I will admit after nearly 3 weeks alone on the road I’m not inclined to be with, or around, people. I like being quiet. I don’t want to know your story, nor do I want to tell you mine. I just want to be quiet. I have found my zen.
If I had more balls I’d camp on Forest Service land away from people. I’d find a quiet piece of land and throw my tent up. Unfortunately, I’m not that brave when I’m alone and not packing any kind of self-defense. So, my routine is to pull into a campground, set up my tent, have dinner, and then hunker down in my tent. I will read my maps, play solitaire, or go to bed. Quiet. Easy. Zen. Tonight I’ve been pushed to my limit by the family next door.
Their kid is a jerk, but it’s not his fault. He has an ass for a Dad. I’ve been listening to him the scream at the Dad. Then Dad scream at the kid. Apple can’t get away from the tree. I’m not sure if the kid is a jerk because of the Dad or if the Dad is responding to the kids attitude. Either way it’s not healthy and more important, for me, it’s not peaceful NOR quiet.
The way I see it, camping should be fun. If it’s not for whatever reason, pack your shit up, go home, and try again another time. Look, crap happens, I get it. But, please, you sir and your devil spawn are being asses and are ruining my zen.