Category Archives: Reviews

Santee State Park, South Carolina

24 Thursday May 2018

Posted by in Campground, Grace, Reviews

≈ 2 Comments

For some reason, my pictures of this state park are really not impressing me this morning. Generic green trees and a wood chip path; generic dock and gray sky reflected on water; generic blue sky with some kayaks in the background. I’ve seen them all before, only labeled with different locations: Pennsylvania, Maine, Florida. So have a Sarasota commencement sunset instead:

Sunset at the New College commencement

My neighbor at this park just pulled a full size ladder out of a mysterious compartment on his trailer. He also has two kayaks stuck in the back of his truck. I’m not quite jealous — I would never want to pull a trailer and he’s using the ladder to clean off the roof of his slide-out so he can close it to pack up, which is not a chore I would want to add to my list. But last week, R and I finally figured out how to use my bike rack and the conclusion, after almost two years, is “ha-ha-ha, what a useless piece of equipment.” I mean I guess I thought that’s what the conclusion was already? I never believed I would be able to lift a bicycle high enough over my head to get it on the rack to begin with.

But it turns out that yes, I’m now strong enough to lift a bicycle onto the rack (whee) and it doesn’t matter because I’m not tall enough to lock it into place without somehow carrying a ladder around with me. I’m sure you’ll be unsurprised when I tell you that my van has no available room to carry around a ladder. And while two years ago I did optimistically think I could become strong enough to lift a bike over my head (I am! A light bike, anyway!), I don’t optimistically think I’m going to grow taller any time soon. Not to mention, even R had to bring out something to step on to finally get the lock on, so yeah. Bike rack, not much use. I’d rather have a kayak than a bike, anyway.

But back to the state park. It’s a nice enough place, which feels a lot like damning with faint praise, but I don’t intend it that way, not really. If I’d stayed here on my very first trip up to PA two years ago, I think I would remember it fondly. As it is, though, my view is of my neighbor’s trailer — admittedly, there’s a lovely lake behind the trailer, but I’ve stayed in so many places with really spectacular views by now that I’m jaded about having to look through people stuff to get to the nature stuff. Still, nice level sites, plenty of room between them, good walking, friendly people, lots of small dogs and children to admire, birds chirping… it’s a great place for a quick stop on my way to PA.

And not such a quick stop, really. I got here Tuesday around 4 and I’m not leaving until tomorrow (Friday) morning, so two full days here. My idea was that breaking up a long drive with a couple days of rest would give me time to do lots of writing. Eh. About 400 words yesterday was the best I could do. The fact is, long drives are tiring and the routines of moving are time-consuming. I spent more time yesterday searching for a place to stay Friday night, so I could avoid going through DC (at rush hour on Friday on a holiday weekend, aka nightmarish), than I did actually adding words to Grace.

Of course, that said, I should probably admit that I spent a lot more time playing with graphics and photographs than I did writing Grace, too. It’s not like I’m going to become a designer anytime soon but it’s fun to play sometimes. I designed a lovely post-apocalyptic horror thriller cover — well, not lovely, more grim and dark in an attractive sort of way. (Tagline: a post-apocalyptic thriller for the desperately bored.) I also turned a perfectly nice tree picture into a muddled mess of a graphic, having discovered a magnifying glass and a scatter tool.

But today’s another day, another chance to get some real words written, so I’m going to get back to it. I suspect part of my resistance is that I’m so close to the ending — I really could finish it with another 10K words, so within two weeks, quite easily. But that would mean I’d have to start letting other people read it and I’m not sure I want to. Wouldn’t that be ironic? Three plus years spent writing a book and at the end of the day, an unwillingness to let anyone else read it? But for my own sake, I need to finish it so I can move on, so back to it I go. Wish me luck!

Aux Arc

26 Thursday Apr 2018

Posted by in Boring, Campground, Randomness

≈ 4 Comments

I wonder how I’m going to remember places. And then I wonder whether it really matters. I’d like to live so mindfully that my present is always more of my focus than my past, that instead of trying to remember where I was at X date of years gone by, I’m always appreciating where I am.

That said, Aux Arc is the sound of trains rumbling by and Canadian geese murmuring.

