Silverton, CO. Since I am camping close to a small mountain river, and since it looks like the front cover of a glossy RV magazine extolling the RV Dream, there were other campers nearby. What an odd feeling. Initially it seemed like a luxury to have people to chat with. But then I started noticing and recalling how narrow the RV demographic is.
I refrained from taking one of these RV dream-sites, in part so that those whose really wanted one could get it.
But the selfish motivation was that I dislike camping close to others. One night, one of the blockheads was running a generator the entire night, probably to run an electric heater. It's only late August but it has frosted here already.
It is amazing how tourists and campers are drawn to water, despite the fact that most of them don't do anything in the water besides sit there and look at it. Having to choose between lakes and rivers I prefer the rivers. They seem more alive.
Once I camped with other RVers on a windy bay near La Paz in Baja California. A full time RVer told me the story of her life and her present financial difficulties. She spent most of the year in Southern California. So then, why not find a cheaper place to live? She stared off in a distance, fluttered her eyelashes a little, and replied that she loved being "close to the water." She had no boat or water sport, yet she saw something that I couldn't see.
I'm not complaining about this tendency. Since it doesn't afflict me personally, I can use it to advantage. When camping in Baja I would sneak off a bit inland and camp free. It was nice to escape the blowing sand and salt spray. Then the dog and I had the excuse to take a short walk whenever we felt like seeing the water.
Another Baja camper used to make a big project out of jockeying her huge motorhome to get its main window facing "The View." She continually risked getting stuck in the sand. But it was her Dream to sit on her couch in a "gigante" RV, look out a huge window, and take in a 'breathtakingly beautiful' scene, just like what you'd see on the front cover of an RV industry glossy.
But back to my current RV boondocking site along the river. Every night my neighbors have a campfire on the round, alluvial gravel. I look forward to sunset and the smell of their fire starting up. They are just the right distance away--I hear their voices, but cannot understand them. It is just a soft murmuring, like the stream a few feet behind them. There really aren't many sounds more soothing than this, except perhaps a woman singing to her baby.
I refrained from taking one of these RV dream-sites, in part so that those whose really wanted one could get it.
But the selfish motivation was that I dislike camping close to others. One night, one of the blockheads was running a generator the entire night, probably to run an electric heater. It's only late August but it has frosted here already.
It is amazing how tourists and campers are drawn to water, despite the fact that most of them don't do anything in the water besides sit there and look at it. Having to choose between lakes and rivers I prefer the rivers. They seem more alive.
Once I camped with other RVers on a windy bay near La Paz in Baja California. A full time RVer told me the story of her life and her present financial difficulties. She spent most of the year in Southern California. So then, why not find a cheaper place to live? She stared off in a distance, fluttered her eyelashes a little, and replied that she loved being "close to the water." She had no boat or water sport, yet she saw something that I couldn't see.
I'm not complaining about this tendency. Since it doesn't afflict me personally, I can use it to advantage. When camping in Baja I would sneak off a bit inland and camp free. It was nice to escape the blowing sand and salt spray. Then the dog and I had the excuse to take a short walk whenever we felt like seeing the water.
Another Baja camper used to make a big project out of jockeying her huge motorhome to get its main window facing "The View." She continually risked getting stuck in the sand. But it was her Dream to sit on her couch in a "gigante" RV, look out a huge window, and take in a 'breathtakingly beautiful' scene, just like what you'd see on the front cover of an RV industry glossy.
But back to my current RV boondocking site along the river. Every night my neighbors have a campfire on the round, alluvial gravel. I look forward to sunset and the smell of their fire starting up. They are just the right distance away--I hear their voices, but cannot understand them. It is just a soft murmuring, like the stream a few feet behind them. There really aren't many sounds more soothing than this, except perhaps a woman singing to her baby.
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