It has been an interesting few months for us since Hurricane Helene visited our community in the mountains of Western North Carolina. We were up here at our home / studio during the hurricane and remained up here for 1 week after the storm.
As we slept through the night of September 26th & into the morning of the 27th, During the storm on the night of September 26 & into the morning of the 27th, the winds howled like a freight train, and the rain battered the roof with an intensity that seemed to shake the very foundation of our home. We could hear the trees creaking and swaying outside, and each gust brought a wave of anxiety as we worried about potential damage. Despite the chaos outside, we slept through the night not thinking too much about the raging storm. Little did we know the profound effect that it would have on our lives for months to come.
On the morning of September 27, as the first light of dawn began to brighten the sky, we were greeted with the, not too surprising, realization that there was no power in our home. This was not an entirely unfamiliar situation, as we had faced power outage before, the longest being during the last hurricane in 2021, which lasted only 20 hours. However, with no clear indication of when power might be restored this time, we knew we needed to act quickly and efficiently to make our home as comfortable and functional as possible.
Our first priority was to get some lighting. Thankfully, I had stocked up on a variety of battery-powered solutions, anticipating potential power disruptions. We quickly accessed our collection of battery-powered fairy lights and Coleman lanterns. These lights, though small, cast a warm and comforting glow throughout the house and they don't need electricity. In addition to these, we gathered all the flashlights we could find scattered in various locations around our home, studio, and Lance's shop building. They proved invaluable for navigating the darker areas of our home, studios and yard.
With the lighting situation under control, our next focus was on food and cooking. Fortunately, I had invested in a large camping stove during the previous hurricane. This trusty stove became our culinary lifeline, allowing us to prepare hot meals without electricity. The stove was an essential tool, ensuring that we could still enjoy hot coffee in the mornings and warm dinners in the evenings.
With our coffee made and some food in our bellies, I sat out on our covered front porch, watching the rain continue to fall. The hurricane force winds whipped through the trees, bending them back and forth like dancers in a chaotic ballet. Despite the fierce beauty of the storm, Willow, our usually adventurous dog, refused to venture outside. She had remained huddled inside since the storm began raging the previous night, her instincts keeping her safe and dry.
Suddenly, a loud crack pierced the air, and one of the trees in front of our tiny house gave way, crashing down onto our driveway. The sound was both terrifying and awe-inspiring, a reminder of the raw power of nature. I barely had time to process the fallen tree when another loud crack echoed through the air. My heart skipped as I watched another tree begin its descent, only to freeze mid-fall, suspended as if held by an invisible hand.
On the other side of our tiny house, a massive waterfall had formed, cascading down with a relentless energy that matched the storm's intensity.
On one of my trips to the bathroom, I noticed the mat by the back door was very wet. It was alarming to see water pouring in beneath the back door and along the entire backside of our house. The rain wasn't just a gentle patter—it was a relentless downpour that quickly raised the water level around our house, creating a pressing danger of flooding the tiny house.
Realizing the situation was only going to worsen, Lance went out to brave the torrential downpour, grabbed a shovel and began digging a trench along the back and one side of our tiny home. This makeshift canal was crucial in redirecting the water away from our house, preventing further damage.
Once the immediate danger had passed, we faced the daunting task of cleaning up the water that had already made its way inside. It took us a couple of hours to mop up and dry out our tiny space. Despite the chaos, we couldn't help but feel grateful. Had we not been home at the time, our tiny house could have been completely flooded. Oyvay & Thank God we caught it in time.
The storm had been fierce, but by 1 PM that day, it had finally dissipated, leaving behind only a fine mist of rain. With the skies clearing, we decided it was time to inspect the property for any potential damage. Our first stop was my studio, which, to our relief, remained unscathed by the storm's wrath.
As we continued our walk, rounding the corner of the studio building on our way to Lance's shop, an unexpected scene unfolded before us. The storm had taken a significant toll on our loop road, with a landslide causing extensive damage. Our camper trailer lay destroyed, a victim of the storm's relentless force. A few of our belongings had been swept down the bank, carried away by the rushing water, and a huge chunk of the bank itself had vanished.
Approaching Lance's shop, we could see that a large tree had fallen, its trunk and branches puncturing holes in the one are of the roof. The damage had allowed rainwater to seep into one section of the building, forming small pools on the floor. Despite the shocking scene, we felt a deep sense of gratitude. The damage, though significant, could have been far worse given the storm's intensity.
