It wasn’t so much the sound of the wind that woke me, but the sound of the wind trying to wrench the rain fly from my tent. I had left it open when I went to bed so that I could see the stars as I lay in my sleeping bag. That opening was now a sail that was madly straining against the guy lines. All tent stakes were weighted down with sizable rocks, although where the ground itself was rock, they were not driven into the ground. No time to put on pants; I had to secure the fly before it ripped away. I grabbed my shoes but before I could get them on, the nearest guy line ripped out from under its rock, the rain fly peeling off that half of the tent, flailing in the wind. I scrambled out into the darkness, and managed to pull the rain fly back over the tent, zip it closed, and temporarily secure the line under the rock, but I was unable to find the stake.
Now that the immediate crisis was under control, other priorities emerged. I walked some distance away from the tent, farther than usual due to the strong wind, in order to “use the bathroom” prior to returning to bed. Upon completing that task, I realized I had gotten turned around in the darkness and could not readily see the tent. Well, this is just great, I thought, I’m out here in the cold blowing wind, and my pants, with my GPS clipped to the belt loop, are secure in the tent.
It was probably less than a minute of wandering before I detected a distant glint from the guy line reflectors, but it felt much longer. I also found the missing tent stake, thanks to its reflective pull rope; it had been catapulted over the tent when it was ripped from under the rocks, landing fully fifty feet away from the tent.
The morning after … with bigger rocks
That left just one last thing to do before returning to bed: look for bigger rocks for the guy lines!