We shutdown the camp bringing shame to the caravan… (GA)

Pulling into our campsite after the party, I ran into a PVC hose bib, creating a mini-geyser. Water began to build rapidly and flow toward the neighbors and out on the road.

The campground office was closed so I went to Jamie’s rig – he who thought he was rid of us just minutes previous.

I was in luck; Marcia’s thank-you gift of a watercolor (ironic) apparently extended a protective shield to me, and Susan and I went to find the campground host. She identified herself and hesitating just briefly said that I had a leaky hose big. The host said he’d come check so I thanked Susan and road back with the host in his campground golf cart.

There we saw water still spraying and a good-sized lake, extending from my site to the neighbors. The neighbor, his spouse, and their teenage daughters—the daughters probably very bored until this point—were standing around trying to decide how bad things were going to be. The host sped off in his cart as I made small-talk with my neighbor, reminiscing about my days with a tent-trailer as he too has one. The lake now extended under his trailer and was moving toward their fire pit, and he made the comment he couldn’t find matches anyway. He was such a good sport I went and found him matches.

Then out of the dark two golf carts converged on the now comparatively quiet hose-bib, and five strangers to me gathered in the headlights to figure out what to do. This is when I learned the campground was now totally without water, creating some urgency. The five were actually having a good time, nothing much apparently having happened this season. One said it was too bad only Jim knew where to turn the water off, and they should do something about that. The others offered advice to someone (Jim?) on how to deal with the broken pipe, still flowing readily because the break was at ground-level making it the drainage point for the 100+ site campground. The one person that knew what he was doing made some lighthearted comment and the next thing I knew the thing was fixed; some kind of 3-second PVC glue that works under water. At least that’s what one of the don't-know-what-to-do guys told me.

I said goodnight to my neighbors, who were now enjoying their campfire, picked up some things around our site so they could dry out, and adjourned to my trailer. There I found Marcia intently playing computer solitaire, pretending in her way that she was no part of what had happened.