Wednesday, September 21 . . . Where to camp?
The crew and I further investigate the shoreline for a good campsite. Large, flat, water-worn rocks border most of the shore in this area. Yesterday evening when we walked down here there were only two campers. Now there are five and they are crowded close together because of the wide ruts and big rocks restricting where campers can maneuver and park.
There’s a lot going on down at the lake.
A guy has his truck doors open so we can all hear his choice of music. It’s just loud enough so mercifully the lyrics are unintelligible, just the boom-boom-boom. A guy in a Class C starts a generator. Is that his way of saying hello? Another guy casts out his line, props his rod, and walks off (one of my pet peeves). Two jet-skis roar past. People are talking and laughing, drinking beer. A woman squeals. I instinctively recoil at all the people-made sounds in such a serene setting. I’m glad they’re enjoying themselves, but I bet these folks don’t quiet down until late at night.
The crew and I wade into the water.
It’s very clear, and delightfully cool and soothing. The day and the lake are so beautiful that the annoyances fade from my ears and my mind. I set my camp chair in the water. Spike immediately lies down in the water to relax and survey the scene.
Bridget is timid at first.
I coax her around my chair with the leash and words of encouragement. She high-steps around me, her confidence growing . . . “Gee, this is fun!”
Bridget reminds me of a very young child marching around in a puddle to make splashes. Her eyes are big. She wants to see my reaction to her antics. “Wow, look at you! What a BIG girl you are! You’re a water dog!”
Her confidence grows to where she goes out far enough for the water to cover her back as she holds her head high!
Now I have two water spaniels!
We walk up the hill to our quiet, private campground. I let Bridget off-leash. She’s feeling perky and proud after her aquatic display. She runs part of the way, kicking up dust, then stops to watch Spike and me catch up. She does this all the way. What a muddy, happy mess!
It does my heart good to see her lose her dainty, cautious ways and just let loose. We females should do that more often. Just have fun, darnit.
I like the quiet solitude of our camp.
The crew can wander about the camp freely. I can sit in my camp chair and read. The silence is lovely, interrupted only by birds or the distant drone of a motorboat down at the lake.
Thursday, September 22nd . . . What a lazy day!
After a walk to the shower house and breakfast, Spike and Bridget mosey around and take naps in the shade of the Casita. I read my kindle almost all day . . . . The heat of the afternoon sends us down to the lake for a swim. We eat outside and watch the sunset beyond the lake.
You know what I love about my Casita?
By drawing up the blinds at the rear of the camper, I can lie in bed with my head on my pillow and look up at the stars. The crew and I sleep with two windows and the roof vent open. The temperature is just right for sleeping, no need even for the Fantastic fan to operate.
Friday, September 23rd . . . Still no neighbors!
I’m feeling ambitious so I clean the exterior of the Casita, right down to her white wheels with their red and blue striping. Somewhere recently I drove around a corner right into a bed of road tar in my lane. Tar is splattered on the fiberglass wheel wells. I want to look up how to remove it, but, alas . . . no internet!
I write the blog entry (offline) about our arrival here and then we go for a swim, followed by supper, sunset, and stars.
And so it goes until we leave Sunday afternoon, having thoroughly enjoyed our stay at Conchas Lake!