René recently cut out another quote and taped it inside our bathroom cabinet door:
“At its core, adventure is the willingness to commit to an uncertain outcome with and open heart and an open mind.”
I don’t know where she got that one or who said it, but her timing is impeccable as it certainly applies to our latest adventure.
Had we known of the uncertain outcome that awaited us at By The River RV Park in Ingram, Texas, alongside the lazy Guadalupe River, we might have left after our first night. But who would have thought this pretty park could be covered in water within the next 24 hours? And after nearly three years on the road, we’ve come to expect the unexpected. Without such an outlook, panic may have set in even earlier than it did the other night.
No, that first photo is not a picture of the park. It’s just where we ended up spending the night, along with all the other rigs from the park, which is a very good thing considering how events of the evening unfolded …
Earlier in the day, we had walked across a spillway path over to an island on the river across from the park. It’s where they allow tent campers – of which there were none, fortunately – and the path was clear of water. We later took the short drive to nearby Hunt, TX to see Stonehenge II – noticing along the way various river crossings that would clearly become impassable with the slightest rise of the river. A sign of things to come. Later that night, three people would be washed downstream after trying to cross the river there. One has yet to be found, another spent most of the evening up a tree crying for help.
Upon returning to the park, I noticed only an inch or so of water covering the path we had walked. That would soon change.
At about 10:00 p.m., the park manager showed up only suggesting that we “may want to hitch up and be prepared to leave” – a high water advisory was in effect until midnight. I figured we had plenty of time and decided to dump our sewer, not knowing where we might be in the morning. While doing so, I walked over to the river bank and noticed it was much closer.
The water was about 8′ higher than it was, and only about 5′ lower than our site. I poked my head in the trailer and told Rene, “Uhh… we might just want to leave now and beat the rush. Come check this out!”
Our pace hastened, we disconnected our power and water, and proceeded to get going. That’s when we heard the sirens, saw the fire truck and noticed emergency personnel suggesting we hurry up because, “This end of the park floods first.”
Gee, thanks for letting us know now, I thought.
A look over their shoulder showed the water about another two feet higher. Everything was fine, it was pretty exciting, but that was it. Then we couldn’t hitch up.
This is when it started to get scary. Multiple attempts to connect the trailer resulted only in a frightening clunk. Apparently I had bent something while trying to hook up in such a hurry. Fearing the damage was permanent and we would be forced to leave the trailer, Renee scrambled to determine which belongings we absolutely needed to grab and I remembered something I learned when getting SCUBA certified: Panic = Death.
Each time I jumped out to adjust the legs of the trailer up or down, there were more volunteers trying to help. One wearing a safety vest and helmet, diligently tried to calm down René. Another tried to assist me by holding our hitch plate level. Clunk. I panicked and tried to force the hook up.
That’s how I pushed the trailer legs off their blocks, causing the fifth wheel kingpin box to slam down on top of our truck bed rails. Doing my best to remain calm, it was clearly time to poop my pants. But no time for that. I wasn’t leaving without our home. The water was another foot higher. I raised the trailer, pulled out from under it and started dismantling our hitch. I think that’s when René really started freaking out.
I quickly confirmed the hitch was still functional and put it back together. One last attempt after adjusting the trailer height again – with the park manager holding the hitch, and me holding my breath – we connected, but it didn’t feel like it. I knew something was wrong. The manager insisted he heard it click, and he must have. I was clearly out of my mind and the water was another foot hgher.
Side Note: Old time RVers throughout our travels have more than once made the same comment one fireman did as we waited for our trailer’s legs to retract: “Are those things moving?” he said. The Arctic Fox may indeed have the slowest retracting legs in the RV industry. But this time it seemed to take an eternity. With water lapping at our site, we were on our way, just in time.
We joined dozens of other RVs up the hill in a church parking lot for the night, hoping the trailer wouldn’t fall off, wondering if we would be able to unhitch. As more continued to show up, one frantic woman asked if I had a fifth wheel. She said someone needed help getting their trailer out because they had no way to pull it. My heart shrank as I had to say no. Our Pullrite Superglide requires a kingpin adapter to function without damaging the hitch and/or trailer.
Walking down to survey the damage the next morning, I noticed our site had clearly been under at least a couple feet of water. All the RVs and trailers did get out, some with their sewer hoses draped over their bike racks. Others who left theirs behind. With only our end of the park truly getting flooded, we feel very fortunate to have our home with us. We moved on to a park down the road a in Bourne called Top Of The Hill RV Resort, thinking we might need to be there a while waiting for hitch parks. But upon further investigation, the damage done was nothing a few whacks from a hammer couldn’t fix.
