No scratchers for Val on Monday. The Universe ruled with an iron fist. Rain Sunday night through Monday afternoon. FIVE INCHES of rain. Probably more. That's just what the news reported.
I was hoping for the forecast break in the rain around 3:00. Then I'd be able to get to town for my beloved scratchers before the next wave, with possible tornados, rolled in around 8:30. Hick came home at 1:00 with his BIG SANDWICH that he's taking to the election with him Tuesday.
"You ain't goin' to town."
"Why? There's supposed to be a break in the rain around 3:00."
"Well. You MIGHT make it," said Hick as he put his sweatshirt in the dryer. "There's water on the gravel road along the creek, but you can get through. And down here at the bottom of my [badly blacktopped] hill, the little creek is over about 8-10 inches."
"And you drove THROUGH IT???"
"Yeah. That one ain't no problem."
I've driven through it with five or six inches of water on it. It's a little bridge, about six feet across. Hick was getting ready to leave for an auction around 3:30. I went to have my nap. The rain kept pouring down, even when I got in the shower at 2:30. I decided I was NOT going to town. If I had a problem, Hick would not be around to rescue me. I made him promise not to take his usual backwoods way to the auction, and instead take the interstate and the state highway.
I was pretty sad when I sat down at HIPPIE with a bowl of BBQ potato chips, and no scratchers. Then startled when I heard the dogs barking, and Hick came through the kitchen door.
"I ain't goin' NOWHERE! The water is over the big bridge now!"
That means we're trapped between two overflowing bridges, even if we make it down to the county blacktop road where Mailbox Row sits. Oh, and we didn't get any mail either! Anyhoo... there's a third bridge that would also be flooded, on our third option out. Leaving only one way, which takes us about 10 miles out of the way, to get on the interstate up by the state park. Even that's not for certain, because there's a little creek on it as well, which would most likely be flooded in a rain of this magnitude.
Hick got some pictures on his attempted trip to the auction.
That's the little bridge, on a usually dry creek that feeds into the main creek. Hick is parked at the bottom of his badly-blacktopped hill, and that's the main gravel road across the water. Taking a right turn there puts you on the main gravel road to get to Mailbox Row and the county blacktop road.
This is the main gravel road. As you can see, the creek has no concept of boundaries! WAY down straight ahead, you can see a portion of a vehicle sitting on the blacktop road, perhaps unsure what to do. I would suggest going back to your home that is between the two flooded bridges!
This is the concrete edge of the main bridge. Mailbox Row is out of picture frame to the right. Hick is parked on our gravel road, facing the way back home. In all the years we've lived out here, I have never seen this bridge flood! It was a replacement bridge for a low-water version that used to flood frequently. We thought we had it made until THIS!
To give you an idea how high this water is, I'll put a picture of the bridge during normal times.
That's the old bus-waiting shed, but you can see the creek and bridge behind it.
Don't you worry about Val. At least from the standpoint of flooding. I know not to drive into flowing water. My hillbilly mansion sits high on a hill, more tornado bait than a sitting duck for flooding. We can hear the creek roaring down behind the house, but it's never going to be high enough to even see it through the trees. If I'm absent from the Blogoverse, it's most likely due to the electricity going out.
Hick is hoping the water will go down enough overnight so he can get to his election judge duties by 5:30 a.m. on Tuesday.