Sorry, this one is a little out of order. Back to the first night's camping.
The big thunderstorm came in after I had been asleep several hours. I stayed awake as long as I could, 11pm, watching as it got closer and closer. Diffuse bolts lighting up 1/4 of the western sky, and occasionally sky/ground or cloud/cloud bolts, huge and jagged and bright.
I put up the fly and crawled into bed. Wind had picked up considerably, so no difficulty with heat; temp was dropping as the front came closer. The rain started and brought me only slightly up from deep sleep, the pleasant feeling of being inside and dry while it is raining outside. In time the intensity of the storm increased, and I became fully awake. Though the tent was under the tree, on the lee side of the tree, the wind was fierce, shaking the fly and tent continuously, and bending the tent halfway to the ground during the most intense gusts. I kept waiting for the whole tent to collapse or blow away, but it sprang back erect between gusts like a real champ. (Thanks, Mike, Tracy)
In the morning, grass was already dry when I crawled outside. The upwind tent peg, triangular in cross section to resist bending, was quite deformed by the wind's pressure on the tent. But no sprung panels, no opened seams. Yay, little tent!
Oh the power of nature and how small it can make us feel. I think of your greater experience with the fury of mother nature while precariously anchored to a reef with Sandy in your small boat during a big blow.
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