"Don't Let the Plug-in Get Wet!"

My turn!  I grabbed the heavy gauge orange electrical cord, looped it a couple of times and FLU-U-U-NG with all my might!  I had to get the 3 pronged end across the watery ravine onto the opposite bank.  There's a electrical box on a pole over there that I had to plug into to get juice to my Trail-Lite camper.

We were in a county fairgrounds at Portland Indiana, at the Tri-State Gas Engine and Antique Tractor Show, which takes place every August, the third week.  We get to camp for $20 for the whole week as long as we have an exhibit.  Anything from tractors to hit & miss engines to flamingos to fingernail clippers are acceptable.

Jeani, my co-camper,  said not to let the plug-in get wet.

Shew!  I got it over there!

Now, for the next step.

The distance to the bridge was about 150 feet, cross the bridge over the said ravine, go another 150 feet to that electric pole.

Wow, the bank was steep.  Okay, what to do? 

A dwarf tree. hugging the bank with clawing roots knowing this is its source of liquid sustenance, was useful.  I put my left foot under an exposed root for security, then gently took right-footed steps to get close to the orange plug.  Left hand holding tight to a small branch, and using a long metal rod with an angled end in my right hand, I reached the cord.

Yes!  Hooked it!

Dragged it up and secured it.

I was so thrilled to have succeeded without falling in the creek and getting wet, that I raised both arms to the sky waving that rod!

"Yaaaa-Hoo!" I hollered.

I looked to Jeani who was unaffected, she was on her cellphone.

Back to camp, sister-in-law, who was at her own campsite with brother and niece, said, "I saw you over there.  Your arms raised up.  And I saw Jeani on her phone.  Looked like she was saying, "Can you hear me now?"

We all laughed.