Interstate Adventures

After we were settled at our campground in Waurika, Oklahoma, we took a walk to check out the other campsites, like we always do. Sometimes we note the most scenic site so if we return we can reserve it. The best site to us doesn’t just include a view of nature, it also demonstrates style and panache through outdoor lights, hammocks, and grills. 

We walked by a small spot on the lakeshore with a tent and someone proudly held up a very large fish that he must have just caught. We also passed a party of trailers that had a shared outdoor living space, and one site had a swing hanging off one of the few trees in this area. People were quietly talking with one another. There was no rush or work to do.

My ears picked up distant fingerpicking from a banjo with the gentle beats of a bass. I grew up with my dad (pictured) playing the banjo, but I have never heard a banjo and a base played together like this. As the sounds became louder, my legs slowed down. The banjo twang anchored by the bass’ soft tones filled the space between the campsites. 

I glanced toward the music. They did not have a view of the lake or a tree to hang a swing from. There was a large camper parked on an angle with a rug placed outside of the door. An awning provided the only shade. I could see a bass that was bigger than the person who was playing it. There was a man sitting across, in a folding chair, picking away on his banjo.

When I returned later to see if they were still out there playing, a guitarist and singer had joined the group. It sounded like laid-back fun. As we drove toward our next stop in San Antonio, TX, I thought about my guitar at home.