People who camp a lot or live fulltime in an rv develop their own style and priorities.
For instance, how do you position the rig in a campsite? When in a campground with defined parking places, there isn’t much choice. Boondockers, however, can usually choose exactly how to park. To me that’s part of the fun of it – creating my own outdoor living area. The crew and I have been exploring the Darby Well area of the desert, looking for future places to camp.
We find a lovely site.
It has a stunning view of the mountains and is ringed on three sides by the wispy branches of Palo Verde and a few stately saguaros. It’s elevated, which I prefer, and the rocky road up to it has only a few washed out places that our PTV pulling the BLT can easily traverse.
The crew and I walk around it.
Wow! Nice!
I try to imagine how I’ll park. Hmmm …
I soon discover the only choices are up close to the road with the door opening into the road, or facing the other way putting sharp rocks and the lesser view on the door side. I see that the ground where I want to place the BLT is severely sloped.
Now it doesn’t look like such a wonderful campsite.
So what are the considerations when parking an rv?
These are the things I look for. The first is beauty. What is the 360 degree view? I don’t want to live in Camp Ugly. I suppose there’ll be times when I have no choice, such as an overnight stop when travelling from point A to point B. I’m talking here about a more lasting campsite.
I consider a lot of factors.
How level is it? Is there any chance of getting stuck? Will a heavy rain wash out the road? Is the site visible from the main road (something I want to avoid, others may want that)? Will I be violating any rules? Will the sun warm one of the windows in the morning to help take off the chill? Will the sun be too harsh on the door side of the Casita? How will the sun’s rays strike the solar panel? Will I see the sunset from my dinette window? Will the wind hit the Casita broadside? Am I low enough to be sheltered from too much wind? Am I high enough to get television reception? Cell phone?
Whew! Time for a break. Go get a snack or hit the restroom. I’ll wait . . .
Okay. Where were we . . . What will I first see when I step out the door? Are there any dangers for the crew nearby (like the desert cholla)? Is there a tree for a bird feeder? Will it be where I can comfortably sit and watch it? Will other rvs be in my view or within my hearing? Will I be in theirs? What is the surface of the ground going to be outside the Casita door? Are there sharp rocks that will tear the patio mat? Do I need the patio mat on this ground? How easily will I be able to take the crew on short walks from this campsite? (Can I do so without being caught in pajamas?) . . .
I don’t go through each and every one of these questions when looking at a potential site. It’s more automatic than that. It seems tedious when written out here. In real life it’s fun! Especially when everything, or almost everything, turns out to be right where I want it!
The crew and I go visiting!
After a day of rain, it’s a warm and sunny morning for walking up to Caron and Chris’s camp. They invited us for coffee. Bridget and Spike meet their big, black, and beautiful Dixie. Bridget, after rudely snarling at Dixie, sneaks off to rub her back on the underside of their motorhome, getting dirty, while Spike marches around their campsite, making his marks, scratching the ground, and acting important.
Dixie, on the other hand, sits serenely at Chris’s feet, her silent way of saying “whatever” at Spike’s lame attempt to claim territory and Bridget’s low-class behavior. As for me, I enjoy talking with Caron and Chris, mostly about rving, retirement, and how much we love both.
The recent rain brought new flowers!
Thanks to readers who suggested I try Picasa for my photos. (You can click the photos for an enlarged view.) Do you think there’s an improvement?
rvsue
rvsue and her canine crew 