That said, I did not give much thought to setting up my tent next to a trickle of a creek when I arrived at my Asheville home. With the sun as hot as it was and the creek as low as it was, what was the worst that could happen?
Fortunately, that was as high as the water got during that storm. Unfortunately, this was information I wouldn't be privy to until after I'd already run out in the downpour to move my tent and all the gear within up onto a covered porch. Better safe than sorry, I sometimes say.
Oh, wait, I think I figured the rain out. It's not the mountains, it's the hippies. Those hippies aren't going to wash themselves, so if the clouds didn't do it, Asheville would be one smelly city. Might get bad enough to stink out all of Appalachia. This would explain frequency, duration, and volume of the rainfall. It's just a natural shower.
I am a genius.
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