Canadian geese and goslings

For some reason, when I arrived here last Friday, I paid for a full week’s stay. I didn’t know how I was going to feel about the campground, but I’d had a chance to drive through before picking a site, so I knew that at least I had a water view. And maybe I knew that I was getting sick. I definitely knew I was tired.

campsite at Aux Arc

As it turned out, my campsite was a peaceful place in which to be miserable. Not good for the writing, unfortunately. All my good intentions of progress on Grace turned into staring at the blank screen for a while and then going back to sleep. I wrote a few hundred words here and there, but mostly they went nowhere.

But I’d like to not remember this place as a place where I was miserable. It deserves better. It’s green and quiet and still and even though trains rumble by and barges drift down the river, I could easily imagine myself staying here happily for another week or even longer. It’s not wilderness, but it’s spacious nature. (Also a serious bargain — with an America the Beautiful pass, campsites are half price, so I’m paying $9/night for electricity, water, and a water view.)

But my time is up tomorrow, my tanks are full, my fridge is empty, and I have weekend plans. And then next week, it’s back to Florida. R texted me yesterday to let me know that he’d passed his thesis exam: it wasn’t a surprise, but I found myself unexpectedly teary with pride. I want to go back in time and tell the self that was agonizing over whether to try yet another new school to relax and just do it. And then in three weeks, I will get to watch him graduate from college: I suspect I should bring tissues.

Natural Falls State Park, Oklahoma

19 Thursday Apr 2018

Posted by in Campground, Grace

≈ 6 Comments

waterfall in Oklahoma

When I first started wandering, I met a number of people who’d given themselves goals in their journeys: to visit all fifty states, or all the national parks, or all the major baseball stadiums. (That last was a nice guy in Maine — I don’t think his wife was quite as enthusiastic about the plan as he was.) I thought about it for a while, but I couldn’t come up with a goal of my own. But I like the idea of visiting each state’s best waterfall. This one is Oklahoma’s. As waterfalls go, it’s not huge, but it was certainly very pretty.

As to why I’m in Oklahoma — that would be a boring story, so I’ll skip the details. Short version, Arkansas has no CostCos. And Eureka Springs had a lot going on this upcoming weekend, which meant the campground — the lovely, lovely, beautiful, wonderful campground — was filling up with pink slip reservations. I decided that was reason enough to wander on. Before I leave it entirely behind, though…

sunset

I’ve noticed before that Army Corps of Engineer parks seem to pay attention to views more than most campgrounds. One of the most beautiful sunsets of the past two years was at an ACE campground on a hill, where the campsites were terraced so that everyone had a view. At Dam Site Lake, my view was lovely, but if I ever go back, I want one of the sites that face east-west instead of north-south so that I can watch both sunrise and sunset from inside the van. For my own future reference, site 24 is the one that I want.

That said, if I ever go back, I’ll make sure I’m prepared to be really dirty while I’m there — the showers were my least favorite style, the ones where you push a button, with no control over the water temp, pressure, time, or angle. Plus, I’m pretty sure the shower house was unheated. And since the sites didn’t have water or sewer hook-ups… well, being a permanent camper means embracing the dirt. It’s just easier to do that in summer, I guess.

The other day I was on the phone when a stranger came walking around the side of the van, well into my site. I promptly got up and went to the door to see what he wanted. He, somewhat apologetically, said, “Your dog was stuck.” She’d wrapped her tie-out cord around a post on the other side of the van and couldn’t move, and he was helping her untangle herself. Nice guy. She’d never been tied up before we started camping, and almost two years into it, she still doesn’t get the concept.

Dog tied to tree

Zelda, two minutes after I let her out, completely unable to understand why she can’t move.

I’m at a point in Grace where I have two conflicting desires. I can’t see how to make two scenes fit together: it feels like one or the other can happen, but not both. It’s left me feeling very stuck, because I want both of them. But I had two goals in the last, start-all-over-from-the-very-beginning revision, one of which was to remember that it’s Grace’s story. It’s never going to feel entirely like Grace’s story — the drama is Dillon’s, mostly — but when I look at these two scenes, one belongs to Grace and one belongs to Sophia, and the Grace scene should win. Such a pity that the Sophia scene is better. But now that I’ve thought that out, I should probably get back to it. On my drive today, I kept trying to talk myself into figuring out where I was going with Grace, but instead, my thoughts kept drifting to Fen. I know the first word of Book 2, and I know some of what happens in it, but I’m still trying to figure out what exactly a magic competition would look like for the Sia Mara. It’s fun to think about, but it sure doesn’t help me solve my Grace issues. Still, I’m getting closer every day, I think.

