Salado Rest Area camping area, Highway 167, Arkansas. June 2020. |
After a week in Missouri, it was time to strike out again toward the southwest ..... to Livingston, Texas. My goals to achieve there:
- Vote in the spring 2020 runoff election, which had been postponed, because of COVID-19, from its usual May time to July
- Simply spend time (and some money) in Livingston to cement my relationship with Texas as my official home state
- Meet up (safely) with my Houston and Livingston friends
When I left Missouri, I knew I'd overnight in Chez P at Arkansas' Salado Rest Area on Highway 167, a bit south of Batesville.
I have a history with this pretty rest area. Every time I swang by here on my way up or down to South Louisiana, I stopped at Salado Rest Area. Because it's pretty and because I so love that it is a rest area with actual campsites.
It was with some excitement that this time, I would actually use one of the campsites!
I arrived before dinner, and chose my site for:
- Attractiveness
- Proximity to restroom
- Relatively short distance for a rapid exit, if needed
- Proximity to night time light source for a feeling of security (not actual security, mind, but the feeling of security)
I backed Chez P into the campsite driveway so I could shoot straight out if necessary.
View from my campsite, Salado Rest Area, Highway 167, Arkansas. June 2020. |
For dinner, I pulled out a can of Chunky soup, a bag of carrots, some crackers, and an apple. An unexpected visitor arrived and I shared some soup with her.
Dinner guest at my Salado Rest Area campsite, Highway 167, Arkansas. June 2020. |
After dinner, I anticipated that other overnighters would begin to roll in on this Friday night. I welcomed the additions, as I feel safer in the middle of a herd of other overnighters in a rest area.
But no one came. No. one.
Anxiety about being the lone camper in a rest area that attracted stoppers-by throughout the night punctured my buoyant camping spirit a bit. I reminded myself of this: The vast majority of humans simply want to go about their business, neither wanting to be molested nor wanting to molest others, so get a grip on reality, girl.
When I arose the next morning, I saw that a couple of other travelers had, after all, stopped for the night, including one in a tent.
Every time I pass a night like this, it makes the next time easier. Which is good because I aim to camp in the future in a dispersed camping area on public lands, where I'd be far from a main road and facilities.
When I say "easier," I refer to a process that moves me toward right-sizing safety fears. It is out-sized fear that keeps us from doing so many things.
A campsite at Salado Rest Area camping area, Highway 167, Arkansas. June 2020. |
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