Holy High Water, Batman!
The river I’m parked on rose to over 40 feet in some areas – 9 feet over flood stage. Many RVers in other parks were evacuated. We were lucky here, no one had to relocate. But a few of us, myself included, were given the suggestion to “pack up and be ready to move, just in case.”
Unlike my usual “panic like a lemming” mode, I didn’t sit inside waiting for the water to rise. Instead, I went out and took a bunch of flood pictures from the water’s edge. For you, my dear Kernutties, for you I braved Mother Nature’s destruction, risking life and limb, to get y’all some photos. You’re welcome.
Before you say, “Hey, wait a minute. Your photos usually stink”, you should know these came out pretty good. (I know, I’m shocked, too.)
I’m going to let all you City Slickers in on a little secret. Unlike the natural disasters I witnessed when I lived in a big city, I had free access to all areas of this one. No one stood guard. No areas were blocked off. In northern California the authorities would have had all areas cordoned off, guarded by officers with a nasty demeanor, at the ready to shoo you away like a pesky fly.
Yet another thing I like about small towns; they just don’t seem to panic. But maybe it’s just Texans.
As you will see in the better-than-usual photos, it was a lovely sunny day when the water rose. Believe it or not, it didn’t rain all that much here, but it did rain a lot upstream a couple days before. So much so, the dams up river had to let out water. This means flooding to areas like my little ol’ cow/chicken/oil town. The good news is we all get a day or two advance notice of the impending doom.
Without further ado… The Flood Photos
All I had to do in this small cow/chicken/oil town was shove some fellow looky-loos out of the way so I could get this shot. For you, dear Kernutties, for you.
This is a park (not the one I’m camped at) near the center of town that offers RV camping. Well, they did up until the flood last week. The RVers were evacuated shortly before the flooding took place. Their parking spaces were far below the submerged walkway pictured above.
This is just to the right of the submerged walkway. In the foreground of the above photo, there is a park bench slowly going under.
Here, the river was already over 37 feet high – six feet over flood stage. It crested around 41 feet.
Note the whirlpool in the photo. I almost got sucked in! Ok, not really. But gees, didn’t my photography skills just go up a couple notches?!
This is a nearby dam, with gates open, upstream of the flooded park in the above photos. The water here is 15 feet higher than usual.
I got a tour of the hydroelectric plant. It’s because I’m an intrepid reporter. I’m sure it had nothing to do with my being a smiling blond, showing up at hour eleven of a twelve-hour shift for two guys who’d spent the last eleven hours staring at only rushing water and each other. Nope, it was totally the intrepid thing.
The red flag indicates the dam gates are open and spilling water. It’s also an awesomely artistic photo, don’t you think? Yes, I took it!! Sheesh.
The nice men in the hydroelectric plant said I could walk across the rickety bridge if I wanted to. I didn’t want to. Especially after I tested it by pushing on it with my finger. One tiny push with one little finger and the whole bridge swayed like a drunk chick on free Margarita night at the local watering hole.
Nope. I’m not that intrepid.