27 Degrees

16 Monday Apr 2018

Posted by in Campground, Travel, Vanlife, Zelda

≈ 4 Comments

27 degrees.

27 DEGREES! Yesterday, I was walking Z, bundled up in leggings and long socks and blue jeans, with a long-sleeved shirt, two hooded sweatshirts, and my windbreaker, my gloves and scarf, and white flakes were falling out of the sky on me.

It was April 15th.

I feel that’s simply crazy. I would like to speak to the weather police and report Arkansas.

However, my campground is lovely.

And I really shouldn’t complain too much about the weather, because it could have been so much worse. On Friday, when I needed to decide whether to stay at Toad Suck or if I was going, where I should go, Zelda helped make the decision for me in the strangest way. She peed on the bed. And not trivially. It soaked all the way through the memory foam mattress topper and into the couch cushions below.

It was so odd! She seemed totally oblivious to it, too, so much so that I spent about ten minutes trying to figure out where this liquid could have come from if not her bladder. But it was definitely urine and since my clothes were dry while the sheets were sopping, it had to be hers. Not that I really thought I’d wet the bed completely without noticing, but she was so… not guilty, I guess?, that at least I considered the idea.

I googled, of course, in total worry, and discovered that middle-aged female dogs who have been spayed sometimes suffer from hormone-related urinary incontinence and that if it happens again, there are drugs that might help. I’m obviously keeping my fingers crossed that it doesn’t happen again — living with an obliviously incontinent dog in a van sounds like a nightmare. If it turns into a real problem, I want tile floors, a washing machine, and a bed with one of those liquid-resistant covers. But I will cross that bridge when I come to it, and meanwhile, Friday turned into an urgent laundry day, which meant a) I was leaving Toad Suck and b) I wasn’t going too far away.

Fortunately for me, that meant I didn’t try to make it to Devil’s Den State Park, which was high on my list of places to visit. As a result, I didn’t drive straight into the tornadoes that hit Arkansas Friday afternoon. I call that the positive side of spending two hours cleaning up dog pee. 🙂

Instead, I did laundry in Conway, then headed to Tyler Bend, a national park service campground on the Buffalo River. In nice weather, Tyler Bend is probably a pretty nice place — the trails looked very appealing. But it was not nice weather. It was rain and thunderstorms and more rain and more thunderstorms. And the campground didn’t have electric hook-ups, which I probably should have realized before I stopped there. It meant I was spending $16 for a parking spot, which is fine if you’re using your outside space wisely, but pretty darn pricey to be huddled in the van, wondering if the lightning will stop long enough to walk the dog.

On Saturday, I got back on the road. I really wasn’t sure where I wanted to go, but my dad had sent some mail to a Facebook friend for me, who was about an hour away. (Thanks, Dad! And thanks, Scott, for collecting it!) We met up for a nice lunch at the Ozark Cafe in Jasper. I was the pain-in-the-ass customer for them, unfortunately — there was only one thing on the menu that I thought would be safe, a salad, and when they brought it out, they’d put a dinner roll on top of it. Ouch. My gluten reaction is so ridiculous now that even that level of cross-contamination might have made me sick for several days but they were very nice about giving me a new salad.

After lunch, I started driving. I really didn’t know where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by my options and by the challenge of choosing between them. But I was worried about the weather. Not the tornadoes, because the radar map showed that I was safely to the west of that storm system, but the weather app was saying that it would be cold and rainy. I wanted electricity. And I wanted not to need to wake up the next morning and need to move again. Somehow that added up to me just continuing to drive, until I made it to Dam Site Lake Campground, past Eureka Springs.

The view from the van door.

I haven’t checked out the bathrooms, because it is ridiculously cold. And I have to say, not all campsites are created equal at this campground: mine is quite nice, but the one below would be a challenge…

underwater picnic table

(Pretty sure they’re not actually letting people take this campsite right now.)

