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Rollin'
Wheels
My
wife and I occasionally discuss the subject of traveling and camping and how we
have « grown » from tent campers in
a campground to the vagabonds we are today. A
hundred years
ago we world camp as
much as possible with others, a group thing. It was all right, it was the
thing to do at the time, but we seemed restrained a bit as out of politeness we
remained « socially correct campers » We yakked at breakfast, never
strayed any further than the pool, yakked at lunch, at supper, and made a
campfire in the evening. It became mundane. We tried this type of weekend trip
quite a few times, but it just did not work for us. Eventually we did it with
only our own
little family, and as the birds got their wings, gradually they flew off
and we camped alone. The birds did not leave us, they just tried out their new
found wings, and now many years later we find ourselves camping with them
sometimes.
We
awoke to realize that we are not ordinary weekend campers, nor are we normal
travelers. What are we? Dunno, but we sure are enjoying the life and what
surprises that come attached to it.
Recently
while we were crossing from Pensacola to Panama City in the Florida Panhandle, a
mildly dull run I must say, we threw a question on the table, « Who would
we invite to travel with us? » For once, we mutually agreed
that we could think of no one. However
we could see certain people in certain situations, but definitely in the
totality. It is hard being a vagabond, you have to work on it, be fearless in
some instances, appear stupid in others and learn to live cheaply in order to
remain out as long as possible. As the country song says, » I am getting
pretty good at just getting by ». Today, even at modern prices we can
still camp out and average less than $2.00/day for campsites.. We shower on
beaches, in yacht clubs, truck stops and unpaid campgrounds, schools, YMCA’s
and a few others.
Sometimes
we awaken the day with absolutely no idea of what our destination will be that
day, nor the interests we might find. This is decided over breakfast and even
then it could all change if luck serves us a choice prime-rib of a beach or area.
There are days when we feel like driving and rubbernecking, and we’ll do five
hundred miles, other days we wind up in the same spot that evening.
Traveling
is an exploring event. It is also living an adventure…well not in the sense of
crossing the country on a bicycle or canoeing the Mississippi or St.
Lawrence….but it is an adventure. The adventure is found in those who dare
search it out. The secret is to enjoy the liberty of chosing a daily destination
and embracing the surprises that we may discover along the way. Do you know that
in all our travels that we have never gotten lost?
No, never, but we have found many many new places though. You might say
that we reap the harvest of miles in our own solitary fashion. We ask only that
the Good Lord ride with us, to protect and guide us in our wanderings, making
Him the only one with whom we can share the road.
Well,
the difference between a good trip and a great trip is about a quarter inch....the
thickness of the window of a tour bus. (Jimmy-isms)
My
favorite mode of doing it in the outdoors, is by far, cycletouring, but I can be
convinced to take off on a moment's notice to go just about anywhere......where
the population is no more than 20k people...in our little camper.
We
are the ones who camped all over in a '75 Volks Westfalia...old Peace 'n
Love. Traveling with that was a constant question mark on what would break and
when.
