I spent 4th of July weekend in South Dakota. Had I planned better, I would have gotten my residency stuff straightened out quickly and gotten my tags and license before the holiday. It was not to be. I hung out in Hot Springs, SD for a week. I stayed on ACE (Army Corps of Engineers) land on Wednesday and Thursday. It was free. By Friday they had opened up a “refurbished section” (meaning they added firepits and picnic tables, and put in gravel “driveways.” Now instead of it being just vast, open land where people could park and stay for free, there are designated campsites. Same surroundings, on the lake, and probably more efficient, but like everything the government does, they took something beautiful and fucked it up. And now they charge for it. But on a holiday weekend when everything within a hundred miles is booked up solid, this place is practically empty. It cost $11 for me to stay on Saturday night, and I’ve booked another campground (also ACE, I believe) for $9 for the 4th. In between, I booked a motel in town. I need to bring a receipt to DMV showing that I’ve spent at least one night in South Dakota. The campgrounds were either free or booked online and don’t give a receipt showing South Dakota because they are reserved at www.recreation.gov. Hot Springs, SD is apparently a tourist town. It’s relatively close to Mt. Rushmore, so I suspect 4th of July weekend is prime time for people coming here. The motel was (I thought) extremely expensive ($129 plus taxes and fees). It is sort of a Podunk town with nothing going on as far as I can tell. However, the nearby towns have no hotels or motels, so maybe they have a monopoly in the area. At any rate, it’s what I needed to do to prove my “residency.”
I’ve spent time the past few days trying to get my paperwork in order for DMV. The “instructions” given to me by the place who secured my new South Dakota address were vague at best. I’ve read that Rapid City where the DMV is for “my” county is very “small town” but that the people are extremely friendly. I’ve got my fingers crossed that I have all that I need, and if not, maybe they’ll have an alternative, or just look the other way.
We had a raging thunderstorm last night. It had been quite hot, so the rain cooled things off, and it was beautiful watching it come in from over the mountains and then move out over the lake. When it passed, it left a beautiful rainbow in its wake.
On the 4th, I moved back to Cold Brook, a tiny campground by a lake. It was about half full, even though on-line, it showed only one site left. Some of the sites (two of the most beautiful ones on the lake) were booked from the 1st to the 6th, and yet, there is no one at either. I’m not sure what their cancellation policy is, but it is a shame that on a busy holiday weekend, people book and don’t show up, and apparently don’t call to cancel, which would have opened up the sites for others to use.
There have been thunderstorms every night for the past 4 days. The days are hot (mid-80’s to lower 90’s) and the thunderstorms come rolling in just before sunset and cool things off. There have often been rainbows as the storm passes and the sun is just setting. There is lush greenery in this part of the state, which is a welcome reprieve from the hot desert dust. It’s also humid, which was strange to me after so many months in the desert.
Wednesday, I woke up a resident of Delaware and went to bed as a full-fledged South Dakotan. All for about $100. I had to go to the County Treasurer’s Office to get my van registration and title changed. The line was out the door, but it moved quickly, and it seemed all the workers were jovial and efficient. It took about an hour for me to switch everything over. I left with South Dakota Plates.
Then I headed to their Driver’s License Exam station a few miles down the road. The waiting room was crowded and I arrived at lunch time, so soon after I got there, half the employees left for lunch. They do take appointments, but I didn’t know that. The appointments take precedence, but they squeezed us “walk-ins”- in between. I waited about an hour there as well and left with a new license. Waiting two hours gave me time to ponder some things. SD knows all the loopholes, and only goes by the letter of the law, not the intent. You must be a resident to register your RV there, but if you show a motel receipt for one night’s stay in SD, then that’s proof enough that you live there in your RV and you are a resident. If you don’t have a legal residence in another state, you must sign an affidavit saying that SD is where you intend to “come home to” after you are done traveling (so whoever is closest to me, send my ashes to the South Dakota Driver’s Exam Station when the time comes. Let them know I’m “done traveling.”)
I hadn’t realized how much stress it was causing me to have to gather so much paperwork together and to travel to Rapid City, SD. Most of it was unnecessary. They checked very little. When it was over, I stopped and bought a pizza and celebrated. It felt like such a huge job had been accomplished. I don’t need to return “home” for 5 years, and then I will need to go stay one night in a motel or RV park again to prove that “I Live Here.”