But we are literally camped on a little island in the middle of a beautiful lake. It is approximately 700 steps to do a full loop of the campground, so our exercise is going to be walking in circles. Cold circles. But the view from the windows can’t be beat.

A rolling stone…

12 Thursday Apr 2018

Posted by in Campground, Randomness, Travel, Vanlife

≈ 6 Comments

a tree

Toad Suck is awesome.

I like it in every way, except maybe for the shower quality. But my site is beautiful, the view is amazing, the sunrises have been lovely, the walking is pleasant, the weather has been perfect… I like it so much that I’ve been struggling today to decide whether to stay longer or to move on. Struggling for an excessively long time, in fact! I’m actually quite annoyed with myself for how much time I’ve wasted trying to make this decision.

My routine — to the extent that I can be said to have one — has been to move every four or five days. Because I seldom get a site with sewer hookups, that’s about the perfect length of time to let me freely use water while I’m at a site, mostly for washing dishes, and then dump the tanks when I move. It’s also generally a pretty good time to hit up a grocery store. I can certainly last longer than four days on risottos and quinoa bowls, but I usually feel like I need something from a store about then.

But when I’ve found a really nice place, I’m often torn between moving on and staying. In favor of moving: maybe the next place will be even better. Against moving: why not appreciate what I have for a while longer?

This morning, I sighed and thought, “Well, a rolling stone gathers no moss.”

And then I thought, “But is that good or bad? Do I want moss or don’t I?”

I don’t know the answer, but I was pretty amused to discover that no one else does either.

It hasn’t helped me make a decision. But Eureka Springs is only about three hours away…

Toad Suck

09 Monday Apr 2018

Posted by in Campground, Randomness

≈ 4 Comments

River view from Toad Suck campground, Arkansas

My view

Every once in a while I get into a conversation with someone in a campground where the longer we speak, the more I sense them becoming convinced that I’m kind of a flake. Not in the special-snowflake sense, but in the… hmm. You know, some internet research has now convinced me that “flake” is the wrong word. Eccentric is much closer to what I mean. It’s not that I think they begin to believe me unreliable or selfish or scatterbrained, more that I can see the confusion growing in their eyes. In today’s example, it was a conversation at the campground office about my reasons for being here.

I’m not here because I am on my way somewhere. I’m not here because I have family in the area. I’m not here because I am a hiker or a biker or a water sports enthusiast. Nope. It’s just because the place has a really good name: Toad Suck

I think that’s a perfectly sensible reason to visit a place, but the nice older gentleman I was speaking to found it mystifying, I believe. Fortunately for me, it’s also a lovely campground and I have an extremely nice spot in it. I’m right on the river, facing the water.

My usual routine when I get to a new campground is to plug in to the electricity, connect to the water, and then putter around the van for a little while. I check my internet connection, check my email, see what kind of music is within range, get out some of the things that are put away from travel but pleasant to have out, like my essential oil diffuser and my induction cooktop. Maybe I rest for a while from my drive, maybe I take the dog for a walk. At Toad Suck, I immediately got my chair out, set it up under the tree shown at the edge of the picture, and sat and admired the river for a bit while Zelda tried to sniff every blade of grass. I’m hoping that this is going to be a peaceful place to get some writing done.

Also, hoping, I have to admit, for some steady sunshine and warmer temperatures. The more time I spend outside Florida, the more I realize that it’s called the Sunshine State for a reason and that I have been profoundly spoiled by living there for so long. Also, that I like sunshine. Also, that part of the purpose of this extended journey was to figure out where I was going to settle long-term and the longer I’m on the road, the more I like Florida.

Not that I don’t love Arkansas! I definitely do. It’s such a pretty state. My drives have been lovely, and the campgrounds are spoiling me for other states’ parks. Even the grocery store sushi was good (Kroger). But the more cold days I spend in the van — not cool days, but days where the temps go below 35, so COLD days — the more I know that the van is not a cold-weather lifestyle, at least not for me.

In interesting timing, (related to thinking about settling down again), I received an email message about a job possibility today. It’s for a position that I would define as a realistic job, one for which I’m well-qualified (or for which I would have been very well-qualified seven years ago and for which I’m still reasonably well-qualified). Given that I’ve been thinking for several months that I should consider getting a job, I should probably jump on it. But since even the thought makes me want to pull the covers over my head and spend the rest of my life asleep, that will not be happening.

