Interstate Adventures

I was self-conscious when I moved into my spot at Salisbury Beach Campground. This was not my first time camping solo in the van. I pulled all the way back to the end of the concrete so the Yakima storage box hung over the grass. I opened it and wondered if I should take out both chairs. I took out just one. I hooked up the electric and water. Then I moved the picnic table around and put out the mat. Other campers watched me and I figured some wondered where my husband was.

I had just returned after three months of traveling, part of the time solo and part with Bruce. As soon as I got home there was a graduation celebration to coordinate. After all this my bedroom looked like a tornado whipped through it and the kitchen still had dirty party dishes. There the van was, parked in the driveway, just outside of the kitchen window. I noticed the weather for the next few days was going to be gorgeous. 

After I set up the campsite, I sat outside and took some deep breaths and remembered why I came here. I sipped on water and noticed the birds were acting territorial as they hopped around and under the van. I did not blame them. They had this campground to themselves since late October. 

It did not take long for me to chat with my neighbors. It seems like everyone here is from Massachusetts. Two women wandered away from their group of campers toward my site. As I suspected they came to ask about the van. One of the ladies wanted to downsize from her giant camper that I could see across the way.  She mentioned her husband was interested in a smaller unit. I invited both of them go in. I mentioned “You are in the biggest unit and you are about to see the smallest.” They asked me where I kept all my stuff. I said “at home.”

Another couple of women walking a dog waved hello as they passed by. When I waved back they took it as an invitation into the campsite. I did not mind. Since I was solo, I welcomed the conversation. They told me they liked the van. One lady went so far as to say if her husband passed away she would get one. Then she realized how that sounded and quickly followed up with, “I don’t want him to pass away but if he did!” The other woman told me if she had a van like this she would never go home. They understood the tug of the van just by looking at it.

As I sat in the chair at my campsite, I wondered if I was selfish to catch my breath and begin to process what’s next at a campground that is 30 minutes from my house. I smiled as I thought about leaving my job in higher education a year ago and the newfound freedoms.

I noticed the sun started to set and it looked like a promise for the weather to come. I decided to walk over to the shore to join the other campers to get a better view. My mind felt clearer already as I began to plan the next trip in the van from Boston to Seattle. I knew I would pack two chairs, I just was not sure how.