Epilogue: As we were leaving the morning after, I noticed a trailer tire was low. Pulling away in hopes that we would find a service station soon, we immediately pulled into a tire shop right across the road. We had not one, but two punctured tires.
I guess when it rains, it really does pour. Especially in Texas. After all the excitement, I did little math and calculated that the river was rising a foot every five minutes. That may not sound all that fast, but consider the gentle slope of the terrain and it’s easy to imagine that flood approaching like an incoming tide – we don’t need to, we were there!
24 thoughts on “Saved From Yet Another Unexpected Adventure”
Wow, how terrifying! I was compelled to read your entire post because I wanted to make sure that you got your home out ok. We’ve traveled to many unfamiliar destinations and keeping an open mind, a calm spirit, and not being tied to a specific outcome have made all the difference between having a crappy day and an adventure. I’m glad you have a happy story to tell.
Wow, what a story! My father’s house was flooded by the same river, but in Canyon Lake, a few years back. Your adrenaline must have been pumping like crazy!
It’s such a pretty place and so prone to flooding! We’ll still go back though, we love the Hill Country.
Oh my word! And, not one word of this in your recent email to me. LOL I’m sure that had to be a really scary ordeal for you. Thank goodness you made it out OK, and it’s a very good thing you stopped at that tire shop when you did. Lucky indeed! Now you know why I say “Texas isn’t really the place for me.” Love, Blazer, Kitty Kimber & Vicki
Man, I can picture Rene’s face in that situation now….
Good Times to look back on, glad it turned out well.
Jebus! I missed this story. Yeah, Texas weather can and will come right out of nowhere and set your house in another county.
So glad to have met y’all at the NuRVers! Will look you up on the way to Canada.
Welcome to Texas 🙂
Seriously though, I am glad everything worked out. What a stressful situation.
Looks like you guys passed us. We are camped at http://www.cavernsofsonora.com where we will spend the summer being cave tour guides.
I hope those storms yesterday didn’t give you too much trouble.
Yikes, how scary! Glad you guys are OK. When are you headed back to CO?
Jesus, Mary and St Joseph … I guess it’s true that God watches over dogs and drunks. This theory has worked wonders in my life (and we’re dog-less).
We’re EVER so grateful you guys made it out OK.
You me laugh Mr. Crawford.
Thanks to everyone for all your comments!
Oh holy dawgs! I’m glad you made it out ok and didn’t flood or worse, lose your home!
wow, I can only imagine the fear when you had to start deciding what was worthwhile to save or pack up. By that time you probably had to fight or flight. Glad to hear you guys got out of their unharmed. Flash floods are no joke.
Yikes — I thought this was a travel blog, not a mystery/suspense novel! That one sure got my heartbeat racing, despite knowing you must have made it out alive since you posted the story. Hope you’ve had a more relaxing time since. Yep, a river rising a foot every 5 minutes is not unheard of in Texas. I saw that happen in the streets of Houston once! So glad all ended well — I’m unclear what the “learning” is here, other than to repeat your mantra: “Panic and die — stay calm and live”
C&B, as someone who has an Arctic Fox fifth wheel, I knew you’d appreciate that misadventure story. I’m still trying to tell myself I love my fifth wheel but at that moment I was desperately wishing we had a Class A that we could quickly drive away!
Oh my! I’m so glad you made it out safely with your RV.
Being a native of central Texas I know about flash flooding that can occur.
Glad everyone is ok.
Thanks for all the comments! We feel very fortunate indeed to be able to look back on this as just another near miss.
@wil Sounds like you can totally relate!
I was stressed out reading about what happened! I know Rene had to have been frantic. I’m glad you made it out safetly. Sam and I know about when it rains, it pours. We’ve had things happen in groups also.
What an experience…I’m so glad it ended without serious consequences.
Been there, done that, almost seized the bearings! Got out of a riverside park in northern Florida on the way down to Baton Rouge this past Fall about 20 minutes before it was too late. As it was, drove out about 250 yards in a foot of water. High enough to wash out enough axle grease that I subsequently had a hot bearing on the trailer. Just glad it wasn’t worse for you than it was.
Oh, My gosh, that was a narrow one!
Ingram is supposed to be such a great place in The TX Hill Country, you must have been in a valley.
Rising waters have such a great current that they can knock you off your feet and sweep you away in an instant. Many people think they can cross them, and don’t make it.
I am so glad that you made it out alright.
Happy Trails, Penny, TX
WOW. Made my heart skip a beat when I read “then we couldn’t hitch up”. Glad you guys made it out of there safely!