Which means it’s time to write more Grace. Back to work!

A tale of two campgrounds

06 Friday Apr 2018

Posted by in Campground, Travel, Vanlife

≈ 3 Comments

campground photos

My site at Gulpha Gorge

If I was on vacation, with company and lots of time to play, I think that Gulpha Gorge would have been a very fun place to be camping. Like all of the national parks (in my experience, anyway) it was crowded and busy and beautiful. There were hikes that looked terrific and it was reasonably close — walking distance even — to the town of Hot Springs, which is adorable and historic and touristy, but not in a bad way.

As it was, though, I was kind of grouchy about being there. I’d been writing really well at Lake Chicot and the busy-ness of Gulpha Gorge was distracting and unsettling. Not unsettling in a spooky way, but unsettling meaning that I just couldn’t settle into writing. People wandered by the van, both in front and in back, and cars drove by on the road, and I paid more attention to my surroundings than I did to my computer. Part of me wanted to accept that, to appreciate the moment and be present where I was. To be mindful.

But mostly I was grouchy instead. I didn’t want interruptions and people; I wanted a better view — one with no people passing by, unless they were in boats — and to be living in my imagination. Fortunately, I’d been skeptical from first glance, so I only had a couple nights there, and yesterday, I headed out to my current park.

Along the way, I stopped at Quapaw Baths and, well, had a bath. Actually, not literally — a private bath would have cost $35 – $40 and I was too cheap for that. I shouldn’t have been. More than once I’ve considered getting a hotel room for the night purely to take a bath, and it’s my birthday week so I should have been willing to treat myself. Funnily enough, I think my reticence was because Gulpha Gorge didn’t have showers, so I was feeling pretty dirty. I know, isn’t that ridiculous? I was feeling too dirty to take a bath. But I wanted a hot shower, and the thermal baths — four giant hot tubs of varying temperatures — required guests to shower first. So I spent $20 for the thermal baths. I did it the classic way, moving from the coolest bath up the line until I was in the hottest bath, sitting under a waterfall of 104 degree water, and then working my way back down again. It was absolutely lovely, and bookended by clean hot showers. Totally worth the $20. Possibly worth driving back to Hot Springs before I leave Arkansas and doing it again.

Bath complete, I headed north to Petit St Jean State Park. It’s a campground that I knew I didn’t want to miss, because it was rated the best park in Arkansas in a 2017 survey. High praise! But I’d really wish I’d waited to pick a site instead of choosing one at random online. There are 127 campsites and some of them are terrific. Mine is not one of the terrific ones. It backs up to the road; it’s on a slight slope; the water and electricity are on different sides of the site so Serenity can’t be connected to both at once; and my view is limited to trees. Still, trees are better than neighbors’ sewer lines and it’s quiet enough that even the traffic on the road probably won’t bother me too much.

And the weather… well. It’s 11AM and I have turned the van into Cozy Nest Van, closing all the blinds and curtains and turning the lights on even though it’s daytime. That’s because it’s raining and cold and dark outside. There’s a freeze warning in effect for tonight and I actually had to think for a moment to recognize the symbol on the weather app for tomorrow. Literally, I have not seen that symbol in… well, maybe never in relation to a place where I was!

I was thinking about driving into the nearest town tomorrow for a free Starbucks treat and maybe a sushi lunch to celebrate another year passing, but nope, I won’t be driving. And honestly, I’m not sure how I’m feeling about that symbol. But I can promise you that the blinds will not be down tomorrow while I wait to see if white fluffy stuff starts falling from the sky!

My site at Petit St Jean, yesterday. It’s much wetter today!

Not quite a parking lot

03 Tuesday Apr 2018

Posted by in Campground, Randomness, Travel

≈ 6 Comments

parking lot with campers

My current “campground”. If you look real hard, Serenity’s a tiny speck in the background.

