As the top of the bunk sways almost a foot either direction, and the legs feel like they're sliding and hopping, a low rumble, familiar sound. Rock slide. I know in my heart the shaking isn't because of the rock slide. It's an earthquake.
The other two jump out of their bags and run to the door. I realize I'm about to be buried in the bunk under a million tons of rubble, and figure that would really suck about now.
I jump up to run to the door.
Looking out just up from camp is the huge cliff falling down on us. Clouds of dust swirl in the moon and starlight down into camp. Dozens stand in various phases of undress shouting something that sounds a lot like Spanish for "which way do we run".
The dust swirls into camp, covering some outhouses, then stops. We're safe.
So I climb back into bed, where I'm treated to a series of aftershocks, but manage to sleep till morning, when I take this picture of the aftermath.
It was a lot more exciting looking in the dark. Not to mention how it felt. ;)
A blog post from Mountain Madness (the group I think is in the white tents to the far right) said there was a water line cut and other minor damage.
ReplyDeleteAMAZING! I was so worried about you when I heard about the quake. I bet that felt interesting to have the bunk moving that much!
ReplyDeleteYes, I was thinking that in general the steel frame of the bunk would probably protect me from other stuff in the dome, but when the rocks came down, I figured it might be safest to run. It was sixes there for a second or two.
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