Yep, that’s right. Although I looked at maps and had plans, unless I really knew the camping scene, I wound up driving up dirt roads seeking out BLM land that was clearly posted, NO CAMPING.
Now what? Drive back into developed camping and take chances. One at a time, cruise the lot. Some ominous stares, and guilty looks of understanding.
Ok, options are slim, but at least we know the score.
One more chance, what the hell?
Slowly; cruise by a mix of, comfortably settled, groups in nice camp sites. Once again, a mix of ominous stares and guilty looks of understanding. Church groups and boaters with damn nice gear.
Ok, so now it’s getting serious. As soon as I had that thought, like an angel, Dan strolled out and waved us down. A mix of gracious hippy, drunk redneck, and general all do well. Waving his PBR at us, he said, “you need a place to camp?”
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