I woke up this morning in a field in Arkansas. It’s not a campground, it’s not a parking lot, it’s a field. I’m not the only person camping here. There’s a tent that I can see without moving my head, an Airstream trailer and truck combo that I can see when I turn my head, and off in the distance a run-down Class C RV that holds a family having an amazing adventure. I know the latter because I drove by them last night — at least three kids aged 7 and under, with hippie parents, and everyone was smiling. That might have been because Z was sitting in the passenger seat, playing co-pilot, which she does sometimes, and I was driving by very slowly, so giving them plenty of time to point her out and admire her cuteness.

Yesterday I screwed up. But I’ll start at the beginning: I left Lake Chicot with enormous regret. After my electricity travails, I wound up in a perfect spot there, so nice that I was seriously tempted to go back to the office and extend my stay for as long as they would let me. Water view, glorious sunsets, lovely long walks, what more could anyone want?

Alas, clean clothes. I was as close to being entirely out of clean clothes as I’ve gotten since I was in college, I suspect. And I did consider the virtues of hand-washing socks and underwear in the sink, but really, everything was dirty. It was time for clean pants and clean sweaters and clean sheets, too. And the town around Lake Chicot didn’t appear to have a laundromat, or at least Google wouldn’t find one for me. Google liked a place called Pine Bluff for laundromats. So I packed up and headed to Pine Bluff.

Google lied.

The first laundromat I tried to find didn’t exist. I drove around in circles at the spot on the map, trying to locate it, finally pulled over right where it should be, and it simply was not there. No big deal. I found the next closest laundromat and headed to it. Nope, not a laundromat. Laundry, yes, but it was a dry-cleaner and professional laundry place, one of those running big machines with trucks loading out front, not the kind where people sit and watch the dryers spin. On to the next one. It was closed. Very closed, very dead looking. It still had the washers and dryers inside, but it looked like no one had used it in years, forlorn and abandoned. Fine. I was not liking Pine Bluff much by this time, but fine. Off I went to laundromat #4. It didn’t exist. Again, I drove around in circles until I could find a spot to pull over and check the map location against the physical reality and they simply did not match. There was no laundromat there and no sign that there ever had been one there.

Oh, Google. Why were you failing me? Or maybe it was the town to blame, but either way, I was feeling pretty frustrated. Driving the van in circles in an unfamiliar city — albeit a small city, with reasonable traffic — is really not my idea of a fun way to spend an hour.

But it wasn’t like I had any better ideas for how I was going to solve my clean clothes issue. So off I headed to laundromat #5 and when, on the way, I spotted a “laundry, 24 hours” sign, I did not hesitate. It wasn’t listed on Google maps, but I swung right in with a sigh of relief. Two hours, two loads of clean clothes, and some friendly conversations later, I got back on the road.

It was later than I wanted it to be, already after 1, and I made a key mistake — I didn’t eat lunch. I was headed to Hot Springs National Park and a campground that doesn’t take reservations, Gulpha Gorge. In my (limited) experience, the national campgrounds are perennially busy places, so I wanted to get there as close to noon as possible, to catch people as they were leaving, for my best chance of finding a good site. I was over an hour and a half away, so I was already later than I liked. And I needed to stop at a grocery store on the way.

Why did I need to stop at a store? I have no idea. None. I knew I did, but I got to the store, started wandering around, and — Oh! Drat. Gluten-free oats, that was why I wanted a store. Sigh. I’m out of granola. Alas, Alexa didn’t work while I was at Lake Chicot because I had no T-Mobile connection, so I was relying on my own memory instead of a grocery list and my own memory totally failed me. Instead I wandered the store buying things that I absolutely did not need — spice gum drops, potato chips, dip, sugar water, sushi — the stuff that you buy when it’s 3PM and you didn’t eat lunch and you’re in a grocery store and can’t remember what you’re looking for. In my defense, also pot roast, mushrooms, some healthy noodle bowl thing and eggs, so not a totally useless, nutrition-free visit. But pretty close.

And then, finally, I headed to the campground. I got there and felt a little dubious. The campsites were close together, a few neat rows of them. There were some empty spots, but they were sloped or right next to the bathrooms, so heavy traffic flow spots. I like quiet campgrounds, peaceful places, and this didn’t look like that kind of place. But there was a site on the end of a row that was open so I noted its number and went back to register.