In the aftermath of the storm, we were reminded of the resilience of our surroundings and our own capacity to endure and rebuild. Although the road would need repair, our camper trailer replaced, and Lance's shop roof fixed, we were thankful that the damage was limited to material things. The storm had tested us, but it had also strengthened our resolve and appreciation for what truly matters.
After we checked our place for damage, we decided to stroll up to our neighbors' houses on Bear Wallow Rd to see if everyone was alright. As we made our way up the back road, the first thing we noticed was some small landslides, fallen trees, and rocks scattered everywhere on the way to our neighbor Meghan Weber's house. The mud that I, along with Willow (our dog) and Lance, were walking through felt just like quicksand.
We knocked on Meghan's door, and when she opened it, she was overjoyed to see us. She had a generator running, so she had electricity and was comfortable, with plenty of food and the ability to cook. Meghan gave us a list of people to contact, just in case we managed to phone or email someone. As we made our way down the road, we had to navigate through a couple more landslides and debris before reaching our friend Kay's home.
We found very little damage on her property, just a couple of downed trees that barely grazed the rain gutters on one corner of her house. We decided to borrow Kay's ATV so that we could drive out for help if needed. After checking out Kay's place, we loaded Willow into the ATV and continued down Ogles Gap Road to assess the condition of the roads and bridges after the storm. We were completely shocked by the devastation we encountered overnight. As we began heading up Mountain Laurel Road, we discovered that the culvert bridge crossing the creek was gone, preventing us from crossing. So, we turned back to Ogles Gap Road to continue our journey down.
The first home we passed after Mountain Laurel was the Disney cabin. Lance went up to their front door to check on Vickey and Lori. They were safe, and their cabin had not sustained any damage. They had little food and water, and they could use the wood stove to heat up both. We collected their contact information and informed them that we would bring more food and water down for them later.
When we reached the intersection of Ogles Gap Road and Tennis Court Road, we decided to explore Tennis Court Road to see how far we could go. However, we didn't get very far—only a few hundred feet—before we encountered an area that had been washed out by a small creek that had grown into a sizable creek during the storm. There was no way to cross it. So, we turned back to the intersection and continued down Ogles Gap Road.
Once again, we hadn’t made it very far when we encountered another large gully caused by the flooding of the creek that had destroyed the Mountain Laurel Lane bridge. Oy vey! At this point, we realized that everyone on Ogles Gap Road had no way to drive out, and since most of the people here were unable to hike, we were in quite a predicament.
As we were assessing the damage, Ron Nyegard, a neighbor who lived between the two creeks on Ogles Gap, approached us. He was very distressed about the situation we were facing. He had two horses, a pig, two dogs, and a number of chickens on his property. Ron was especially concerned about not having enough hay to feed the horses until we were rescued. We offered him hugs and encouragement, assuring him that we would help with whatever he needed.
We tried to drive along Old Sawmill Rd but we quickly realized that there was so much debris from fallen trees and landslides that we would not be able to get the ATV to our property. We returned Kay's ATV back to her house since we could not get to our house or down the mountain for help since Old Sawmill, Ogles Gap & Tennis Court roads were impassible at this point.
After wandering around for a few hours, we realized it would soon be dusk, so we decided to head back home. However, we made a stop at Pat Archer's house on our way back up Ogles Gap Road to check on her. Lance attempted to get her generator running, but unfortunately, he had no luck. Being diabetic, she had nowhere to keep her medication cold. She had food but no way of heating it since she had no electricity. We planned to check on her again the following day.
So we bush-wacked through all the debris along Old Sawmill Rd and discovered that the little creek crossing that we had along our road had also turned into an impassible crossing. We did carefully cross with Willow, our dog, who was not to happy about that particular crossing....but we made it and reached our home safe and sound. We were covered in mud and definitely wet.
We managed to pull out our generator from my studio and get it plugged into the emergency electrical outlet that we had installed 8 years ago. We then had back power to our tiny house for lights, a water pump from our well, and a refrigerator. We were able to cook up a nice hot meal using our large camping stove. We were very comfortable for the night. We packed it in at 8:00 pm and went to bed.
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