This has been one of the most beautiful, restorative weeks I’ve had in a long time. Our stay at the city park in Douglas, WY was extremely pleasant. Large patches of grass, picnic tables, shade trees (one day it got to 102 degrees and the trees were such a blessing), next to a river that we used to cool off, hot showers and there was no charge—even the hot showers were free. Thank you, city of Douglas, WY. There is a two-night limit, and had I known how beautiful it was, and how sparsely populated, I would have planned for the extra night, but not knowing if there would be any spaces left on a July weekend, I’d already booked a campsite in a county park outside of Casper, WY for two nights.
So we left the following morning and headed west to Casper and made our way to Casper Mountain County Park. The drive on a Sunday morning was easy, with little traffic, and very well-maintained roads. We got to the park entrance and my heart rose into my throat. The road was extremely steep with lots of switchbacks. It was 7 miles up to our campsite and I had serious doubts that my 8,000 lb. van could make it. After about a quarter mile, the van went into low gear and it was all I could do to get it up to 30 mph. As it turned out, the speed limit was 20 mph most of the drive in, due to the hairpin turns and many switchbacks. My heart raced as I navigated the outrageous turns, at each one hoping I’d see some sign of a campground. The address I plugged into my GPS was vague, so I wasn’t even certain I’d hit the campground once we got to the top of the mountain. But we did finally make it to a large pit toilet building with billboard maps and lots of instructions and park rules and regulations. I stopped and Cosmo got out to pee while I read the signs. We were at the entrance of Skunk Hollow, which is where my campsite was, so it seemed we were almost there. I drove about a mile in on an even steeper, but less winding one-way road. There was our site. It was a pull-through which meant I didn’t have to navigate backing in. But it was a steep incline (basically a half circle, each end connecting with the main road.) I pulled in and stopped to see how far out of level we were. WAY out. The back of my van was 10 inches lower than the front and the driver’s side was 6 inches lower than the passenger side. I didn’t have enough blocks to adjust for this. I inched my way up the “driveway” stopping every foot or so to check how far out of level I was. When I got to the very top, there was a table and a firepit and a place to sort of back in if I wanted. By then I was still about 5 inches out of level in the rear. I maneuvered, and wiggled and jiggled until I was parked horizontally across the driveway. My passenger side read 4.5 inches below the driver’s side. Not great, but workable. I had just enough blocks to mix and match and get it up close to level. With lots of maneuvering, I got my gadget to read 0.00 on every wheel.
I used every leveling block I had, and it worked. The downside (literally) is that my entry door is now 5 inches higher than usual. I can easily climb in, but I sure have to pay close attention when I exit at night, or in the morning before I’m fully caffeinated. That first step is a doozie.
Our campsite is idyllic. It is on the side of a mountain, with lots of tall pines and aspen trees. There is a tiny stream running through our site and an abundance of wildflowers—purple, yellow, white, and pink. And butterflies! I’ve never seen so many butterflies. Sometimes they land on me when I’m outside. And there is the constant serenade of songbirds chirping, accompanied by the bubbling stream. And a deer who seems fascinated with us. I feel like Snow White.
[DEER PHOTO]
It was hot during the day but cooled down nicely for sleeping at night. All in all, I think this was just about a perfect site. I’d planned on staying two nights. I’ve gone way over my budget in June, paying for many RV parks and expensive campsites in Colorado, and having to pay for a new address, a new driver’s license, new tags and title, plus many unexpected computer expenses. This is a paid site and although it was only $10 a night, I felt I should move on to BLM land and start counting my pennies again. But on the second day, I talked to my friend Kitty, who is a part-time nomad, and she said “It’s beautiful. Why only two days?” I thought about it and decided if I could spend $65 to stay one night in a horrible place in Colorado, I could certainly pay $10 for an extra night in a beautiful spot. I got online, and my site was open for the next night, so I booked it. On the third day, I was feeling so stress-free. A young man pulled into the site across the way, and down the hill slightly. He came over and asked how we check in. I explained the process as I understood it and he thanked me, introduced himself and we chatted a bit. Later he came back to see if I had any bug spray. I did, and he sprayed himself. There was lots of wildlife, and about 75% of it was insects! I sensed the bug spray was just an excuse and he really just wanted to talk. I invited him to pull up a rock and he did and we talked for quite a while. I enjoyed the interaction with another human and so I checked online and my site was available for the following night. I booked it, staying 4 nights total. I chalked it up to a medical expense—preventative medicine as it were, to lower my blood pressure, prevent ulcers, and give me peace of mind. I believe it worked.