The registration was by computer — first time I’ve seen that. Like a parking spot computer in a parking garage, you put your number in and the days you wanted to stay, fed it your credit card, and it printed out a little slip for you, your receipt, to clip on the camp site’s number post. I wasn’t feeling overly thrilled by the campground, but I’d read great reviews about its nice trails and I’m resolved not to move so often that I don’t get any writing done, so I decided to stay three nights, moving on Thursday. I got my receipt and went back to set up.

Except, when I got back there, there was already a receipt on the post. The site was already taken. I couldn’t figure out how I’d missed seeing it. Had someone been just slightly ahead of me at the registration kiosk? But no, it was just the angle of the van and a branch from a bush — the receipt had been hidden by leaves. And the campers hadn’t left anything in the site, so they were probably van campers like me.

I went to the registration window, wondering what to do, and there was a big sign on the door — No Refunds. Bah humbug. I’d just spent $97 for a site I couldn’t use. I putzed around the campground for a while, trying to decide what to do. Pay for another campsite? Go find a less expensive, less crowded campground? I parked in another site and took Z for a quick walk, still pondering. We didn’t walk far, because I didn’t want to get a ticket, but I decided that the trails were nice enough that I did want to explore.

When we got back, I took a closer look at the receipt and realized that the people in the site were leaving today, the 3rd. I’d paid for the site through the 5th, so if I got there before someone else in the morning, I could maybe save two nights of my stay. But I really didn’t want to spend another $30 for a different site in the campground. Long story short (well, less long than it already has been), I waited at the site until its previous occupants returned around 7PM, told them what had happened, asked if I could leave my receipt there so no one took the site the next day, and then headed off in the growing dark to find myself a free spot to park for the night. My options were a nearby Walmart or a county park that was described as having unofficial camping. Since it wasn’t totally dark, I decided to try the county park. And thus, my field.

It wound up being a long day and it felt quite wasted while I was engaged in it. Driving in circles, shopping for sugar, sitting in a campsite, poised to depart at a moment’s notice, while waiting for its real owners to get home… I didn’t feel good about the day. But I liked waking up in my field this morning, and all my clothes are clean, and when I finally do get into my campsite, I’ll plug in the instant-pot and make myself some pot roast for dinner. Things could definitely be much, much worse.

The wisdom of a feather

29 Thursday Mar 2018

Posted by in Campground, Randomness, Serenity, Zelda

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I started counting the number of birds I could see from my window — like, right outside the window, fifteen feet away — and then something startled them and they swooped away and I realized that all the things I thought were dark leaves on the ground were actually small birds. I’m going to say — 200? 300? Not a countable number, that’s for sure. Sadly, they’ve now all moved on, but that’s probably a good thing for my productivity, since I find watching a flock of birds to be surprisingly compelling.

The last time I was in Arkansas, I got the very last space at an absolutely packed campground, Lake Catherine State Park. It was lovely, but it was spring break and it was crowded. Since this is Easter weekend, I decided that this time I’d be a little more proactive and I made a reservation at Lake Chicot State Park for five nights, taking me safely through Easter.

Ha.

I’m going to say that last year, lots of Arkansians looked at the weather, decided it was a glorious time to go camping, and headed for the park. It was a glorious time to go camping. This year, those same Arkansians looked at the weather and decided it was a fine time to hunker down in their houses. It so is.

The campground is pretty close to deserted and also pretty close to drowned. The puddles are like lakes. The lake is not overflowing its banks, fortunately, but there are a lot of semi-underwater trees. Even Zelda, who doesn’t usually mind getting wet, stood at the open door of the van this morning and then decided against her walk.

Fortunately, my deserted rainy underwater campground is also very green and pretty. Loads of trees, all in early-spring mode instead of tail-end of winter mode. Light green leaves and life bursting out all over the place. So I’m not finding it spooky, I’m finding it charming. I’m helped just a little in this by the fact that I checked out the bathrooms this morning and they are terrific. I might have to take a shower every day just because the bathrooms are so clean and nice and new.

I’m slightly less enthusiastic about the fact that even though I paid for a full hook-up site — not a thing I do very often, so in the nature of a pleasant luxury for a holiday weekend — the separate pieces (water, electric, sewer) are positioned poorly for Serenity. Technically I have all three, but I have to choose which one I want to be connected to at any given moment. My hose isn’t long enough to reach from the water outlet to the van intake while the power is plugged into both the van and the power outlet, and ditto the sewer. So it goes, I guess. At least I have access to all three if I need them.

