Chris Denbow Posts

After boarding up the house, we left Cape Coral, Florida on Monday, October 7 at 12:30pm to escape from Category 5 Hurricane Milton. Interstate 75 north bound was already filled with fellow evacuees. It seems some have no sense of urgency during evacuations because no less than 30 times I am following a car in the left lane as they drive 10-15 mph less than the permitted 75mph. They would leave gaps in between themselves and the next car anywhere from 2 car lengths to 10 car lengths. Maddening!

Normally the drive from Cape Coral to Tampa would take 2 hours. This time it took 8. I had enough of I-75 and decided to divert west to the Suncoast Parkway parallel to the Gulf of Mexico. Thankfully, the governor had removed the tolls and we flew northwest through the big bend area of Florida…until we came to more stop/go traffic at various spots. There was a backup of 30 miles due to…something. There was another 30 mile backup for no reason. We tried to bed down a couple of times but only managed an hour nap in the car. This area was hit by Hurricane Helene not more than a week ago and the evidence was all around us. We pressed on to the rest of the rural Florida panhandle until we hit a massive rest stop west of Tallahassee. Technically, we were in the clear after a monotonous, frustrating 20 hr drive, having been awake for 30 hours and maybe 3 hrs sleep. After this, we raced to the Florida/Alabama border and began to feel even more at ease. While en route we drove through Milton, Florida just as hurricane Milton was geographically positioned below us in the Gulf. Haha, not today you don’t get us.

Having crossed Mobile Bay, and observed the U.S.S. Alabama battleship, we drove under the city through the Bankhead Tunnel and joined in with the other driver’s in the echoing song of car horns. All of us shared a smile through the windshields.

Tonight finds me on the Mississippi gulf coast line. No clouds, beautiful blue skies. We gorged on boiled and/or blackened shrimp, and fixings until we popped. After we have cleaned ourselves up, we stretch out onto a bed, finally, after two days.

Milton will arrive either Wednesday or Thursday between Tampa and Cape Coral. Evacuating our new home was a smart decision. I just pray that when we return, there will be minimal to no damage to it.

She’s asleep, now it is my turn.

Walking outside before an approaching hurricane can be a surreal and powerful experience. To safely immerse yourself in that moment while remaining mindful of the conditions, is something to appreciate.

As you spend some time outside, you can easily contemplate the immense power of the natural world. It will remind us of what we have ignored and should humble us.

This morning I observed several things, almost all at once. The drop in barometric pressure, the lower than normal temperature, the air blowing easterly being pulled West into the Gulf and powering the oncoming hurricane. The humidity thickens. This is a moment of anticipation and a palpable energy in the air. Nature is wild and untamable. It is hubris to think we can control it. I just wish I could control the headache and sinus pressure induced by this storm. Okay, blood pressure meds and ibuprofen consumed. Where was I?

The birdsong is gone this morning. The little lizards and the big reptiles are no longer visible. The burrowing owls and rabbits have probably stored their food underground and wait. So I observed on resilience and how we are connected to everything around us.

The canal water behind us flows faster and flows a yellowish-green murkiness. The sky’s colors shift from orange, purple then gray with a strange overcast. The palm fronds rustle in the breeze and hopefully the palm roots are getting a good grip below while they can.

The smells change too. Must be the brackish storm surge coming in from the ocean, up the river and into the canals. Then you can smell the salt air. I love that smell.

Later, when out and about, I can see the grocery, hardware and convenience stores packed full of cars and people as they try to stock up at the last moment. Cursing the stores, each other and the government, forgetting that the supplies were available, but not at the last minute. The steps taken ahead of time, have served us well.

The concerned people we visited with today over lunch, were doing just that. Panicked, frustrated, full of blame and generally scared. They did not understand why we were concerned, but not worried into a panic due to supplies. They were long-time residents here, we are not. They might have known better if they were honest with themselves.

This is my twelfth(?) named storm. That could be higher, I forget. But the calm before the storm is a chance for me to focus and calm myself in advance. There is nothing I can do to prevent a storm but I can do everything in advance to prepare for it.