Quarantine Camping

THE WAR DEPARTMENT invited three of her friends over to the house for a girls’ get-together once the China Virus quarantine was lifted. “You can stay if you want. I imagine you’ll want to hole up in the bedroom while they’re here, though.”

There was no way I was going to dodge her chatty friends for that long. My office is open to the living/kitchen areas of the house, so that was out.

I can write anywhere, and often prop up in bed like Mark Twain did with his old typewriter, but I had a better idea. “I’ll take the new trailer out for a few nights on a shakedown trip,” I told her.

It would have been a great idea, but I quickly found that state parks, national forests, and national grasslands were closed due to the virus. Even the privately owned RV parks I called were closed. Frustrated, I hitched the bumper-pull up to the truck and pulled out.

I steered onto the highway with no particular destination in mind, other than to see how the trailer felt out on the highway. We’d only pulled it for a short fifteen-minute drive after we bought it, so I wondered if it’d feel dramatically different from the 14,000-pound fifth wheel we traded in.

Finding myself on the highway, I accelerated and realized I could barely feel the camper. The road felt great after I had been locked up in the house for so long.

The next thing I knew, I was blowing down the road with the windows open, feeling the wind in what’s left of my hair, and listening to Born to Be Wild.

Two young girls went around me in a convertible. One glanced over and saw me singing along. I gave her a bright smile and was rewarded with the information that I’m number one.

Disappointed in my ability to impress the young lady, I gave up on the day and pulled into Doreen’s 24 HR Eat Gas Now Café parking lot.

I almost parked in one of the regular spaces and then realized the trailer was attached. Instead, I steered around the perimeter and parked along the fence separating the lot from the big pasture beside the café.

The big trees just across the fence threw shade into the lot. There was little humidity in the air when I stepped out of the truck. Taking a deep breath of clean air on the way into the café, I glanced the shaded camper and had a brilliant idea and went back.

The breeze was cool enough to open the trailer, so I took advantage of the circulation. None of the boys’ trucks were in the lot, so instead of going inside, I started a pot of coffee on the propane stove. While it brewed, I placed a couple of chairs under the awning and sat down.

Like flies to honey, Wrong Willie soon appeared. He steered into the lot, saw the camper and pulled around to back up near the trailer, the same way we do it on the deer lease.

He emerged with a wide smile. “Rev! You camping here?”

I explained that everything was closed, and I parked the rig at Doreen’s just to get out of the house. I honestly hadn’t thought about staying all night until then.

He sniffed like a bird dog winding quail. “Is that coffee I smell?”

“Sure is.” I jerked a thumb over my shoulder. “Get us a couple of cups.”

“You have cream?” His question floated through the screen.

“In the fridge.”

“Hey, this new camper is cool.” He emerged with two steaming mugs. “I love those bunk beds.”

“The War Department wanted it so we could take the grandkids.”

“They’re huge.”

“No, the kids are still small.”

“I meant the beds.”

“Oh. We can get three kids in each one. Two adults can fit.”

“You mind if I spend the night here with you?”

“Sure.” I pointed at an exterior door panel. “Open that up.”

He did, and discovered the slide-out stove and refrigerator. “Wow! I’m cooking breakfast out here in the morning!”

Willie quickly called home and explained that we were spending a couple of days in Doreen’s parking lot.

While he was talking, Doc turned into the lot. Woodrow was in the cab with him. Jerry Wayne was right behind in his pickup. The next thing I knew, they’d backed up, forming a semi-circle of pickups facing outward.

We were camping!

Lawn chairs appeared and they settled in. Woodrow rested for only a moment, then frowned. “We’re missing something.”

“What?” Jerry Wayne thought. “Oh, yeah. A campfire.”

Willie jumped up. “I’ll take care of that.”

“Whoa, boys!” I held up a hand and almost spilled my coffee. “Doreen’ll draw the line at a fire on her parking lot.”

Willie waved the thought away. “Hold on a minute.”

Hurrying to his truck, he opened the toolbox in the bed and came back with a portable campfire that operated on propane. “Look, no damage. Bought it last year. This thing is great.”

Willie opened the outside refrigerator to display the contents. Ice rattled into glasses, cans popped open with a fizz, and we were in business.

The sun settled behind the trees and the boys decided they’d all spend the night. Willie was cooking whatchagot stew for supper when we heard a shriek.

Doc stood, ready to run. “Here comes Doreen, and she don’t look happy. Rev, she did say we could set up camp here, right?” When he saw my expression his mood faded. “You asked, didn’t you?”

“Uh, no. Hadn’t thought of camping all night when I first got here.”

“I’ve got this.” Woodrow stood and held out one hand. “Stay safe, Doreen! No more than six feet! We don’t have any masks!”

She paused, hands on her hips and studied the assemblage. “Fine then, but you’re gonna pay to stay. Sixty bucks per night, and five dollars extra for each one of you.”

Doc sighed. “Fine, but we get to plug into your electricity.”

“Fine.”

We have an extra-long power cord, and I was soon plugged into an outlet on the café’s side. Negotiations over, we settled in for a fine night at Doreen’s Campground because, hey, you do what you gotta do in a crisis.

Email Reavis Wortham at ContactUs@fishgame.com

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