What Severe Weather Means for Us

I don’t think about big bad weather unless it’s right on top of us, so I’ve never written about it in general. After OG blogger Mark asked me about it (several times, sorry, dude!), I realized it’s been a bigger factor in our lives than I thought. So, here’s a retrospective of weather we’ve ridden out, run from, suffered damage from, and overall freaked out about. And by we, I mean me, seeing as how Tracy does not freak out.

Tornadoes

I’ll cut to the chase here: I worry about tornadoes 10/10 whereas tornadoes are a real threat to us 0/10. Tracy says it’s because I have no tornado experience, having grown up in Virginia. It’s true: as soon as the weather starts to look threatening, I look at the campground map we keep on our fridge for something like a bathroom or the camp office so I can shelter there in a pinch. Then I start to worry: How will we get Banjo in a small space with other campers’ dogs? I leave that one to Tracy, who doesn’t worry. He handles things when they need handling.

At a campground on a lake in northern Wisconsin one summer, our storm-spotting camphost warned us severe storms were coming and said that he’d ride through the campground with his siren blaring if we needed to shelter. 

In prep, we went through our standard pre-storm routine. We shoved all our outside detritus into the truck bed; I filled a backpack with my wallet, extra clothes, and a few favorite things; and Tracy forced Banjo outside for a final pee. Then we did what all campers do: we sat beside the trailer to watch this sucker.  

No siren that night and no need to hit the shelter. You can bet your bottom dollar that after we went inside for bed, I stayed awake listening, though. 

In Michigan one summer we were rounded up by a park ranger and told to shelter in the bathrooms. Of course I went right away and stayed for the whole warning. I entertained myself by admiring  a well-behaved scout troop and watching all the dads compare weather apps.

Tracy stayed in the trailer with Banjo and watched his chosen weather predictors. I’m thinking no one is better at finding reliable data and interpreting it than an economist. He trusts himself here. This is what he was doing for me when I gave up the storm-sheltering ghost and returned.

What happens when we’re boondocking and there’s nowhere to shelter? 

I freak out, is what happens. I pack that bag and lie awake all night looking at the radar and warnings on my many weather apps. Tracy snores.  He figures we’re either fine or we’re toast, and either way he’s not going to lose sleep over it. 

Hurricanes and Wildfires

These we know about in advance enough to reroute to avoid them. We’ve been kicked out of campgrounds on the Gulf Coast as hurricanes threatened, and we’ve had police tell us to move in Montana when fires were close enough that they didn’t want to have to keep track of us on top of their other tasks. 

In Alaska we waited out a fire then were led through its remains by a pilot car. That shook us both up.  

Winds 

This is the one severe weather that’s actually caused us harm. For example, high winds have killed the tent.

Persistent wind has worked at the struts that attach the solar panels to the trailer roof, so periodically (like, three days ago), Tracy inspects them and reseals those suckers.  One could go flying off while we’re driving down the road, no joke.  

Which leads me to the kayak debacle. I would make a few jokes here, but Tracy will be forever upset that he didn’t get to take his beloved kayak on the many clear lakes we camped by in Alaska.  Suffice it to say that on our way there, high winds in Oklahoma and Kansas pushed the kayaks so hard, the rack mount got dislodged.  We discovered this one travel day when we heard a huge thump, and I saw the nose of my kayak hanging down by my window in the truck. Seriously. 

We pulled off the road immediately. I mean, it’s dangerous to do that, but the fear of a kayak flying off and bouncing against the Airstream then into traffic is appropriate incentive. 

We secured it for the moment then found a handy empty church parking lot. Now, this was in really high winds. I could barely open the truck door to get out. Somehow we managed to get both kayaks off, and inside the trailer Tracy made some calls and watched videos and then fixed the racks enough for the next stretch. Getting the kayaks back up there though was one of the toughest physical things I’ve ever done. At one point I said, “I cannot do this,” and Tracy said, “Then we’ll leave them by the side of the road.” And I rallied.  

We were lucky to make it to his friend’s house in Iowa and leave them there, then we grabbed them after the Alaska trip when Tracy had figured out how to fix them completely (we hope).

That day when my kayak showed up in the truck window was the closest we’ve gotten to true disaster, and it drove home the point that we’re basically on our own out here. When the shit hits the fan, we have to deal with it ourselves.  

Heat, Cold, Flooding

For a topic I hadn’t thought was a big deal, I sure have a lot to say. I’ll summarize these without any stories so this post doesn’t turn into a book itself. 

Heat and cold are tough for us because trailer insulation sucks. I mean, most trailers are built for use in fair weather, and that’s where we want to be anyway.  There are instances, though, when we’ve had to be in crappy climates, like right now in Houston in the summer.  We have small hacks we do to improve conditions inside the trailer, but the goal is to get back on the road, to where the climate suits our clothes.

Flooding is like hurricanes for us in that we change travel plans to avoid it, and once or twice we’ve had to pack up and move. No big deal though.

Floods make for interesting kayaking, I can tell you what.

Lighting

It’s true that being in the trailer during a thunderstorm is extra exhilarating. The rain is wonderfully loud on the aluminum roof, and lightning flashes across the skylights and the wrap-around windows.  It’s also true that we’re a big lightning rod in some settings.

Tracy brings down the cell signal booster or the Starlink antenna, and then we sit back and watch. What else are we gonna do? Tracy’s response to me worrying is, “That’s why we have insurance.”