June 12, 2013
Morning Report: (Portland, Indiana) A relaxing morning, biding time at the Holiday Express and enjoying their ample breakfast before heading back to Fort Recovery. The museum doesn't open until 12-noon so there's no hurry to get the day started. Although, according to the weather channel, it might behoove me to hasten the end of any excursions today due to severe thunderstorms predicted for later, probably this evening; strong wind and hail is on the menu.
Return To Fort Recovery: I rode east under an increasingly cloudy sky, arriving a short time later across the state line at Fort Recovery to continue my exploration of St Clair's Defeat. I noticed Ohio's gasoline price is 3.89 per gallon while Indiana it is around 4.20, at least in Portland. According to Indiana news the temporary spike has to do with refinery issues. Whatever. I filled up in Ohio.
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| The State Line |
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| 13 Miles To Fort Recovery |
Video
I spent a few hours touring the museum, the fort and the brick-streeted town.See All About It: (Click the links)
THE TOWN
THE MUSEUM
THE MUSEUM BASEMENT
THE FORT
THE MONUMENT
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| Fort Recovery Museum |
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| The Fort |
The sky was a little darker on the ride back; the wind a little gusty. Mindful of tonight's predicted storm, I parked the Harley up close to a large maintenance shed at the corner of the back lot, within view of my window. It is handily positioned to block the wind and might also deflect any hail if it falls at a wind-directed-angle. I put the cover on the bike and stretched bungee cords underneath, cinching it down. That should do it.
Later: There was time to do laundry before supper. I obtained soap and dryer sheets at the front desk and entered the one-machine laundry room as a man was finishing up, hanging on hangers what appeared to be utility uniforms and clearing the dryer of the last of his clothes as he helpfully explained the controls to me.
I completed my laundry and walked to the Buffalo Wings And Rings restaurant across the parking lot where I'd eaten last night. They make a very good gyro sandwich and I figured to have another. I did. Ate on the covered patio, listening to the rumble of distant thunder while watching the sky grow darker. Occasionally, grape-sized rain drops exploded on the adjacent sidewalk and I chewed a little faster, thinking I should have brought my hooded rain jacket for the walk back. I was far from being drenched but scurried quickly, head down, into the turbulent wind.
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| Northwest Corner of Portland, Indiana |
Time passed. Background chatter from the weather channel caught my attention. Tornadoes were breaking out all around Chicago as several thunderstorms joined forces on a southeastward path. Ummm? Chicago is a long way from here, 212 miles according to Google Earth, and I'm right comfortable in my well-insulated room. Wouldn't even know a storm was brewing unless I looked outside, which I did and .... MAN OH MAN! ..... Lightening flashes revealed "white caps" in the parking lot. Somewhere in the darkness was the Harley but I couldn't see it. It was on its own. Wouldn't be surprised if the cover was sailing somewhere over Cincinnati by now.
An emergency alert sounded, drawing my attention back to the TV where I saw the scrolling words ... TORNADO WARNING ! And they weren't talking about Chicago anymore. Nope ... Jay County, wherever that is. I checked Google Earth and discovered it's RIGHT HERE! Instructions were to take shelter; stay away from windows.
I noted the time -- 11:30 p.m. and wondered if anyone else was still up? I stepped into the hallway and saw silent, trance-faced guests wandering about, reminiscent of the scene in the movie, Titanic, when confused passengers, in like manner, wandered the listing passageways of the doomed ship.
I recognized the guy from the laundry standing at the laundry door. He was down from the 2nd floor on orders from the desk clerk who was calling everyone on the upper floors to come to ground level, the safest place if we get hit by a tornado. He figured the windowless laundry room was a good place to hide.
The man was from Cookeville, Tennessee, here on business; working on commercialized air-conditioning units. I told him I'd done time in Cookeville, at the Harley shop a couple of weeks back, making us practically neighbors. We quickly bonded and he shared with me some updated knowledge from a weather "AP" on his smart phone. He pointed to three red triangles, saying each represented a tornado and the one on the bottom was 5 to 8 miles away traveling toward us at 16 mph. According to lighter shades of red fanning from the triangles, showing their projected path, the bottom one had us in mind. Not Good!
I wondered at what point I should go hide in my bathtub? Meanwhile, we strolled down the center hallway toward the front desk, observing others who shared our concern. Some folks were watching TV in the lounge where the word Tornado still scrolled. A band of young men, standing too close to the sliding glass entry doors, causing them to open and close automatically, whooped and hollered, daring one another to run outside and back whenever a burst of marble-sized hail hammered the breezeway. They were ordered to stay away from the door by the outnumbered desk clerk who was doing her best to minimize anxiety among the guests. Most stood about making small talk, a form of denial I suppose, for none seemed any too interested in the triviality of the conversations. All we could do was wait, hope and pray.
At the stroke of midnight the desk clerk (who was in apparent contact with local emergency services) gave us the "all clear" announcement, saying the upper floor guests could return to their rooms. But according to that guy's smart phone the red triangle was still headed our way? He left before I knew what became of us. I guess we're okay.
Weather Report (Video)
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