Although our home on wheels is comfortable and cozy, every once in awhile Mother Nature sends an unpleasant reminder of the flimsiness of our humble abode. A strong gust of wind, like the puffing from the big bad wolf, remind us that we haven't a home of stick and brick. To feel your home rocking and to hear the echo of falling branches and dropping acorns (or pine cones) make it feel like we are trapped somewhere between the Hatfields and McCoys.
Yesterday, a strong tornado touched down about ten miles from where we were camping in Forest City, NC (Foothills Family Campground).
Fortunately, we were staying with our daughter Kayla at the time, but our thoughts were with our rig.
Early the next morning we contacted the camp ground and were told that there were branches down but no visible damage to any of the RV's. Whew, what a relief.
Signs of the severity of the tornado where evident as we passed row after row of downed trees and limp power lines. Hiking later that afternoon along the Broad River Greenway in Shelby, NC we encountered:
A washed out trail:
And...
Fortunately, my screams scared it away.