South Fork, CO. I seldom have visitors when RV boondocking alone, so it seemed strange to have a pickup pull up and park at my campsite on a breezy saddle, surrounded by grass and sage. He was an interesting old gentleman who lived in the area. Apparently he thought my campsite was chosen because I didn't know any better. He recommended the free forest service campground down by the river where it was "so pretty."

I rolled my eyes behind my sunglasses but thanked him of course. Unaccustomed as I am to submitting people to demographic profiling, he seemed like the "type" who would think that swatting bugs down on a muddy riverbank would be heaven on earth.

But I was curious and went down to check it out one day. It was just as I thought--deep woods and bugs, with no view. Listening to the sound of the stream would certainly be nice. It might even drown out the noise from all your neighbors.

All right, I'll be fair: it would be good camping for a fisherman or for people whose kids enjoy the creek. Since I don't have kids and only cross path with them when they are throwing tantrums in the grocery store, I tend to see them as "the wages of sin". But perhaps parents are capable of getting the same kind of vicarious pleasure that I get from my dogs. Still, studies have shown that...


But can you believe that there were other holiday campers who camped right next to mud puddles!? I probably decided to camp as far away from water as possible my freshman year of full time RVing. Back at my campsite at the saddle, 8 miles away, I saw the scenery at the river campground better than if I'd been right there.



It's funny how campsites work out sometimes. When I came here the first night it was just for convenience's sake. Then it grew on me a little each day. And now I feel almost homesick leaving it, but duty calls...

Recently I watched the DVD, The Right Stuff, and was delighted by the test pilots' phrase, "'punch a hole in the sky." It is a phrase that can inspire an RV camper in the summer to find the highest and coolest campsite that he can. Last year at this time, I reached my high point of 10,400 feet. This year I languish at a mere 8500 feet. So we moved. The new spot was 8998 feet. I thought about old Yeager cracking the sound barrier.