I pull in to the state park, overtired and lonely, more interested in getting some cheap hook ups and a private parking spot than viewing the nearby series of waterfalls.
It is an unusually cold and wet day and the park is empty. As I pull up to my site, the damp fire pit, empty picnic table, and barren tent platform only make me feel more lonely, almost desperately so. Instead of appreciating the trees framing my camp, I view the giant pair on either side of my back in site with intimidation and anxiety. No one is around to solicit for help, so I park my Mini in the middle of the road, get out, and assess the situation.
If I am going to RV solo, then I need to be able to do this on my own.
Back into the driver’s seat. Two feet in reverse. Park. Walk around RV. Assess.
Back into the driver’s seat. Two more feet in reverse . Park. Walk around RV. Assess.
Back into the driver’s seat. Two more feet in reverse…
In a painstakingly slow process, one to two feet at a time, I successfully navigate into my spot.
Squeezed into the narrow drive, I realize I am extremely unlevel, so go through a second exercise of backing over an ever-increasing stack of orange lego-levelers. (I ended up needing almost all of them on the front driver’s side.)
Finally successfully parked, I feel hungry, cold, lonely, and want to cry.
Television. I need escapist, junk television
I turn on the DirectTV satellite and it spins and spins and spins. I can’t get a signal.
Giving up, I turn off the TV, make some chicken noodle soup and pick up a book, Tales of a Female Nomad. The story of a 47 year old wife, mother (of adult children), anthropologist, and children’s book writer, Rita Golden Gelman gives away all of her possessions and travels around the world solo, intimately experiencing foreign cultures as she travels with young backpackers and lives full time with marginalized indigenous families. She is one tough lady and I feel foolish that I felt like crying because I couldn’t get my motorhome level.
I open all of my windows, smell the campfires of unseen campers, hear the evening insects and birds and start to relax. This is peaceful.
I realize that being hungry, tired, and cold skews my perspective.
I love this.
Soothed by the natural sounds coming from outside, I go to bed with all the windows open. Asleep by nine, I was up early with hot coffee outside on a lovely cool morning.
It was magical!