Wednesday morning, I felt well enough to go. Or at least I thought I did. I attempted, some household tasks, knowing that if I could manage those, I could at least make it through camp.
Having succeeded, I ventured out. I arrived at camp finding an unfortunate sight.
Everyone else had fallen ill the night before, and had spent themselves after an already rough night. Everyone was already exhausted. The boys were interested in little more than poking the campfire. My daughter wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and sleep. She was already done with the trip before I got there. I immediately became the cavalry, and really all I did was let the wife focus on the kids while I did the rest. The kids actually fell asleep before 11pm
Then the night fell. We heard countless thunderstorms to the south of us, and the sound of winds rushing in the distance. They all passed by. The wireless signal was patchy, allowing texts, but not much else. So of course I texted my brother and asked him to check the weather at camp. It was coming, and it was bigger than we expected.
So right at 11pm, the loudest crack of thunder I have ever heard tore the sky apart right above us. My wife jumped out of bed, losing her breath. The boys sat up, asking in no uncertain terms, "Why tonight, of all nights?"
My six year old daughter slept right through it. Like I said, she was done with the trip already, and the sky being torn apart above us wasn't going to bother her.
Meanwhile, the thin sheet of nylon separating us from the storm took care to remind us that we hadn't finished waterproofing (We waterproofed the *other* tent, and used what was left on the floor of this one, so yea..). The floor wasn't letting anything soak in from the outside, but the ceiling was less than forgiving.
By the time morning came, we almost gave up on the rest of the trip. Rather than quit, we took them out on the tiny lake. (The wife has an inflatable kayak, which was still in my car). Honestly that fixed it just enough.
Juuuuuuuuuuuuuuust enough.
