The title pretty much sums up my weekend, but I think it also requires more details.
After loading up the car with camping gear on Friday afternoon, James and I left home to go camping for the weekend with my parents and siblings. There was a little confusion about getting to Lake Tawakoni State Park because I had neglected (for possibly the first time ever) to look up directions to the park. Less than a mile from home, James asked me if I had the directions. When I said no, he asked if we should return to get them. I said no again. I'm lucky we didn't get lost, or I would've felt like an idiot for saying that. With the help of Sara and Mandy by phone, we got to the campsite without a single wrong turn.
After setting up our tents, we all sat around talking by the glow of propane lanterns. Something moving beyond the tent pad caught my eye, and as I looked towards it, I saw a large tan cat (with a long tail) move silently behind my parents' tent. When I say large, I mean it was the size of a large dog or bigger. I freaked out (but didn't panic) and I told everyone that a mountain lion had just went behind their tent. It actually took a little while for me to convey that information, and by the time my dad went to investigate, there was no sign of it. My dad felt sure that I had seen a dog, and they proceeded to tease me about it. I never once doubted myself though--that was NOT a dog.
The next day when we had returned from fishing, my mom mentioned that they had seen tracks that looked like they could've belonged to a cougar. My dad was skeptical, so they went together to look at the tracks, and I asked my dad to take a picture on his phone so I could see. I finally felt validated when they returned with the picture, which showed a paw print about the width of dollar bill. Everyone seemed more inclined to believe me after that. After doing some internet research this morning, I now think the track was actually from a dog. However, I am now even more certain that I saw a mountain lion because I found out that they have been sighted in that area before. Most of my disbelief at what I had seen stemmed from not thinking that they inhabited that area.
So, yeah, fishing...
I woke up at 6am on Saturday to go fishing with my dad, my brother, James and our fishing guide. The weather was absolutely perfect, which was fortunate since the forecast had predicted rain. It was very overcast, warm enough for shorts, and cool enough to comfortably wear a thin sweatshirt. I have rarely been fishing since I was a little kid, so I didn't expect to catch many fish (if any). And I really didn't expect to have much fun trying, either. You might be wondering why I even went in the first place, huh? Regardless of why I went, I ended up having a really great time. It turns out that trying to catch fish is pretty fun. And it turns out that actually feeling a fish tug on your line is even more fun. And, reeling the fish in and seeing what you've got--that might be the most fun part. Granted, I think the reeling in part is only fun when you've caught the fish in the first place. It's annoying to be offered a "pity reel-in" by someone catching a lot of fish while you're having a dry spell. It feels similar to when someone is obviously letting you win a game of checkers after they've beaten you ten times in a row. I like to win fair and square or not at all.
My brother, Steven, caught the most fish. I caught seven. James caught five or six. My dad didn't keep count, but (according to Steven), he didn't catch as many as Steven did. James and I both had fun and agree that it's something we could do about every other year or so.
When we were back at our campsite that afternoon, my grandparents came over to visit for a while. Because of the predicted rain, James and I had bought a canopy to sit under to stay dry, and my mom and sister had assembled it while we were fishing. It certainly came in handy once it started to rain (and thunder), and my grandparents very smartly decided that they should leave before it got worse.
It definitely got worse. Much worse.
For a while the rain came and went and we managed to cook hamburgers and hot dogs over the campfire. Just as were we eating, the rain starting coming down heavily and the thunder and lightning increased. Then, as if the pouring rain, lightning, and thunder weren't enough, the wind started blowing so fiercely that our canopy lifted off the ground and would've blown away if we weren't all holding it down. We sat in our vehicles a while deciding whether to stay or go, and my parents (whose tent had blown over and become filled with water) decided to leave, and my sister decided to stick it out with James and me. We all crawled into our tents as soon as it got dark, and though I stayed dry and warm, I slept terribly because of the constant fear of being washed away by a flood or being struck by lightening. (The cougar was the least of my fears by then!)
In the morning, the rain had pretty much ceased to be anything more than an intermittent drizzle, and we undertook the lengthy process of drying stuff off as much as possible before packing it up. My dad called us while we were driving home to tell us that the Cowboy's practice facility had collapsed during the storm on Saturday, which we later saw on our way home. I see that building every day, so it was very surreal to see it lying in a heap this morning. We also saw many, many access roads that were completely flooded between Greenville and Rockwall on I-30. It kinda scared me that we were camping while this stuff was happening. I plan to take rain warnings more seriously in the future, and I feel lucky that discomfort and muddy stuff was as much as we suffered. I really don't want to repeat this camping experience!
(Sorry I don't have pictures. I didn't have my camera with me most of the time, and the three pictures I did take are crap.)
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