A microburst of rain in the mountains flooded our river and caused it to jump the bank and flood our road. We live on a hill and were never in danger.
My biggest adjustment to living in the mountains (besides sluggishly slow internet) is to understand and respect the dynamic nature of the rivers. They trickle, flow and rage, even when it’s pleasant in the valley. This is very different from coastal living where what you see is what you get.
When I went out to run errands, I noticed the river was high and decided to curtail my activities and head back home.
Houseguests were headed this way when I heard the road was impassable. I went down to have a look and saw rushing water flowing over the road and filling the field. I started making phone calls: an initial heads up, then hourly updates. I made good use of the extra alone time and kept working on my quilt.
When the water receded, we waited to see the damage to the road. We got out some shovels and leveled a passable path. Our neighbors improved the job with a tractor and the town finished it off the next day.
Wow! At least you didn’t lose a bridge this time(?).
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