You would think it deserved a name, but alas, we have to settle for calling it Tropical Depression 1E. Doesn't really roll of the tongue, does it? It was bad enough to watch from the safety of a sturdy, concrete house, but I had to make an airport run, so I was right in the middle of it – driving.
The amount of water coming down would have done even a Texas thunderstorm proud. The drainage system could not handle the volume of water and the streets quickly became rivers. I felt fairly comfortable when I left the house. Although Zaragoza was flowing, it wasn't too bad. The water was only coming about five inches up the truck tires, just barely high enough to be touching the actual wheels. And we have an Explorer that has had the suspension lifted and has large all-terrain tires, just for this type of situation. I made sure I was wearing plastic shoes and set off. Little did I know I was only seeing the beginning of the storm.
As I drove down Zaragoza, the water got a little deeper, but no too bad. The only real problem was all of the water flowing over the surface of the road. The visual movement toward me while I was driving was dizzying and disorienting, so I resolved not to look at it. That sorta worked.
Then I made my first tactical error. I turned left on to Belisario Dominguez. I wasn't really thinking. That is the route I normally take when going to the person's house who I was taking to the airport. The street started going downhill, and the water got deeper as runoff came from side streets to settle there. By the time I got near Aleman, the water was touching my bumpers and there was nowhere else for me to go. I just concentrated on keeping my foot on the gas to keep positive pressure in the exhaust system and climbing out of the water. Perhaps the next modification to the truck will be a snorkel.
As I drove onto Aleman the water receded and things were fine again. I went and picked up my friend and we headed back down Aleman to get some gas and head on to the airport. I had enough gas to get to the airport and back, but just. If there was an accident or some other traffic snarl, I wanted to be prepared.
Going back down Aleman was a big mistake. In the short time it took me to pick up my friend the water level had risen a lot. It was almost as bad as Belisario Dominguez had been, with an added complication: buses. They were still out making their regular rounds, and they created huge wakes. A wake came washing against the truck and it started to float. I had enough. I called Chuck to tell him I was coming home.
I couldn't reach him. The phone was busy. Bare seconds after I hung up, the phone rang. It was Chuck demanding that I come home. He didn't care what I had promised my friend. He wanted me home. I smiled and didn't tell him I was on my way anyway.
I started back toward my house, choosing the highest roads available. All of the billboards along Olas Altas were down, and rocks skittered off of Ice Box Hill, landing in the road around me. On Belisario Dominguez (the South end is much higher than the North end) I had to negotiate around a downed (but not live) power line. I turned on Zuniga and got close enough to taste home, but the way was blocked by a large uprooted tree. I tried to divert onto Benito Juarez, but a building had come down, crushing the front of a bus and blocking the road.
i was finally able to pick my way around, finding high streets that ran the direction I needed and were not closed. When I turned on to my block it looked badly beaten.
The building diagonally across the street from us is three stories tall and all of the windows are made of glass louvers. The wind came whipping straight down Zaragozsa from the East and launched those louvers in rapid succession like murderous frisbees. Fortunately, no one was hurt, but some of the glass landed in our garage, which is 60 feet away.
Chuck came out to greet me, and my friend and I came into the house, which was still standing and without damage. The courtyard, on the other hand, was a mess. The water was lapping at the doorway to the kitchen and bedroom. There were branches from the mango tree two doors over everywhere. The umbrella had snapped a rib before Chuck could get it down.
I waded out to survey the damage. Several plants were laying flat on the ground. The covers had blown off the washer and dryer and they were soaked. Nothing was where it was supposed to be. The wind has carelessly rearranged everything into its own chaotic pattern.
The rain stopped, and the water in the courtyard receded quickly. No water ever came into the house. We called the airline to see if the planes were flying. Surprisingly, the flights were all running on time. I was pretty much done with this adventure, so Chuck volunteered to drive to the airport. He was already kicking himself for not insisting to be the one to go in the first place.
I waited for Chuck and cleaned up and taped together my glasses which had broken during the drive when I tried to take them off to wipe away water – icing on the cake.
When they got to the airport, the planes were indeed arriving and departing on time. But they didn't make it in time, so my friend rebooked for the next day and came back to the house. We got her to the airport on time and on her flight today.
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|SAdministrator |m-d-Y H:i:s jenniferWow, the pictures of those old trees laying there with all of their roots in the air are something. Mazatlan lost a lot of old trees in that storm, including one of my favorites at Parque Zaragoza.
Thanks for sharing the link.
Overcast 75 oF • 24 oC
There's some good photos in a slideshow of the bad destruction wrought around town by this storm, online at the Noroeste website:
Deja tormenta destrucción en Mazatlán