I had a “solar shower” on my third day. I put a 2-liter bottle filled with water on my “front step” (black rubber” and it heated quite nicely in the sun. My friend Kitty gave me a “shower head” that fits perfectly on the opening of the bottle and I stood outside, behind my van and got washed up. 2-liters is exactly enough for pits, and privates, and if I’m frugal, enough left over for a foot scrub. I felt not only clean but invigorated. I put on gym shorts and sat outside to air dry while I read a little.
The moon came up blazing behind the mountain and tall pines. It was 99% full, and although I couldn’t make out the round edges, the light shone on my campsite like a spotlight. I wonder if cavemen figured out the 28-day cycle and understood the phases of the moon. I am still having trouble figuring out why the moon is rising so far south when the sun rises pretty much due east. With the tall pines, even though the sun rises just past 5:30, it stays well hidden until after 6:00. I slept-in most days until about 6:30. The play of shadows and full sun on the trees outside my bedroom window was a beautiful morning sight.
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After 4 days there I decided we should move on. I’d done some mapping to get to our next destination (Weston, ID where I’ll make a pit stop to have my solar generator opened, cleaned of a year’s worth of dust, and see if it needs any maintenance) and planned to stop about 2 hours along our course at a place called Prior Flats. The reviewers all gave it 5 stars, said it was a bit tricky to find, but worth the long drive down a very passable but rutted gravel road. I left our campsite early and headed into Casper to get some groceries (I still can’t believe how expensive food has gotten) and then on to Planet Fitness for a long, steamy-hot shower, and finally to Best Buy to get a Bluetooth keyboard. (My poor laptop is still having issues from the time I spilled water on the keyboard. Richard got me a new one, but it is in Long Beach, and barring an emergency, I’ll manage with this old, broken one until I visit Steve and Richard in the fall.)
From Casper, it took about 2 hours to get to the road leading up to Prior Flats. My GPS told me it was 9 miles and 22 minutes (that’s never a good sign) up to the campground. Hey, things in life take as long as they take, right? I passed a sign, so worn by wind and sand it was no longer legible. I looked at my GPS that was searching for a signal which it never found. I drove on and came to a fork in the road. Neither seemed to be a continuation of the road I was on, so when in doubt, lean left. After 15 minutes, I crossed a cattle grate and a hand-painted sign that read “BLM land accessible through private property.” I remember reading in one of the reviews that you had to cross private land to get to BLM land, but that was part of the agreement with the property owner, so it would be fine. I drove on for another 10 minutes and got to a ranch that had a sign that said “No Trespassing.” The road I was on continued past the driveway to my left, but I felt I was lost, so turned around in the driveway, and headed back to the fork. I took the road that went to the right and drove way too long. I saw a pick-up truck coming toward me in the distance. I pulled over enough for him to get by, but not enough that he didn’t have to slow down almost to a stop to pass me on this narrow road. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out. He rolled down his window and shouted “Howdy.” I said, “Am I by any stroke of luck heading toward Prior Flats?” He and his passenger both broke into laughter and he jabbed his thumb indicating to look behind him. There, about 50 yards up the road was a sign. I couldn’t read it from this distance, but it was the same distinctive shape as National Forest and National Grassland signs. He said “You’re hear, partner.” I laughed with him and thanked him, and we drove up the short road to the campground. The first loop was pretty full of tents. There were two open spaces, but they were under trees and not ideal if I wanted electricity later. I drove up the road and found another loop. Most of the sites were back-in gravel “driveways” under a canopy of tree branches. Beautiful, but not functional for me. I found one that had trees on both sides but open on the top and backed in, got level, and settled in. My back window faced an immense prairie that went on for miles and miles. Out my front window was an aspen forest. It was absolutely breathtaking.
[ASPEN FOREST] [PRAIRIE]
I had 3 bars of Verizon when we got settled in. I was watching a movie on Netflix at night when a thunderstorm rolled in and knocked me offline. By next morning, I still had no internet connection.
