Continuing the trip from WA to AZ, I often pulled into campgrounds just to see if they were filled and what they were like. I find the most delightful ones in national forests and state parks and most of the time they have very few people in them. I realize part of the problem is that RVers either do not have the equipment or the desire for dry camping. The current bushes rarely provide electricity. I’m afraid if we don’t use these campgrounds they will be closed. A handful of them were in very poor condition even tho volunteers were in attendance.
An old rusted truck followed me through the countryside and small villages, not chewing on my bumper but keeping a decent interval. After about an hour, I noticed it had turned off. I felt like I had lost a friend. You just can’t make relationships like that on the Interstates! (O.K. so I don’t get out much.) The mountainsides were in full reds, yellows, and oranges.
It was pretty dark and I still hadn’t found a place along this lonely road where I wanted to park for the night. By the time I reached Paisley, OR I was too tired to go further so I cozied up to a Back Country Scenic Byway Kiosk and settled in. It was Saturday night and relatively quiet with the occasional dogs barking. The local bar was flashing its “open” sign and raucous shouts of joy burst from the door every so often. Maybe some kind of game was in progress. Even that hilariousness calmed down well before the witching hour which I think came about 9:30 p.m.
Left hearth and home and kiosk before dawn and right after I turned south on #395, a big fellow jumped down from a stopped truck in the oncoming lane. He’s lucky I didn’t hit him because it was still pretty dark and he had no orange florescent stripes or anything else to make him visible but I had slowed way down and finally realized he was coming into my lane to stop me. A house was on its way through!! Hmmm. I pulled to the side and waited a few minutes while the house rumbled past. I’ve been slowed by cattle, sheep, and vehicles but I’ve never been stopped by a house! Maybe it was a first-time full-time RVer. It’s hard to leave stuff behind.
God Bless until next time.
At 45, Widow Minshall began 20 years of solo full-time RVing throughout Alaska, Mexico, and Canada. Sharlene canoed the Yukon, mushed sled dogs, worked a dude ranch, visited Hudson Bay polar bears, and lived six months on a Mexican beach. She lectured at Life on Wheels, published six RV-related books and wrote a novel, “Winter in the Wilderness.”
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