It rained all night. I arranged with Mike to go for a run with him this morning, but now I don’t want to. I mention this to Chef. “Running in the rain is nice,” he encourages me. “Yes,” I reply, “when you can take a hot shower afterward and stay inside all day.” But I gave my word, so I put on a brave face and go to Mike’s tent. “You still up for a run in this weather?” I ask. He gives a little snort. “Maybe if there were roads,” he says, “but not in this mud.” I inwardly rejoice.
Many of us spend a good part of the morning in the RV. It’s the only place where one can be dry and stand upright or have a decent place to sit. We eat cereal and drink hot chocolate. Mike and I try to find a radio station on the RV’s radio so we can hear the forecast, but only one station comes in, and it’s playing only music — no news or weather or even transitions by a DJ. For a moment, Mike thinks the rain is letting up. Ten minutes later, it’s raining as hard as ever and he realizes his false optimism.
The kids are getting a little loud, and the RV is packed with eight people, so I return to my tent to hang out a while and read. I need to go to the bathroom, but I put it off as long as I can because of the rain and the mud. I think part of me hopes my body will somehow reabsorb the moisture so I won’t have to go anymore — or maybe that it will at least stop raining by the time I can’t wait any longer. As the rain is still falling hard and fast, I know these are delusions.
Precipitation continues until early afternoon, and I get stir-crazy in the RV where everyone in our group has again taken shelter. I must get out. Chef and I go to a movie, then return to camp for lunch. I take a nap and Chef goes fishing. Even though the rain is no longer falling, all the roads and campsites are what sister-in-law Kristie has dubbed “Mudfest USA.” It’s impossible to avoid the muck, but staying at camp won’t help my attitude. After dinner, we all go to the midway. Chef and I meander around to various stages, checking out the bands. We all meet back at the coffee tent where the others play a game of straws (because there are no spoons available) and I try to get more artistic with my photography, but my batteries are dying.
Back to camp and bed. Mike and Rita, who left this morning with three of the kids, took their air pump with them, so my air mattress isn’t very comfortable. Oh well. One more night. Teeth brushed, trip to porta-potty made, and I settle down for the night.