Car Camping

While I do have stories to tell, I thought this week I’d take a moment to share some travel tips I’ve learned on my (relatively short) journey so far.

Stealth camping is a mainstay for many folks who live full time on the road. Often, stealth campers will try to find spots that don’t necessarily allow overnight vehicle sleeping – places like residential or city streets, hotel parking lots, hospitals, and even cemeteries. For me, I must say I just can’t do it yet! Whether my parents instilled a FEAR OF THE LAW, or I just have an intrinsic pull to play by the rules, I gravitate to places that allow, if not welcome, overnight parking / car camping. It’s kind of like – if someone doesn’t want me there…well, it just doesn’t feel right to me.

That being said, it would be a herculean task to know the municipal, county and state laws for each location in which one wishes to sleep. The entire state of Florida doesn’t want anyone sleeping in their vehicles for more than three hours at a stretch in any given state-run rest area. Marion County, Florida doesn’t want folks living in their cars. Other counties and towns dotted across the state welcome car campers and provide open lots free of charge for overnighters. West of the Mississippi things are a whole lot different, with vast swaths of public land open for camping.

When I first set out, my intention was to mainly stay at campgrounds. Of course, I was lucky enough to find a campground that I wanted to stay at for nearly three months. My other overnight experiences have included Cracker Barrel and Planet Fitness parking lots, a friend’s driveway, and dispersed camping. I do plan to try a Loves or Pilot truck stop at some point. However, I have twice now seen no overnight parking signs at Loves - which is why #1 (below) is so important to me.

Here’s how I roll…

1) Call ahead and ask if overnight parking is allowed. Not all CBs or PFs allow overnight parking. *24 hour PFs are the ones most likely to allow overnight parking.

2) Have a Planet Fitness membership ($25 a month) which allows me to use any PF in the world. Showers, massage chairs, and water bottle refills baby! Not to mention feeling better about using their parking lots.

3) Keep track of places I call and visit to note who allows what and whether I liked it or not.

4) Arrive early and scope out the scene from a distance. I always feel best if there are several other campers. Set up my rig and then find a place to park.

5) Find shade.

6) Once I find my parking place, I do not get out of my vehicle for any reason. I crawl from the front seat to the back, put up shades, and welcome myself home.

7) Do not let anyone see me sleeping in my car.

8) If I want to take a shower at PF first, I park in a different spot from the one I sleep in. Sometimes I will leave the area entirely and return a bit later.

9) Always have a backup place. Last week I started at a PF, felt a bit off, left to go to CB which was right next to…you guessed it…a dog kennel, returned to original PF and slept just fine.

10) Dispose of all garbage somewhere else.

11) Don’t overstay. I try to leave before 9 a.m.

12) Share my location with at least one family member or friend using either "share my location" on phone or sending screen shot of coordinates.

13) Have fans fully charged at all times in the hotter weather. Sometimes I let them out of the car so they can applaud from a distance.

14) Make sleeping area smaller in colder weather by cordoning off front seats with a blanket or creating a blanket tent over my bed.

15) Let friends and family know I am completely self contained and happy to visit them as well as their driveway anytime 😊.

16) Be a nice mom so my daughter keeps inviting me to stay with her for a week here and there.

In addition to finding places to sleep, it is also necessary to find places to hang during the day when you’re not traveling. I find public parks and libraries to have shady and quiet parking lots. And, of course, who wouldn’t want to be inside a library for the day?

Finally, I was fortunate enough to recently try my hand at dispersed camping with my friend Donna for three nights in the Ocala National Forest – an inspiring, if not somewhat eye-opening experience to be sure. But that, dear reader, is an event-filled story for another day. Tip: Try the hip camp app to find unique and affordable alternatives to state campgrounds.

Other places that may allow overnight parking include Walmart, Cabela's, Bass Pro, Sam's Club, Camping World, rest areas and I'm sure I'm missing some! Add your favorite places in the comments.

---

Check out Gear I Love for links to products I use and honest reviews.

Be sure to subscribe to the blog here.

Zendo

A month or so ago I was beginning to feel pulled away from my meditation practice. The parameters of semi-communal living (no matter how much I love my friends) can make it challenging to find the sustained solitude necessary for reflection and practice. Indeed, my personality longs for extended periods of introverted quietude. So…I researched and came up with a solution – a five day Zen retreat at a Buddhist Center less than two hours away from my current campground. I signed up, paid the deposit and then…proceeded to let everyone I met know about it.

