Denisa and I went off with family yesterday to do a little exploring. The agenda was simple: head up to the Wire Bridge in New Portland, have a light picnic, and then come back home again. There were scattered thunderstorms forecast for the area, but it had been pretty hot, humid, and rain-free for the weekend, so we weren’t really worried.
On the drive up, I noticed heavy dark thunderclouds to the north, ripe with jagged bolts of lightning. “That looks . . . interesting,” I told Denisa. She concurred. But I’m not one to let a few clouds spoil a plan, so on we went.
The wire bridge was cool as always. You can get the whole thing swinging from side to side if you kick it just right with your feet. It’s like you’re on a huge swing, and it can make you motion sick really easily. After illustrating this principle, we went down to the picnic area to have some food. (Because nothing says “Let’s eat!” like motion sickness.)
Enter thunder, stage left.
We ate quickly–some of Denisa’s great bread, along with meat and cheese. But the thunder picked up, and it started sporadically sprinkling, so it was deemed a Good Idea to start packing up and heading out. We’d taken two cars. My father took everyone but Denisa, MC and me and headed off back to home base. Denisa needed to feed MC, so the three of us stayed behind.
And then things got crazy. Like, wind-ripping-through-the-trees, hail-coming-down-everywhere, garbage-cans-flying-through-the-air, torrential rain crazy. The clouds were swirling above us, and I couldn’t help wonder if there might be a tornado in the area (and it turned out there were tornado warnings, as a matter of fact . . . )
It was an interesting afternoon, but Denisa and I waited it out, and we managed not to get squished by any falling trees. Yay!
On the way home, we were soon stopped by firetrucks. A tree had fallen across the main road back to civilization. It had downed a power line in the process. The road was impassable, and was likely to remain such for quite some time. There was an alternate route, but it was on dirt roads and 20 miles out of our way. However, company was over, the kids were with said company, and so we decided to try the detour, despite the fact that we’d never driven there before. (This is how many horror movies begin. I understand why now.)
Off we went, using our trusty GPS and our trustier road map of Maine. We pieced together the route, and things were going okay. Sure, there was still End of Times lightning arcing across the sky, but that just set the mood. We were delayed, but okay.
And then we came to another downed tree in the middle of the dirt road. No firetrucks this time (but no power lines, either.)
Friends, there are times when you just accept what the universe is telling you. When you resign yourself to never getting home at a decent hour, and just decide to take a nap in the car.
This was not one of those times.
Denisa and I got out of the car in the middle of the storm, walked up to that tree (which was probably 1.5 feet in diameter at the base), and moved it.
That was the plan, at any rate. We managed to move the tip of it some. (Newsflash: trees are heavy. Even for librarians.) But no matter how far we moved it, it had a tendency to spring back into place. (Newsflash: trees are springy. Even for authors.) But if we gave up, that meant a long ride back to another downed tree. There wasn’t really a second detour option.
Drawing on herculean strength (and possibly the Powers of Greyskull), I held the tree back far enough for Denisa to get in the car and drive around it. Because what’s a Sunday if you don’t get to Hulk out once in a while?
We made it home. No one died.
What did you do on *your* Sunday? 🙂