ENCOUNTERS ON THE ROAD

We are settled for the night at a Walmart in New York state, having started out too late to find a good campground. Not far outside our dinette window, a young man has set up a mobile detailing business, complete with pressure washer and hoses. We’re incredulous—in California, storm sewer openings are labeled with a sign warning that the drain leads to a waterway, and water used for washing cars is supposed to be recycled.  The young man tells us that in New York, what he is doing is perfectly legal.

He had returned home after a couple of years away for reasons he left unspecified. He traded a dozen bottles of beer for a 350-gallon water tank, got some free or low-cost hardware, and invested some money in the pressure washer only. Then he went into business in some public spaces, including some Walmart parking lots, apparently without any objections from Walmart, charging customers a low price for a quick detailing job. We had to admire his entrepreneurial spirit.

That reminded us of some other people we have met in our travels. When we stopped at Morro Rock in Kings Canyon, another young man was sleeping in his car, obviously avoiding campground fees. As any food might be seen as an invitation by the local bears, he stored his containers of food in the toilet building.

One hot summer when we were visiting Yellowstone, we went to the parking lot at  Old Faithful extremely early, fearful that we wouldn’t find a shady parking spot later on. A tiny car was parked near us. As we were eating breakfast, the car doors opened. A young couple (still wearing pajamas) and their huge dog emerged, apparently having spent the night there.

Sometimes the people we meet are a pure joy. When we were blundering our way through Ontario, we stopped at a Mennonite coffee shop and warily asked the way to our destination. The waitresses not only gave us accurate and clear directions, but drew a map that was easy to follow. Unfortunately, even knowing which way is north seems beyond most people, so we were extremely grateful to these women.

Others come up with just the right information by coincidence. When Thane was on his way east this year in the hope of helping with Acadia National Park’s Night Sky festival, he stopped at Dinosaur Monument in Utah. He asked an NPS ranger to change a $20 bill so he could pay for a campground site. She couldn’t do that, but casually mentioned a star party to be held that night at Dinosaur. He was able to participate in an excellent program.

Some encounters are downright scary. At the Bridge campground in northern California, we saw what looked like a monster rising out of the creek. It turned out to be a large man wearing black wetsuit headgear; he was a good guy removing trash from the water.

One night at the Columbia River gorge, we drove to an overlook for a spectacular view of the gorge. No “no overnight parking” signs were in evidence, and we were tired, so we stopped for the night. A young man driving a pickup that held an apartment’s worth of furniture was parked near by, and it turned out that he was staying overnight, too. He told us he was moving to Oregon from Texas, but he appeared to be living at the overlook full time, and sleeping on the cab seat.

We have met a few European travelers, who all seem fascinated by North America. Some have gone to extraordinary lengths to travel by RV here, shipping their own rigs over the Atlantic at enormous expense. We hope they can stay in North America long enough to justify the cost.

Winnebago View and Navion RVs are rare enough to inspire some loyalty and fraternal feeling among owners. When we went to the Quartzsite rally last January, we met a man who had organized a special View/Navion gathering. For a few days, we were surrounded by our tribe, a great bunch of people. The same man who was responsible for this gathering has been a savior to many owners who frantically post their problems on a Yahoo! Site while en route—he answers with advice that has probably saved thousands of dollars and some marriages. 

A woman pounded on our door in the middle of the night in Winnipeg, saying her rig was out of gas and she wanted money to buy some. We turned her down.

And so it goes—wherever we travel, sightseeing sometimes is overshadowed by the people we meet or avoid meeting. It’s another fascinating facet of the RV life.