We spent the night in “America’s Mailbox” parking lot. No frills. In fact, except for tractor trailer diesel engines running all night long, there’s no discernable difference from the adjacent Flying J Truck Stop. They say they are “remodeling” but I see no signs of progress. They are a company much like the one I used to get a legal address in SD, and they are letting people stay there while they go through the process, and will provide them with a receipt to show they stayed in SD for a night. It was close to the road, but the steady hum of cars sort of worked for me as “white noise” and lulled me to sleep. And there was no chance that someone would knock on my door and tell me I had to leave. It wasn’t a pretty parking lot; it had lots of big Class A’s and some run-down pull behinds. The nice thing about sleeping in my van is that the windows are a bit higher than where my head hits my pillow, so when I look out, I see only tops of trees and sky. The waxing moon in the cloudy sky was beautiful. A thunderstorm cooled things down a bit and I slept well.
In the morning, I decided to see where I live. I plugged my new SD address into Google Maps and found 316 Villa Drive in Box Elder, SD.
That’s right. I live in a grocery store. No signs of anything other than groceries. But I DO remember signing forms for TWO addresses. The other one is in TX. They encouraged me to not have mail sent to the SD address because it would be forwarded to TX and they would charge me extra for forwarding. I’m suspecting a double bogus scam on the whole address thing. They use this grocery store’s address for my license, but all mail goes to TX. I’m not sure how this all works, but I’m sure the mail company is making a lot of money (I paid over $100 a year to have the SD address) and somehow SD is making out by having all of us RVer’s “move” there. It’s just crazy. After that I went to Planet Fitness (quite near my new home) and got a shower, then headed off to my next spot in a national forest. I had a close call. Unfortunately, the few sites up the winding, steep, rutted mountain road were all occupied. When I got to the peak, I started down the other side, but within a few yards, realized the road was going to be impassible. I stopped the van, got out and assessed my options. I had to back up about 50 feet, and back into a side pullout. The pullout was quite steep as well, so I had to be very careful not to back in very far for fear of getting stuck. It took me 4 or 5 tries, but I got turned around and went back up the mountain and down the side I came in on. I searched for any possible pullouts along the way down, but there was nothing open. I drove back down and saw RV’s up on a hill. It was a parking lot overlooking the forest in the black hills. I pulled in and took an empty spot. Something seemed off, so I wandered down the hill (on foot, with my trusty canine companion by my side) and discovered it was an upscale resort/casino/restaurant. I went back to the van and called to see if they allow overnight parking. The woman who answered the phone said she’d have to see if they had any spots with electricity left (they cost $30 a night). I said I didn’t need any electricity and she said “Oh. Then just come in and park anywhere.” I did. It’s strange, but comfortable and seems safe and on my way to southern ID where I’m getting my solar system cleaned of a year’s worth of red dust that I’m certain has accumulated inside.
I’d spent a lot of time at the resort parking lot figuring out options for the next day. I found three that looked extremely promising, and I put them in my calendar according to their distance. My goal was to get to the second place (about an hour and 45 minutes away) and if it was amazing, stay there. If not, I’d head on to the third spot a little farther away. (The first spot was just too close and I’m trying to make a little better progress on my way to Oregon). The second spot was easy to find but was horrible. It was a small section of soft black dirt (I WAS after all, in the black hills). It was littered with beer cans and empty shotgun casings and there was a 40-gallon water heater riddled with bullet holes. I drove farther up the road only to find severe, threatening warnings that it was private property after that and that I shouldn’t even think about going any farther. I turned back and headed for the third choice. It was listed on iOverlander as a town park and implied that you could just pull your rig up on a gravel parking lot and enjoy all the amenities the town had to offer. It was indeed a town park—primarily a playground for kids. No gravel parking lot. I logged onto iOverlander and discovered that several people said they just parked on the street adjacent to the playground and “Nobody bothered them.” I clicked on the person who posted this and saw that they were car camping. “Getting away” with sleeping in your car next to a park is fine if you are 22. For an old man in and old van, parking adjacent to a playground, a block from the police station just felt like asking for trouble. I was out of pre-planned options so got back on Campendium and found a Flying J only about 20 minutes away. I’ve stayed at some that are pretty big and comfortable, and passed on a few that were small and sketchy. This one was small and sketchy. But from their parking lot I could see a huge Walmart sign in the sky and found my way there. It was the biggest Walmart I’d ever seen (in Gillette, WY) and the parking lot was gigantic. I drove around, paying attention to the placement of halogen lights (I always seem to get settled in and then realize that I have a spotlight shining on me at night), level spots, and more remote spots. I spotted another van, at the far end of the lot, as far as you could possibly get from the store, and I went and parked along the curb about 30 feet behind him. There were tall evergreen trees just past the curb, and it appeared to be a part of the lot not normally used by customers (seriously, it was probably close to a half a mile from the store entrance.) It was level, and tree-lined with a patch of grass for Cosmo, so it was actually better than any of the places I’d pre-selected. It was a quiet, uneventful night.
