Aw shucks… a real hero would have gone back down to the park and helped others who couldn't tow their trailers out. But leaving in such a panic, I apparently bent our hitch. We were lucky to get out of there at all, and consider ourselves extremely fortunate. 

Yes, it got pretty scary. It's really amazing how quickly the water rises in these parts. Just a few hours earlier we had walked across a spillway path over to an island on the lazy Guadalupe river while staying at an RV park called "By The River" … the name should have been a hint. We were put at the end of the park which the manager later told us "always floods first."

When he showed up at about 10:00 p.m., he only suggested we "may want to hitch up and be prepared to leave" – a high water advisory was in effect until midnight. I figured we had plenty of time and decided to dump our sewer, not knowing where we might be in the morning. While doing so, I walked over to the river bank and noticed it was much closer The water was about 8' higher than it was, and only about 5' lower than our site. I poked my head in the trailer and told Rene, "Uhh… we might just want to leave now. Come check this out!"

Our pace hastened, we disconnected our power and water, and proceeded to get going. That's when we heard the sirens, saw the fire truck  and noticed emergency personnel suggesting we hurry up. A look over their shoulder showed the water about another two feet higher. Everything was fine, it was pretty exciting, but that was it. Then we couldn't hitch up.

This is when it really got scary. Multiple attempts to connect the trailer resulted only in a frightening clunk. Each time I jumped out to adjust the legs of the trailer up or down, there were more volunteers trying to help. One wearing a safety vest and helmet, diligently tried to calm down Rene. Another tried to assist me by holding our hitch plate level. Clunk. I panicked and tried to force the hook up. 

That's how I pushed the trailer legs off their blocks, causing the fifth wheel kingpin box to slam down on top of our truck bed rails. Doing my best to remain calm, it was clearly time to poop my pants. But no time for that. I wasn't leaving without our home. The water was another foot higher. I raised the trailer, pulled out from under it and started dismantling our hitch. I think that's when Rene really started freaking out. 

Deathly afraid that the hitch was broken, I confirmed it was functional and put it back together. One last attempt after adjusting the trailer height again – with the park manager holding the hitch, and me holding my breath – we connected, but it didn't feel like it. I knew something was wrong. The manager insisted he heard it click, and he must have. I was clearly out of my mind and the water was another foot hgher. We were on our way, just in time.

We joined dozens of other RVers up the hill in a church parking lot for the night. Walking down to survey the damage this morning, I noticed our site had clearly been under at least a couple feet of water. All the trailers did get out. Others upstream were less fortunate. (A couple people are still missing last we heard.) We consider ourselves very fortunate. Did I mention that? Jerry was looking out for us indeed.

Epilogue: As we pulled away this morning I noticed a trailer tire was low. Pulling away in hopes that we would find a service station soon, we immediately pulled into a tire shop right across the road. We had two punctured tires. When it rains it pours. Especially in Texas.