It was nearly
midnight on Saturday, but firecrackers were still exploding near us. We had
made the mistake of staying overnight too near a college, and some boozy fraternity
boys were celebrating something or other. Another time, a noisy football game
was starting up in the parking lot in the middle of the night.
As this shows,
staying overnight at Walmart—sometimes called “blacktop boondocking”—can be
annoying or even hazardous. There are
many other reasons as well to stay elsewhere: traffic on nearby streets is
often noisy, there are no campground showers, and even the toilets may not be
available before 8:00 AM. As an environmentalist, I have been extremely unhappy
with the expansion of big-box stores, too. Why should I take advantage of the
parking spaces they provide?
However, it is
nearly impossible to resist the many plusses of parking overnight at Walmart.
First, it is free! Camping for more than a few nights, even in low-cost
campgrounds, can become expensive. The ubiquitous Walmart stores are often easy
to find, and the parking lots tend to be more level than those in campgrounds.
(We grow very tired of leveling our rig with leveling blocks.) The bright
lights and security at Walmarts protect us as well as the stores. Shopping for
common items there is easy; I have sometimes found RV supplies that are
identical to those at Camping World at a lower price.
So, we often find
ourselves at Camp Walmart. Usually the landscape leaves something to be
desired, but occasionally it is attractive. The store in Scranton is on a bluff
overlooking a valley; I remember watching the moon rise as lights were coming
on in the houses below us. Some other stores are near wooded areas, and by
careful positioning we can sit at the dinette and look out at that view.
Perhaps our worst
experience was in a store near our home in California. We had had some repair
work done late in the day, and to avoid driving home at night we stopped at
Walmart. We checked for signs forbidding overnight parking, found none, and
fell asleep. In the middle of the night we heard a commotion just outside, and
some loud talking in Spanish. Peeking out showed us a crane with some workers
high up on it painting a lamppost and hanging one of those “No Overnight Parking”
signs on it. We played possum and hoped
they would not drip paint on our rig. Luckily, they did not, and in the morning
we made our escape.
Though many of
the Walmarts seem to welcome RVers, some do forbid staying overnight. Municipal
ordinances, rather than Walmart, may be responsible. The store that seemed most
adamant about this issue is the one near Gettysburg, where huge signs warned of
dire consequences that included being towed away. We paid attention and stayed
at an expensive campground instead.
The infrequent antipathy
toward RVers may have something to do with the boorish behavior of some of us. We
have watched, incredulous, as people have spread huge Class A motorhomes across
six or seven parking spaces. Others have unrolled their awnings, unfolded their
lawn chairs, and barbecued in the parking lot. People like that may cause so
much irritation that all of us are banned, which would be a shame.
We try instead to
be as unobtrusive as possible, even after checking with the management to make
sure we are welcome. That means staying in travel mode—not putting out the
slide or raising the TV antenna, and looking like shoppers rather than like
campers. We always buy some groceries or other items, and may have breakfast in
the store if a McDonald’s is in it. Our small motorhome easily fits in two
spaces.
Yes, we would
prefer staying in national forests and parks, with intermittent stops at places
having hookups for electricity when necessary. Walmart helps fill in the gaps
between more desirable places, though. It’s a bit like McDonald’s—not too
helpful for the environment and a possible contributor to the obesity epidemic,
but a cheap source of clean toilets and orange juice.