I had only one spot on my list for today. No back up plan. The spot was yet another city park, but many reviews said it was beautiful, with lots of trees and grass, plenty of space for even big rigs to set up and right on the river with bathrooms and free hot showers. As I was driving, I wondered what the odds were of it not being full on a Saturday in July. When I got there, there were a few cars, and only one other camper. Other campers pulled in and out throughout the day, filling their water tanks or using the rest room. But by late afternoon, none stayed but for the one Class C that was already there when I arrived. It was very hot and would have been miserable except for the breeze off the river and the availability of actually getting in the river. We walked down and Cosmo didn’t hesitate to get right in. After a quick dip, we went to the park in the center of the gravel circle which was where we parked, and I sat on a bench and Cosmo rolled in the grass. I soon joined him. I’d forgotten how nice grass smells and feels. It has been a long time since I’ve seen any. We really lucked out.
Lessons from the Road: The “slow down” lesson I’ve been trying to learn is apparently finally sinking in. I got into South Dakota on Thursday before the 4th of July weekend. I felt a little annoyed with myself that I hadn’t planned better. I still had to gather some information and documents before driving up to Rapid City to get my van registration switched over. I couldn’t get it done by Friday morning and so that meant finding places to stay until the weekend passed and DMV opened back up on Tuesday. It turned out to be a lovely weekend, and in spite of places being very booked up “on paper” (on-line), in reality the crowds were kept small by thunderstorm warnings every day. When I woke up on the 5th, I believed I had everything I needed to drive to Rapid City and formally switch over my residency, but it was all on my computer. I needed some items printed out and I have no printer due to lack of room in the van. I checked and there is a library in town, but it doesn’t open until 11:30. If I’m very efficient and if the library makes it easy to print everything, then I can still be in Rapid City by about 1:30 or 2:00. I’m not sure that will give me enough time to get both my tags and license (they apparently have to be done at two different places). In another life, this would stress me out to the max. But my brain is apparently changing, and I realize that I can’t make everything happen on my time frame. So I’ve resigned myself to go to Rapid City, see what can be done and if I need to stay there an extra day to get everything completed, so be it. If I get hung up at the library, I may even stay here in Hot Springs another night and get up and get an early start in the morning. My new mantra? I’m a wild seed, let the wind carry me.
I’ve had a lot of tent campers near me this week. They pull into their campsite, usually in some sort of sedan, and start unloading their trunk. They get out their tents and sleeping bags, and folding chairs. They put their Coleman stove on the picnic table, or they get out charcoal to use the fire pit/grill at the site. Watching has given me some time to contemplate my position in the hierarchy that runs between tent camping and living in a luxury home. When I left Delaware, I thought I still lived in a luxury home—it was just smaller than the one I’d just sold. I have everything I need (and then some) to live my life in contentment. As I watch “the tent people” I realize I have more in common with them than I once thought. When I stop, I have to level up every time. With my leveling gadget, it has become much easier, but on rough terrain, it can still take a half hour. I switch the van over from DC power to AC, and I switch the fridge from DC to propane. All easy steps, but still steps. (When I lived in a real house back in Delaware, when I got home I didn’t have to level, or switch power sources.)
I see the tent people filling water jugs. I have to do that, only my “jug” under the van holds 40 gallons, so I only have to do it about once a month if I’m careful with my water consumption…and believe me, I’m VERY frugal with water. At home in Delaware, they came and filled my heating oil automatically. On the road, I have to keep an eye on propane levels, and find a place that can replenish me when I get low. I mentioned the tent people getting sleeping bags out and preparing their tent for sleeping. I do that every night. I take up the cushions that make up my “dining room/office” during the day, put my table down to fill the gap between seats, and rearrange the cushions into a bed. I get my sleeping bag out of the cubby where it lives. I’ve found it easier to use the sleeping bag rather than make up the bed every night with sheets. When it is hot, I sleep on top of the bag; when it’s cold I get inside. It comes down every night and gets rolled back up and stored every morning. When I leave a site, everything gets put away, battened down, locked up. If I forget, things are flying around as I drive. (sometimes they do anyway). When I stop, I take everything back out.
About once a month I must empty my grey water (water from the sink and shower that’s stored in a tank under the van). If I’m in a remote place, I just let it go on the ground—it’s just water and biodegradable soap. If I’m in a campground or around a lot of other people, they frown on that, perhaps thinking I’m emptying a sewer tank. I also have to find places to dispose of my solid waste and garbage, usually at a gas station when I stop for gas.
These are all easy things to do, but I realize they make me much more like “tent people” than like the home-owning city dweller I used to be.