intact and even crossable. We waited until around 11:00, packed the car, and with only a slight delay caused by getting stuck in the muddy driveway, we were out. 

Even though some parts of the trip were less than amazing (for example, sleeping in the bathroom), I had fun on our camping trip and wouldn't trade the experience for anything. I saw flash floods, played in puddles for the first time in years, and got a little taste of what it's like to be in a natural disaster--and I'm grateful that no one at camp was hurt. Next time I go camping, though, I am going to cancel at the slightest hint of rain!