In the winter of 1990, I spent six weeks traveling in the canyons of Utah and the redwoods of California with a dog, car and oh yeah, a boyfriend. The following year, we bought a small pop up trailer that we towed with a VW Golf and traveled to Ashville NC, Charleston, Okeefanokee Swamp, Edisto Island in Georgia and landed at Mardi Gras in New Orleans just by luck. I was hooked. For the past 25 years I've been wanting to do this again, but one thing or the other made it just not feel like the "right time." So now it is. Me, dog, car. No boyfriend.

Thursday, February 1, 2018

Follow up to the Walmart bust.


Big empty off-season parking lot at the beach.

I have tried to figure out what why this boondocking thing is such a draw for me. Yes, I can afford to stay in expensive campgrounds and cheap motels. But I hate them for a variety of reason. 


I hate the isolation I feel in a motel, especially one that is affordable as affordable goes, say like a "Days Inn" or something. I hate the ugliness of the lighting, I hate the sounds of TV. I hate spending money to sleep. I hate having to drag all my stuff inside somewhere and literally make ten trips to the car because I forgot this or that charging cord, or my clock, or my keyboard, or Choochi's blanket........ that's just a few things I forgot to bring in last night while staying with my friend Pat.

While I love some of the amazing beauty state and national parks can offer, I hate the smoke from the campfires at most campsites. It burns eyes and lungs.  I don't love the feeling of being crushed in like sardines (however, most of the campgrounds I've visited are actually rather nice and are very nicely screened with foliage.) 


 Ft De Soto State Park outside of St. Petersburg 5:30 am watching the Super Blue Blood Moon eclipse from campsite. 


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Heavenly canopy of stars and silhouettes through the windows. 

I love being outside, waking up and seeing the silhouette of trees and stars and feeling the rush of cold air on you when you step outside because you HAVE to. Or watching the journey of the full moon as it crosses the sky all night long when you wake up here and there. I love the flexibility and freedom it gives you. I love going to bed really early and getting up early which is absolutely impossible at home.  I love the morning mist on your skin. You don't have to make a reservation. There is always room at the Walmart Inn. 

Honeymoon Beach


Here in the East, there just aren't that many options like there are out in the West in the desert for this type of travel. I love the simplicity of my vehicle. I love the gas mileage it gets. I love the fact everything is right there, packed and ready to roll. I love staying dry and warm. To me, my car is a hard-sided, heated, air conditioned, DC powered and generated upholstered glam tent on wheels. It's my "Car-V".   I love having the ability to lock myself inside and drive away fast. It actually gives me a total thrill when I can figure out how to do something BETTER. When I can unload something unnecessary and free up another cubic foot of space. Or figure out where to better store something for easier access.  If I don't want to talk to anyone, I can have days and days of solitude.



I love knowing I can live with a LOT less and be pretty happy. There has been only one person I know doing this lighter than I, and that was Tim in Borego Springs, CA. who lives with  nothing but a camping mat he throws on the ground every night and a small backpack with a phone inside. I love knowing what I really need and use. I love playing my guitar to cranes, egrets and pelicans and perhaps a passing person or two. I love how I feel myself starting to settle with myself in ways that you can't describe but could be called "peaceful."


People climb mountains, jump out of planes, expose themselves to all kinds of discomfort for the sake of adventure and moving into places that are scary. I don't feel that physically uncomfortable MOST of the time. It's an internal discomfort that I wrestle with. So coming up against this discomfort feels like a liberation of the  fear it is built upon.



So the worst has happened- I got hassled by security.  And it might happen again. OK the WORST thing people THINK will happen will be that I'll be ax murdered in a Walmart parking lot. 
Just as a reminder or perhaps for those who don't know, I was attacked  in 1989 IN MY HOUSE with the DOORS LOCKED. So that kind of blows the idea that being home is "safe" and being outside isn't. 

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Toll taker gives change and a treat for Choochi.

I actually feel safer in a Walmart lot than being isolated in a room somewhere. Most of the time there are other RV's there and I park right next to them. I wander into the familiar vibe of a Super Walmart 24 hour store, pick up some organic carrots or an avocado, brush my teeth in the bathroom, and go to sleep. Yes, Walmart has organic produce. Amazing.


The repercussions of that attack in my house thirty years ago have been ongoing mild PTSD, mostly a startle response which can make it hard to fall asleep not because I'm afraid of WHAT is going to wake me suddenly (like cops), but that the startle response itself is SO uncomfortable physically that it actually hurts. It's like being shot. 


For this reason I'm not a "good" napper or sleeper on the fly and I want to become one because again, this affords a more fluid lifestyle. I don't feel so tyrannized by the need to get a straight 6-8 every night. So perhaps, now thirty years later, I'm on a quest to purge the last of this fear out of my system and am doing exactly what I did those many years ago to heal from this.