Ah, humility. As I would meet some new camper and we’d get to talking, my mind would look for a way to sneak in something about the retreat. At times I’d be successful at curbing my desire to puff up about “my” path. But, more often than not I’d speak with a twist to let others know just how grandly I’d evolved in my spiritual practice. “I’m actually doing a five day Zen retreat in a couple of weeks,” I’d be sure to slide in after a bit of conversation with someone around the evening fire. (Meaning : See? I’m a meditator, too. See how far along I am?) Good to be aware I was doing it, I suppose. And yet, I couldn’t seem to stop myself at times.

Then came the week of the retreat. I had been upping my meditation game in preparation and felt well-rested and prepared-ish, yet nervous. I consulted with my own teacher for guidance that this was a good move for me to deepen my experience. This was to be a five day retreat in noble silence with 9 hours a day devoted to sitting, chanting, and working. Sleeping accommodations for retreatants were simple – a space on the floor of the Zendo (meditation hall). This would be the first retreat of this nature I would be attending. Off I went, twin-sized sleeping pad and advice to leave my critical mind at the door both in hand. I was ready!

Driving down the single lane that leads into White Sands Buddhist Center feels as if you are actually traveling through the noble eightfold path, with signs appearing through the canopy of trees as though planted there by gatekeepers of a spiritually enlightened future in which we will someday all be living. I was at once entranced and settled by the mystical peace that, as I was beginning to learn, dharma centers seem to engender. Statues more than 30 feet tall of the Buddha encircled a small lake, somehow lending gravitas as well as serenity to the land. Nestled among other out buildings, the Zendo did not so much beckon as was waiting in unassuming beauty within the natural ascetic of the land.

After a short introduction and a brief beginning ceremony, including a session of sitting meditation, we were given until 9 p.m. to chat until noble silence began and lights out commenced. By 8:30 I was sleepy already, nestled on my pad in my lane of chairs on the floor of the hall. By 9, around 15 of us were snug in our spots – ready for an essential rest that would ready us for an early 6 a.m. wakeup gong and a day full of silent meditation.

By 10 p.m. I had shoved both ear plugs as far in as I could get them and crammed my one pillow over my exposed ear. Approximately every ten minutes or so, a snore of legendary and mythic proportions would erupt from across the room. I have known the kind of snoring in my life that ends marriages, starts wars, and wins competitions. But this - ? Every time I dozed off just a little, I woke with a jolt, getting angrier and angrier that someone could bring this epic snore into a Zendo with 15 other people. Sometime around midnight, I lay there staring at the chair legs and began to feel my old friend anxiety spread out from its hiding place in the middle of my chest. Within a few moments I felt what I can only guess was a full blown panic attack – my heart pushing against the seams of my sanity, worries piercing through my mind like icy shards of hail – would I ever sleep? How would I meditate for a full day on no sleep? How could I be angry at someone while on a Zen retreat? How could I be having the worst anxiety attack I’ve ever had in the middle of a meditation hall?

At some point during those dark hours, I quietly took my bag and tiptoed out to my car/tiniest home. Setting my alarm for 5:30 a.m., I tried to stay in the retreat mindset, but all I could do was lay there and worry about the morning. Knowing my 55 year old self well enough, a night of no sleep meant no retreat…and for sure meant no sleeping on the hall floor with a bunch of other people. In the morning, I found Sensai and we spoke briefly about options. I was offered a room with another woman (who also couldn’t sleep) and was given permission to sleep in my car. Upon his encouragement, I retrieved my sleeping pad and other stuff, returned to my car and tried to “catch up on my sleep” in order to rejoin the group later in the morning. Still, no sleep. Again, I lay there fraught with anxiety and worry and the crushing sense that I was not meant to be there. By mid morning, with as much gratitude and graciousness as a departing car can make, I had pulled out, my old pals shame and regret trailing along.

For the remainder of my time, I found a spot on the wild and birded shores of Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge and sat quietly for a couple of days letting the sea air do its work. My mind rested in degrees and once again found a sense of stillness. I realized that while I hadn’t broken my pattern of pride or learned whatever lessons the retreat could bring, or even survived a night amongst snoring humanoids, I had found rest in solitude as I practiced by the pathless and protected habitats of the intercoastal waters.

For sure the tendrils of my arrogance will follow me and perhaps that is the lesson. For all the things I don’t know, though, I do know this…my mind and however much practice and training it thinks it has had, is a far cry away from bragging rights.

Back to work I go. Next time, maybe I really will leave my critical mind at the door.

Small Victories

One of the things that precipitated my move away from a more traditional lifestyle was a bout of deeply disconcerting juju that happened in my professional life. Suffice to say, for several months I had what might be defined as a mental break of sorts. In addition to not leaving my home without hat pulled low and giant sunglasses encasing my face, the evidence of my low ebb was obvious in the pages and pages of financial calculations I was making to see if I could leave my job. What I found was startling – I was basically working so I could work. What nonsense was this? The trade-off of waiting for a full pension was not in the best interest of mental or spiritual health, so after a brief attempt to work elsewhere, I took the leap.

