The Weekend — June 5 – 7
In the last exciting episode of RVSue and her canine crew, Bridget, Reggie and I board the Perfect Tow Vehicle and make our way deeper into Siuslaw National Forest.
I hope to find a quiet camp for the weekend at Clay Creek Campground.
The hush of the forest and the patterns of light and shadow across the roadway put me in a near dream state as we follow the road sixteen miles south from Whittaker Creek Campground.
More photos of green for those who tired of desert brown a few months ago.
A big truck with a load of logs comes around a curve — hey, didn’t we go through this already? — only this time the truck’s rate of speed allows us both time to get out of each other’s way on the narrow road. I’m alert now!
Clay Creek Campground is similar in some ways to Whittaker Creek.
It’s BLM with a fee of $10 regular/$5 with senior discount pass. Clay Creek has group sites and a ball field, which Whittaker Creek lacks. However, Whittaker Creek has a camp host and Clay Creek doesn’t right now.
I love driving into a campground for the first time.
The sites near the entrance are too dark for the solar panel. Gee, no one is here. How nice.
We continue cruising the loop.
Oh, there’s a tenter. Don’t want to park close to that site.
Bridget and Reggie whine and bark to be let out.
“Okay, good idea. Let’s walk the rest of the loop.”
Reggie picks out a level pull-through for us.
“I agree, Reg. This looks good. C’mon, let’s go back to the PTV and get ourselves settled.”
The Best Little Trailer is in the shade and the PTV’s solar panel is in the sun. Perfect!
Later the crew and I enjoy our second walk of the day.
We explore the campground and follow the road to where a bridge crosses Clay Creek. (The remaining photos in this post are from that walk.)
Idyllic, right? Just what I was looking for, right? Peace and quiet, right?
WRONG!
Shortly after dark, as the crew and I are bedding down, I hear voices from the direction of that tent. Hmm. . . . sounds like twenty-something men.
Three or four males experiencing extended adolescence become increasingly loud and foolish for the next several hours.
They play hide-and-seek (I kid you not) in the dark on the campground loop, laughing and calling to each other even as they pass by our window. I check the clock.
One-thirty-four in the morning.
I doze off and wake again. Something certainly is hilarious over at the tent. Clock check: two-thirty-eight.
Hmm . . . I wonder what it’s like down at Whittaker Campground right now. Where’s a camp host when you need one, eh? Well, maybe those boys will leave in the morning. This morning. In a few hours.
They do leave and others take their place.
Lots of others! By noon the campground is almost full. Without a doubt this day turns out to be the absolute worst campground experience I have ever endured in almost four years of full-time camping.
Hands down.
I sit in my lounger with the crew nearby.
This is what goes on: a child cries incessantly, a man yells at the child to stop that damn crying, someone in the next site is playing lumberjack with an axe (chop-chop-chop), an OHV starts up and rumbles up the road, a radio plays thump-thump-thump while a female “singer” screams through her nose in the popular fashion of today, a motorbike (vroom-vroom) revs, rumbles, stalls, revs again, and so forth for hours, a diesel truck drives up and idles next to the BLT (why?) while Reggie and the dog in the passenger seat exchange furious barks . . . .
The truck finally moves on.
I’d go inside with the windows shut tight but it’s too hot for that.
I turn my head and there goes a man wearing shorts, flip-flops, and a tank top, a top, I might add, that’s unsuccessfully straining to cover his gut. He shuffles along, splay-footed and glassy-eyed, holding a beer can to his mouth.
Oh, dear God. This is so bad I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
I stare at the sky through the tree tops.
Somewhere birds sing a gentle song . . .
I should have looked for boondocks on the way here. I don’t remember seeing any. Oh well . . . It’s only this afternoon and tonight. I’ll tough it out and we’ll leave first thing in the morning.
I love how every sunrise brings a chance for a new beginning.
The crew and I return to Whittaker Creek before the bell tolls eight o’clock on this lovely Sunday morning. I back the BLT into a campsite where we bide our time until a good site is vacated by a weekender.
Whew!
rvsue
NOTE: I apologize for the negative tone of this post. I almost didn’t write the details of this past weekend. As usual, the desire to show both the positive and negative of this lifestyle — including my mistakes — won out. The weekend was hell at the time, but now I can look back at my futile pursuit of peace and quiet and laugh. Stuff happens.
THANKS, RVSUE SHOPPERS!
I appreciate you shopping Amazon from my blog.
Here’s a sample of items recently purchased by readers:
Zipfizz Healthy Energy Drink, Pink Lemonade
Goodyear Ratchet Tie Down – 4 pk.
King Canopy Tuff Tent, White
Bose Mini Bluetooth Speaker
Chicago Cutlery 18-Piece Steel Knife Set
Just Add Color: Botanicals: 30 Original Illustrations To Color, Customize, and Hang
“Reggie! How can you sleep with all this racket?”