When I left on a trip in 1990 with boyfriend David to help recover from the attack and to just get out of my house,  the PTSD symptoms were much more severe. Went to Staples or Blockbuster armed with a knife and pepper spray and was ready for combat. I was sure I would never live in my house again, that if I did I would need to put bars (or bricks) in all the windows. Fear and trauma needed time to settle and drip out of my system. 


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Crews Lake, Spring Hill, FL.


What came out of that assault was an incredibly wonderful travel adventure that I have been dreaming of for a long time and that I replicated last year and now again. I think this is why I'm doing this. That first trip in our camping car and tent was about healing from something that damaged my confidence and feeling of power. It was a big "Me Too" moment on my own.  I think the seed of healing is sewn into this sort of travel for me and what makes it so alive. Being "comfortable" isn't the point. Paradoxically, I can now be comfortable in my house. And I've had many moments of wanting to cash it in and go home because coming up against yourself is not easy, and we always want to run the other way.

I will know when it's time to return.

Thank you for listening.

xo

Laura



PS below is a BONUS article by the New York Times called "Overnight in Walmart Parking Lots: Silence, Solace and Refuge."



OR





Overnight in Walmart Parking Lots: Silence, Solace and Refuge

By THE NEW YORK TIMES

R.V.’s are welcome to spend the night at Walmarts like this one in Pooler, Ga., but one hazard can be shopping carts that stray in the wind. George Etheredge for The New York Times
As night falls, the motels and R.V. parks along America’s highways begin to fill up with travelers needing a place for the night.
But to untold thousands of motorists each year — some with a sense of adventure, others looking to save a buck, still more with no other place to go — Walmart is often a willing host for overnight guests.
“It’s not pretty: no pine trees, no bubbling brook, no ocean beach,” Chuck Woodbury, the editor of RVTravel.com, said in a tutorial video intended for casual travelers. “The idea of staying at Walmart is to park for the night, to get some sleep and then move on.”
Walmart’s practice of letting people populate many of its parking lots has made the retail giant’s stores a reliable, if somewhat improvised, destination and a place where an informal culture emerges before and after dark.
This summer, two photographers, Mike Belleme and George Etheredge, spent several nights in Walmart parking lots in the South. The men, who are longtime friends, slept in the back of a cargo van and talked with people who stopped at Walmarts. Here are some of the people they met, and things they saw, along the way.

The two photographers visited seven Walmarts, including the one in Pooler, Ga.George Etheredge for The New York Times


There are standards of etiquette — do not, for instance, sit in the parking lot in lawn chairs — and also online rosters of no-go Walmarts. There is an expectation that you should buy something, but there is no parking fee. There is a measure of solitary privacy, even in a place that is deliberately accessible. Still that doesn’t prevent some people from leaving skid marks in the parking lot.

Statesville, N.C. George Etheredge for The New York Times

A lot of travelers stay in their R.V.s and don’t interact with other people in the parking lot. They pass the hours by eating, watching television, spending time with their pets or sleeping.
Sometimes, people end up in a Walmart’s parking lot because they cannot think of anywhere else to go, or have made it part of their routine.

Frankie Davis stayed at a Walmart for the first time in mid-August after his house in Brooklet, Ga., was broken into. His father lives in Pooler, but Mr. Davis left his father’s house after an argument and ended up in the parking lot of the Walmart nearby. Mike Belleme for The New York Times
Almost everyone spending the night has a story to tell. They are traveling across the country, or visiting a particular spot. New England is a popular destination for travelers in the fall. And spending the night sometimes means getting a little creative.









The photographer Mike Belleme grabbed some clothes out of a rented van in the Walmart parking lot in Walterboro, S.C. George Etheredge for The New York Times

A superhero in the parking lot? No, it’s Anthony Tomes, 26, a manager at the Walmart in Statesville, N.C. He was wearing his back-to-school Walmart cape.George Etheredge for The New York Times





Basic hygiene can require a bit of improvisation. Mike Belleme for The New York Times






Pat Balcon and her husband, Ed, who stayed overnight at a Walmart in Walterboro, S.C., 
were heading to New England from their home in Green Cove Springs, Fla. “We’ve been parking in Walmarts since about 2002,” he said. Mike Belleme for The New York Times


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1 comment:

  1. GeorgeFebruary 2, 2018 at 5:56 AM

    hi Laura, it was good to read your blog. The journey seems as much external as well as internal. Thank good ness for Wal-Marts welcoming parking lot for travelers. I would imagine they also monitor the lots somehow, which would act as a safety net in a way. I may be wrong, but this years travels seem quite different from last years, or maybe your sharing it in a different way. be well and as always- Godspeed. George

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