And I’m feeling pretty fortunate on at least one of those three. When I got here yesterday, I couldn’t get the electricity to work. I called the campground host, who sent someone down to take a look, but it was raining and he couldn’t figure it out. They moved me to a different site, and then a third site, so it started to look like the problem was Serenity, not the campground. I was not so happy. I can live without power for a while if I have propane, but because I expected to have power, I hadn’t refilled the propane tank. Frustration!

And then, for no reason I could see, the electricity started working. Based on the symptoms, the smart people in the Travato Owners FB group suspect that I might have a problem with my Automatic Transfer Switch — maybe a loose connection? — but it’s working now, so I’m just counting my blessings and hoping for the best.

blue jay and cardinal feathers

Speaking of blessings, did you know that it is illegal to own most bird feathers? It still feels magical to find them, though, especially when they are truly beautiful. It would never have occurred to me that picking up a feather could be a crime, but after I’d picked up the above, I was remembering the park ethos — take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints — and so I left them behind. Well, first I googled to find out whether something in nature would use leftover bird feathers — was I leaving them behind to simply decay and rot? — and that’s how I found out that feather possession is a crime. They probably will simply decay and rot, but I’m glad I got to appreciate them first.

Along the way, I stumbled across all the many spiritual meanings of blue jay feathers. I suspect the spiritual meaning of feathers is sort of a choose-your-own adventure spirituality, because wow, people sure have found a lot of deep significance in some poor bird having a misadventure. But I was pretty amused by one site that told me the meaning was to “Choose a couple of the many projects on your plate and complete them.” How perfect is that?

Time to listen to the wisdom of the feather!

Cozy days

26 Monday Mar 2018

Posted by in Campground, Chicken, Food, Soup, Sous Vide, Travel

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I woke up yesterday to a gray, rainy, chilly day and thought, “I have got to get out of here.”

I woke up today to a gray, rainy, mildly chilly day and thought, “Oh, what a good day to snuggle down into my cozy nest and write a lot.”

I’m really not sure what the difference is. I had a nice lake view yesterday and you’d think that would have satisfied me. I’m speculating, though, that green is the color that matters. Yesterday’s campground was gravel and dirt, gray tree trunks, dead brown leaves, slate water, overcast sky. Today’s campground is some of the above (although not the water), but also spring green grass and forest green pine trees. Plenty of brown in view, too, but it doesn’t feel Gothic.

Another difference might be technological. I had no Internet connection and no cell service at yesterday’s campground. I’ve actually quite enjoyed being without internet at points in my travels — it pushes me to be present, to appreciate where I am, instead of mindlessly browsing FB or reading news stories that I instantly forget. But only, I suppose, in places where I feel safe. In general, I like knowing that if I need help, it’s a phone call away.

So, yes, today’s cozy nest includes internet browsing and probably some texting with friends. It also includes some cooking. I picked up chicken breast on sale at the grocery store yesterday, and I’ve already got my sous vide churning away. Two experiments: one with lime juice, yogurt, and mint, and the other with parsley, cilantro, garlic and olive oil. The danger with sous vide chicken is having the flavors be too strong, so I’m a little worried about the garlic version, but if I hate it, Zelda will be very happy to have my leftovers.

As soon as I finish cooking the chicken, I’ve got some corn-on-the-cob ready to go in. I’m quite excited to try it. I thought the sous vide corn I cooked last summer was close to the best corn I’d ever eaten, and it was late summer corn. This is, I hope, very early summer corn, nice and fresh, so it ought to be even better. I’ll see, I guess!

I’m also debating a scallop soup. I’ve got bay scallops in the freezer that need to be used up, but so far I can’t decide between a spicy ginger-lime scallop soup — maybe with rice noodles? — or a chowder-style soup with coconut milk and maybe some curry. But I bought a mix of gluten-free cheese biscuits at Aldi a few weeks back and I think the soup winner might be whatever would go best with the biscuits. The nicest part of mildly chilly days is that using the oven doesn’t cook us, too.

So, yep, cozy day in Mississippi ahead of me. And with some good words on Grace to go, too!