Here goes mine...

A friend and I went on a mid- August trip from the Tri-cities to fish Slough Creek at Yellowstone National Park. We drive all night, arrive at the campground around 6:00 am. Put up the tent, stowed the gear inside and started towards the trailhead. We hiked around 6 miles up to the second meadow and started fishing. It was a great day, temp around 80, Lots of hoppers hopping, fish biting, very few other poeple around. We fished most of the day stopping only to eat a quick lunch. About 3:00 I remember releasing a fish and looking up towards the mountains seeing a very big, very black, thunderhead forming. I also noticed it had gotten colder and darker as if it dusk was a few hours early. I remeber thinking to myself, a few more fish, then we better get out of here.... famous last words, "a few more fish...." Within 5 minutes the wind kicked up to nearly 50mph. The thunderhead, and the lightning it carried with it hit us like a truck. We both realized immediately we were in big trouble! There was no shelter, and we were the tallest thing for at least a couple of miles in any direction. The first of many lightning bolts hit the meadow several hundred yards away. Staring down a huge thunderstorm is a humbling experience. The next bolt hit close enough that the sound wave knocked us back a step... The flash was blinding. we started running towards the trail leading back to the campground. It would take us into the shelter of the trees. We were running hunched over, graphite rods (a fine conductor of electricity) low to the ground, juking and weaving for some unknown reason. (maybe thinging we could dodge the lightning..) We were running through a waist high grassy area when we nearly ran into a bull moose that had been lying down. We froze. He stood staring at us from 15 feet away! A loud lightening crash shattered the moment, he went one way we went the other. Finally as we hit the trail, the rain came. Heavy rain. I was wearing shorts and a tank top. The temperature had dropped at least 40 degrees, and the wind was still howling. We continued through the forest down the path for what seemed like an eternity. The rain changed to a stinging hail. 2 hours later we arrived at the campsite, but our tent was GONE! We were standing there, hypothermic, soaked, scared, and tired as the ranger drove up. He told us that the wind had topped 60mph at the campground, and our tent was blown 100 yards, landing into the river were it washed down another 100 yards or so. He pulled the drenched pile out of his truck and dropped it on the picnic table. All of our clothes, sleeping bags, pillows, and extra gear was inside the tent when it went into the river. The tent was ruined. The ranger told us he was sorry, and he did all he could to catch the tent. My friend and I just looked at each other and started laughing. We couldn't stop! The ranger must have thought we were insane. We told him about the rest of the day leading up to that moment and that we were just glad to be alive. We picked up the mess, threw it in the truck, and drove home. We call it our "yellowstone day trip!" 12 hour drive there - 10 hours fishing - 12 hours back home! You should have seen the look on my wifes face when we got home the NEXT morning...