Rochester Motel’s Silicon Line Gauges Floods in Town

I fought the urge to panic, but we had important work to do, so we stayed. and went to the pub.

Over dinner, Justin and I decided it was our duty to report on people leaving or staying and to make our own plans.

The rain cleared by dawn. We drove to the swollen Kampaspe River, which was slowly widening toward the surrounding houses.

While TV news crews broadcast live crosses from town centers and water-filled roads, we decided to find households staying in their homes to experience some of the flooding. .

Wearing dark green waterproof waders, I shoved the tide off the street.

Justin was about a head taller than me, walking a few feet ahead, fumbling his way around, avoiding gutters and potholes covered in dark, billowing water.

I found it Glennies and Brian Mulcahy We spent about three hours together talking, taking pictures, and helping lift heavy furniture onto blocks. I saw a spider escape from a flooded verandah and climb a wall.

The Mulcahys welcomed us in the depths of the disaster. Glenys gave us bottled water and apologized for not being able to provide us with a proper lunch.

By the time I walked through thigh-high water back to the motel, the other news crew had left. We were the last remaining guests. It was too dangerous to leave.

Megan, her husband Matt, and their friends built a wall of sandbags. We sat behind it and watched the water creep up our driveway.

Climbing onto the roof, the town was quiet and strangely calm, in contrast to the sounds of thunderstorms and raging fires.

Still, the water kept coming out.

The four of us had dinner when it got dark and the floods pressed against our sandbags. My initial hopes of not making it this far were shattered.

It was late at night and the water was pouring in. It slammed into the downspout, erupted through a hole in the metal, and continued to march relentlessly across the parking lot to our room.

We retreated back to our plastic chairs and briefly discussed escaping on a boat in the darkness where the river stubbornly refused to peak.

At that point the silicone line was lost under chocolate brown water,

Once the water was knee high, we decided it was safest to climb a ladder and spend the night on the roof. I felt a growing fear that I might be stuck for days.

By then, water was dripping across the carpet in my room and bubbling up through the vents and holes in the ground. Somehow we slept.

When I woke up, the water was only a few centimeters above my room and stopped short of my mattress. But there was an added relief. The river has reached its peak.

Matt and Megan are already awake and preparing breakfast in the flooded kitchen. We ate bacon and eggs and drank instant coffee with ankle stroking water.

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outside, The ground and the pool began to emerge As the parking lot has regained its original shape.

Mulcahys’ friends stopped by and casually told us how they helped carry the elderly to safety in the dark.

By Saturday night the water was running low and we celebrated with local red wine late into the night.

We danced in the kitchen and Megan jumped on the table – a survival victory dance together.

Before coming to Rochester, I wondered why people would want to rebuild in a flood-prone area.

Now it turns out that for many in Rocky, the community spirit alone is enough to keep them going.

But with more rain coming and the ground already saturated, I’m afraid another flood is coming.

I really hope they never need silicone lines again.

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