It had been a hot week: in the 80s and humid, notable for November even for Central Texas. And of course, this was the cause of some excitement for us, as we had booked a camping spot at Garner State Park for the holiday weekend.
A balmy Thanksgiving on the Frio.
Our excitement was met by the advance of a huge cold front coming in from the Pacific Northwest. It was dropping snow up there, and it was supposed to drop the temperatures drastically at the park. They expected lows below freezing.
Yet weather reports what they are, the day of the front’s arrival slipped, and it turned out that as we drove into the west from our humble little neighborhood, it was still sunny and warm.
And we beat the cold front to the park.
To our great relief, the weather was still in the upper 70s when we pulled into camping spot #119. We wasted no time, because everyone at the park knew what weather was on the way. And it was due at any moment. So started setting up camp right away: our tent and our chairs and our stove and our camp kitchen and a comfortable place for Guinness (of course) to watch us as we did all this.
And by the time we had the tent up and all our affairs assembled (we are coming to see that we have too many such affairs), the weather had dropped into the 50s, and it was still getting colder. And the wind was now blowing hard, with small yellow Cedar Elm leaves swirling around us and racing down the hillside behind our tent out into the field.
Bonus, we figured.
You see, the two of us had each silently steeled ourselves to the prospect of setting up our stuff in the freezing, driving rain, not quite sure how we would take it if it came to pass. As it turned out, we had sweat running down our sides and were sitting in our folding chairs just as the temperature really began to fall.
And at least for that (and for so many other things) we were very thankful.