Essay #14: Rainy Weather

Yesterday's evening forecast called for continuous heavy thunderstorms. Still, we decided to press our luck and visit the Cincinnati Zoo for its annual Festival of Lights. We prepared appropriately: waterproof boots, rain jackets, and three umbrellas. We also got there very early--at 3:30pm. We had the zoo nearly to ourselves the first hour and were second in line to visit Santa and Mrs. Claus. We were the first to purchase fried elephant ears--covered in caramel, chocolate chips, and whipped cream--from "Mrs. Claus' Workshop." The girls had no trouble reaching the handlers to pet the snakes. The crowds had picked up some by the time we left at 6:30, the lights beautiful against the night sky, but it never felt packed. The price we'd paid for a calm, warm evening at the zoo in December? Walking through some drizzle.

At this point, Jeremy and I take it as a point of pride that we're willing to gamble on rain for the sake of avoiding crowds. Perhaps our biggest win was during our vacation to Gatlinburg in the summer of 2022. We'd scheduled Saturday as our hiking day in the Great Smoky Mountains, but it poured all Friday night, and when we woke up, we were dismayed to see the day's forecast called for constant thunderstorms. We checked the radar repeatedly, and by the time we'd had breakfast and gotten dressed, the forecast showed a small break in the storms for the next hour or two. "Let's go for it," Jer said. We piled the girls in the car, grabbing our rain jackets, and headed out.

We'd chosen to attempt some of the park's most popular trails, including Chimney Tops, which I'm sure would have normally been overrun on a weekend during peak tourist season. Instead, we found ourselves hiking alone, enjoying the new water features created by the previous night's rainfall. The girls managed nine miles over three trails that day. The trails were wet, but it never rained.

This past summer, Jeremy and I vacationed in Scotland and spent three days hiking the West Highland Way. Of course, since it's Scotland, it rained every day, and since we had no wiggle room in our itinerary, that meant wet hiking. And, for the most part, I found I didn't really mind. The moors only seem right in a foggy mist.

To be sure, we've had a couple of our risks fail. There comes a point where rain is so intense that any kind of outside activity isn't really possible. But I like to remind myself that none of us are Wicked Witches, and we've nothing to fear from the rain.