This was not a small victory, but it has cobbled the way for me to take other, smaller leaps that have addressed long (and short) term fears. Indeed, pushing myself and my own perceived boundaries is for sure a benchmark of this adventure of mine. Below are a few of the obstacles I am working to overcome as I travel on down this path.

The Rustling The second night I spent at The Sovereign Nation of Grateful Hammock campground remains memorable to all parties involved.

Upon arrival at the campground, and after carefully considering my options, I had settled on the campsite Wonderland. Wonderland sits close to the edge of the established campsites and beyond it stretches the tangled and dense jungle that is Ocala National Forest. I was cautioned to be very aware of food smells and to not leave food out – practices that every camper should employ anyway. Although this campground does not have bear visitors, it requires vigilance to keep it that way. Not incidentally, along Route 40, which crosses the state of Florida, a bear crossing sign “next 33 miles” greets you as you enter the forest. Bear? Bear!

My second night, I headed down to the communal fire. Upon returning to my site, I could hear a shuffling in the darkness just beyond my car – back and forth, back and forth. It was loud and persistent. My instinct was to make some loud noises – like “hey!” and “ooooooooo”. Still the shuffling! Back and forth. Back and forth. What creature could ignore my loud and scary sounds? A bear? A human male? I made louder sounds, and louder sounds still, until finally my cries carried a panic through the woods and back to Donna and Dan, who came rushing the length of the campground to see if I was all right. By this time, though, I had made a run for it and was in my car talking to them through my homemade window screens.

Definitely not a bear. Or a man. Probable culprit? Armadillos.

I didn’t let this initial experience deter me and I continued to trek each night through the darkness to my campsite, braving the wild and ferocious…uh…armadillos. Each night I could feel my fear loosen. I no longer made a running jump for the back door. And now it has been more than two weeks since I have moved my campsite to the very last one, Sugar Magnolia, a bit deeper into the forest, further sequestered from other campers by the splendorous and dense stands of camphor, live oak, pine, and yes, magnolias. The fear lingers a bit from time to time, but it always dissolves, and the quiet and steadying experience of facing it has nudged me to face other, more twisty and unattractive fears in my day to day life.

I may look fragile, but ...!

Photo Credit: Donna Smutak ("my" Ohio Donna)

Sunshine What do you do when you have a canine phobia? You pet sit a dog for a couple of days, of course! Cynophobia is a real thing. Some dog owners may not be aware that there are people who are actually terrified of dogs. For me, it’s not really a dog phobia – it’s a dog owner phobia. For some reason, I don’t have a great deal of faith in dog owners to not let their dog trip me up, chase me, jump on me, or bite me. This could be because I established a response to dogs/owners when a dog was allowed to chase my brother and me down while we were on our bikes, ultimately biting my bro on the leg. I have identified a strong emotional and physical sensation when I see a dog, especially one that is unleashed. I’m working on it.

My friends here at GHT are so thoughtfully aware of my trepidation and have made every attempt to accommodate me. In this situation, though, why should the mountain move? Taking care of Sunshine, my new bff if you were wondering, has opened my heart just a little bit more to accepting dogs (and their owners) into my life with a more relaxed response. We shall see how I progress.

PS – in the picture above Sunshine had just licked my tongue – something I never thought I wouldn’t mind. I do love her!

Bugs and Dirt Enough said really. Living outdoors requires eating a fair amount of organic material and not worrying about it too much.

Spiders and mosquitos Yes, I did freak out the other night when I thought I saw an unearthly large spider by the campfire. (It was a toad.) Yes, I did squeak a bit and put my legs over the arm of the chair. But, at night when I head back to my campsite, I climb under a mammoth spider and her web (how beautifully she works each night to create a new trap), with only a little itchy discomfort reminding me of my fear. I am starting to understand that it is not so much the spider or the bear that frighten me, but more the unexpected startle of movement or sound erupting from the darkness.

And as for mosquitos, I have adopted the catch and release system for getting them out of my car. Each time I watch them zoom off out of my hand I feel a small swell of victory - and karmic relief.

Pride Ah, for me one of the toughest of obstacles to overcome by far. I do have pride in these small victories. But, in reality they are simple ways for me to coexist within the prospect of a more natural awareness. For pride, I am working on reflection. I so graciously thank you, dear reader, for indulging my reflections. Having readers at all is, quite frankly, a rather large victory for me.

I shall try not to boast about it...too much.

---

Check out Gear I Love for links to products I use and honest reviews.

Be sure to subscribe to the blog here.