It was overcast and cool out and threatening to rain. Not a great day to be without cell service and internet, but I decided to make the best of it and opened my kindle app. I had a variety of books to choose from none of which had been downloaded. So I went to my audible books and found one by Michael Pollan—“How to Change Your Mind.” I’d already listened to it about a year ago and a friend of mine just told me this week that he had done a Netflix documentary by the same title.(Thanks Angie. I LOVED it!) I watched that two nights ago, but I so enjoyed the book and the documentary that I started listening to the book again from the beginning. After about an hour, the sun broke through and I decided to take the garbage down to the dumpster and get Cosmo out of the van. After I dropped the garbage into the bear-proof container, I heard music…music from the ‘60’s. It was Donovan’s Season of the Witch. We walked down and when the song was over I shouted SEASON OF THE WITCH. He looked up and said, “You know Donavan?” I said “Absolutely.” A female voice came out of the camper saying, “He knows Donavan?” She came out and introduced herself and we chatted for barely a minute before she asked if I’d like a beer or a glass of wine. I chose red wine and we sat and talked for the next 5 hours.
Two guys came down from the mountain on their ATV’s and sat with us at the picnic table. They didn’t have a mouthful of teeth between them, and they were definitely good ol’ boys, but somehow, we all sat and talked and had the most delightful afternoon. Darcy and I really connected, and I so enjoyed spending time with someone I felt really “got me.” Cosmo spent most of the time under the picnic table, and when we got up to leave, everyone commented on what a wonderfully behaved dog he was. I am sure I had that same look my dad had when someone would compliment him in a restaurant when we were well behaved kids out to eat. I was such a proud papa. And by the way, Cosmo turned 5 this week. He really WAS a well behaved dog…at least that day.
My phone went wild at 4:00 a.m. the next morning. I got the tone indicating text messages were coming in and one that let me know e-mails were coming and going. The cell service was back! I had debated moving to a new location if I had no service the next day. I have people checking on me, and I know some would start to worry if I didn’t reply within a reasonable amount of time. I had planned on staying here at least a week, or maybe more if the food and water holds out. Once the cell signal returned, I decided I’d almost certainly do that.
Lessons from the Road: I do so much better when I settle into a place for a few days, or longer. I stayed at Casper Mountain for 4 days. The first day was mostly spent recovering mentally from the hazardous drive up the steep switchbacks and getting settled into a spot that was not even close to level. The second day was spent exploring the nearby area. At 8,000 feet, hiking is tough for me. The air is so thin that I get out of breath just bending over to tie my shoes. But I did manage to walk between one and two miles every day, often broken up into two or three outings. The third day was spent just being there. I sat inside in the mornings and drank coffee and looked out at the side of the mountain facing my rear window. I watched a deer come down to visit and marveled at the number and types of butterflies and the wildflowers surrounding me. The 4th day was near 90 degrees out (and that means even hotter in the van), so we stayed outside in the shade. A mild breeze actually made it pleasant sitting under a large aspen tree. I read some, then listened to music. No one was within a mile of me, so I sang along without worrying that anyone would be disturbed by my screeching. I remember a saying that someone shared with me once: Sometimes I sit and think, and sometimes I just sit. Yup. That was day four.
I’ve had tech issues this week. My laptop is still limping along. The keyboard is broken, so I got a Wi-Fi keyboard that was working fine. Then (I suspect the heat had something to do with it) most afternoons I could not type because anytime I tried to type, I would get a long string of bbbbbbbb’s. I think the laptop keyboard was shorting and typing b’s everywhere. I could still watch YouTube, or go to any website, or do anything that didn’t involve typing, but not being able to do e-mail (or make a daily entry to this report) on my laptop was annoying.
My website crashed 2 weeks ago. I’ve been dealing with the web hosting company trying to get it back to where it was. Someone apparently hacked it. I’m not totally convinced that the web hosting company didn’t at least “assist” in the hacking in order to sell me more services. I now have an anti-hacking plan for $299 a year, and it appears that is outsourced. So one company takes the Malware off, but leaves the website not fully functional. The hosting company says that SiteLock is responsible for fixing things, and SiteLock says to get my Administrator to make changes (*I* am the administrator and if I could do any of this myself, I wouldn’t be dealing with these high-priced goofballs in the first place.) Anyway, the website is up and cleaned of malicious code, but is not yet fully functional. I’ve spent time each day going back and forth with the players trying to get them to put it back to where it was. There was a time in my life that I completely built an entire website from scratch using HTML code. Those days are gone. Things are supposed to be much simpler now, but I’ve not kept up on software changes, and things change so rapidly that even the program that I used to build my current website 2 years ago is different now, and I can’t remember what I did to get the results I wanted.
Then, a few days later, after a thunderstorm my cell service and internet went down completely. I decided that was a sign from the gods to take a break from electronics. I needed to unplug for a day. So I sat outside and read. A day with the trees and birds and squirrels was very nice. And I’m literally where the deer and the antelope play. I saw a heard of antelope running across the prairie.