I am starting to feel bad for Dennis though. In a town of 600 it doesn’t take long for people to start popping their head in the garage to add their two-sense into the situation. There has been a lot of “do you know what I would do? I would just…(insert any one of the numerous pieces of advice we’ve heard)…I bet that would solve the problem.” Oh and he’s also heard a lot of “you haven’t got that thing running yet? I thought you’ve done this before.” So I guess at this point Dennis would get a lot more flack for abandoning ship that if he just couldn’t find the ghost we’re chasing. Either way it looks like we’re spending another weekend in Avon.
This also means that we got to stick around for Old-Fashioned Day on Saturday evening, a tradition in Avon that has been going for over 100 years. The event was put together by the Avon Chamber of Commerce and I would have say that, judging by the turnout, this year was once again a success. It was set in the park (a place we called home for a short time last weekend) where there was a free pork sandwich dinner compliments of the meat locker, a dunk tank for the kids and music provided by the one man band who played an accordion along with pre-recorded musak on the back of a trailer. There was also a car show beside the park on Main Street (no judging, no trophies, just for show) but being that this is a farming community there were just about as many tractors lined up along the street as there were cars. We had a good time talking to car owners and community members alike but it was just kind of funny though. Here we are in the middle of southeastern South Dakota going to weekend events along with the whole town like we have lived there our entire lives. This repeated scenario has made me giggle inside a few times over the last week.
On Sunday we were invited to a 5:30 supper at the house of a farmer we’ve gotten to know the last week. He figured that we could probably use a break from the motorhome to enjoy some of the luxuries and space of a real house for an evening. Earlier in the week he had given us some sweet corn he grew and, by gone, it was probably the best corn I have ever had in my entire life so there was no way we were going to deny his gracious offer.
On Sunday afternoon there were rumors flying around about a storm that was west of Avon and heading our direction with the potential of a hail storm as damaging as South Dakota had experienced earlier this season. People quickly moved vehicles into garages and under carports and took cover in the security of their houses. Right around 4:30 clouds began to overtake the sky giving everything a greenish-blue hue, a sign that hail may be on the horizon. The wind picked up from the northwest then the rain began to fall with the flashes of lightning and the claps of thunder not far behind. Before long we were in the midst of a true South Dakota summer storm. We watched from the windows of the RV as the trees at the edge of the property twisted and turned, swaying aggressively this way and that way seeming to bend to the brink of their capacity then quickly being thrust in the opposite direction.
The rain poured horizontally in sheets, pounding the sides of the Ultrastar like an angry mob with overwhelming strength rushing to war, forcing her to sturdily hold her ground against the tough opponents. Wind gusts took a hold of her, rocking her from side to side and front to back (and not the “if this RV’s a rockin don’t come a knockin” type of rocking). It was enough to make my heart pound a little heavier and quicker realizing that these eighty mile per hour winds were easily overpowering our five ton vehicle. All of the sudden I felt as small as a tiny speck of sand on one of those beautiful vast Michigan beaches we stayed at just a short time ago. Lucky for us (I repeat, extremely lucky) we were stationed on the east side of the garage, well protected from the west and not getting the full brunt of the actual storm elements, though there was still no shortage of excitement. We were both pretty sure that if we wouldn’t have had the protection there was a good possibility that she would have been on her side by the end of the storm. By 5:15 the rain had begun to subside, the wind had calmed and the sky changed from green to yellow. Once we saw the garage cats come out from underneath cars into the open we knew the coast was clear, the storm had passed to the east. We walked out of the RV, hearing a constant grumble of rolling thunder in the not too far distance, and realized the line of damage that the storm had left in its path. There were trees down on almost every block making many roads impassable.
Ponds had formed in people’s yards and electricity was lost throughout the entire town. Before long the community was out with tractors and pick-up trucks clearing debris from the streets and checking up on friends and family. Garage doors were blown in, wires were hanging from poles and a barn across town was almost completely obliterated. There was talk of a funnel touching down in a few spots but I’m not sure if there was any conclusiveness to the rumor. All I know is that this was the most intense storm that we have encountered on this trip and all of the sudden we felt fortunate to be broken down against a garage in Avon rather than camping in the middle of nowhere with no protection from the storm.
In the end, supper plans did go on, though the meal was postponed until 9 o’clock. The electricity was still out but the Van Derpen’s had generators to sustain meal preparations and even watch the evening news to see the aftermath from the storm. We sat down and ate a bountiful meal of fresh zucchini, tomatoes, jalepeno poppers and beef from their own cattle feeling fully satisfied and stuffed with homegrown love.
No comments:
Post a Comment