Crikey. That was some kind of storm. When I first saw it tracking across the radar on NOAA, it looked small and mean, like a drunk little man itching for a bar fight. Lots of red in the centre of the blob moving across the screen, tracking right toward Toronto. And red never bodes well. I started getting nervous when Environment Canada began issuing Severe Thunderstorm warnings. Then I read about tornado warnings on another site. By the time the storm hit, we were all huddled in the aft berth hanging on for dear life. The wind was whipping the canvas right off the boat and all I could see out the window was white spray. In my mind, we were goners. Certainly a mast would come crashing across our bow when the tornado hit. Or the dock would fly through the air with the boat still attached, tossing us upside down in the middle of the lake, trapped and dramatically dead. I started composing my own tragic yet flattering eulogy. I honestly can't remember the last time I was scared of weather except driving through a very serious snowstorm in the Rockies in a tiny little Honda. During a lull, which I perceived to be the eye of the storm, I called our driver Fekadu, packed up the dogs and we got the hell out of dodge, favouring our odds on land. And what do you know, we survived.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Holy Heck Toto, Hang on Tight
Crikey. That was some kind of storm. When I first saw it tracking across the radar on NOAA, it looked small and mean, like a drunk little man itching for a bar fight. Lots of red in the centre of the blob moving across the screen, tracking right toward Toronto. And red never bodes well. I started getting nervous when Environment Canada began issuing Severe Thunderstorm warnings. Then I read about tornado warnings on another site. By the time the storm hit, we were all huddled in the aft berth hanging on for dear life. The wind was whipping the canvas right off the boat and all I could see out the window was white spray. In my mind, we were goners. Certainly a mast would come crashing across our bow when the tornado hit. Or the dock would fly through the air with the boat still attached, tossing us upside down in the middle of the lake, trapped and dramatically dead. I started composing my own tragic yet flattering eulogy. I honestly can't remember the last time I was scared of weather except driving through a very serious snowstorm in the Rockies in a tiny little Honda. During a lull, which I perceived to be the eye of the storm, I called our driver Fekadu, packed up the dogs and we got the hell out of dodge, favouring our odds on land. And what do you know, we survived.
