On RV Parks and Being Someone I’m Not

Admittedly, I spent most of the day in a pretty somber mood. Nothing overly depressing, no crying or despair, but a fair amount of apathy paired with overall discomfort.

My period is three days late which is really rare for me. It’s been to the day, 28 day cycles, for 6 months. I’m not worried, I’m more wondering why I am having to endure this extended luteal phase. I’m also still sniffling. I have been sniffling since March 20, and I finished a 5 day Z-pack three days ago. What a bummer. When my period comes, I expect to have relief on all fronts.

Today I drove through the mountains, from South Denver up toward Vail and into Arapahoe National Forest. This rig drives pretty well. Given the aforementioned somber feelings, I also have that symptom where nothing tastes good. Not food, but content: podcasts, videos, music, mixes, documentaries, audiobooks. Nothing hits the spot. This is one of my tell-tale luteal signs. So I drove in silence for a while, and this rig rides pretty quietly, even when cruise control kicks me up to 5000 rpm or so. It’s a pretty peaceful ride compared to my first van (which I put about 30,000 miles on and it didn’t have cruise control 😭), and I’m so grateful for that. I rolled the windows down every so often, excited for mountain air and ions. White River, maybe, runs along this stretch of highway, which I believe is i25. I also like rolling down the windows by the water. It was a super sunny day so the river really sparkled, and things are all fairly green right now too. Last time I drove through here, September, it was raining, sleeting, and snowing. I’m so happy to see it like this.

I think about Mars and of course I miss him. His dog tag hangs above my driver’s seat, my forever co-pilot. And I love when I remember I have my “I’m slow, I know,“ bumper sticker on my rear, so people cruise past me while I coast along at a cool 56 or so, especially climbing into Vail which sits at 8,000 feet or something.

I’m glad I booked the campsite for tonight well before I left Denver. I’m tired, I’m sick, and I’m awaiting the arrival of the blood so I’ve learned in this phase I like to know where I’m going so I can know how long until I’m horizontal. This means I’m factoring in not only the drive but also the set-up time once I arrive. I can feel so crabby on the days when I gauge this and realize the energy level does not match the output that will be required of me when it’s time to do the tasks. This applies to anyone’s life. RV parks are new to me. I only stayed in one one time on round 1, in Red Rock area in Vegas. That was when that really kind guy just gave me his adapter after watching me struggle to understand what to do.

RV parks are convenient but I have yet to find any that feel… hmm… nice? This one is close to being nice. And that’s also not necessarily a requirement. But people (including me) are kinda loud and smelly and this may always feel a little too close in proximity to each other for my liking. But I’ll trade that for a shore power connection and pressurized water sometimes. Ha. I have a city water connection next to my water tank, 30 amp power, and this site even has a black water connection. This is considered “full hookups.” It’s nice because with full hookups I can simply plug in and have all my systems on. It’s so funny to me, just feeling like a Polly Pocket, and I just plug my little house in and had a ton of conveneices. It’s still feeling like more than I may need. But this morning I turned by heat on (propane) and oh my goodness that was niceeeee. Right now my fridge is running, full of yogurt and chicken sausages and sparkling water. My power outlets work because my 30amp gives me 120 volt outlet power. My A/C could run if I needed it to. I’m somewhat out of shape as far as my knowledge of my systems, and this system includes a generator and converter panel. My old van was so simple. And I realize how much more I like the solar to inverter to battery power setup I had customized in my old one. So, maybe I’ll route solar into this and get an inverter. I know the longer I spend in here the more clear my necessities will become to me.

After my evening walk, which felt so good after a majority of the day driving, I noted how half this park seems to be transient travelers and the other lower half of the campground is permanent. I could tell by not only the smells, but the accumulation of things and trash and overgrowth, and even a chicken coop down by one of the trailers. I thought about these ritzy mountain towns and how it’s really no different from islands, etc., anywhere that becomes desirable for vacationers. I’m sure half these people at the bottom of the campground work at the resorts, etc. and this is the only affordable situation for them. It really makes me wonder what the tipping point will be for these places that price out their workforce. Who will bartend and serve at the restaurants and give massages and take people on excursions, etc.? This is certainly not a new issue but it’s newer for me to observe after a few years on the road and watch these discrepancies grow.

That river ran along one side of my walk, which is what I intended to look at, but now I couldn’t stop looking at the campers that clearly have been in these sites for years and years and years. And not only being amazed by simplicity and ingenuity, but also by how run down, overgrown, smelly, and sad things can get when people are what I assume is exhausted by the just getting by of it all for so long. I bet most of them never intended to stay.

As I walked along, a silver SUV spat out a little boy who was greeted at one of the perma-campers by who I could assume was a grandfather. The road is tight so when I saw the headlights of the SUV shining ahead of me, I stood on the side and stopped so it could pass without bumping me into the river below. It wasn’t passing, just slowly following behind me, wheels crunching the gravely sand. I couldn’t see because the darkness and headlights in my eyes but I gave a little smile to acknowledge I was waiting. As the SUV began to pass me, the driver rolled down her window and made very clear eye contact with me. She said, “Hey Cindy!” and smiled, waving, holding my gaze. I figured after a beat, connecting clearly, she’d realize it’s not Cindy. But she didn’t! I just continued smiling and half-waving, as this all only made sense to me in narrative form after the interaction of course. Instead of saying, “oh never mind, I thought you were someone else,” she very jovially said, “it’s so good to see you!” and then she drove away.

I blinked like the meme guy, I’m sure you know the one. The funny part to me in thinking about this interaction is that this is the third time in earnest that someone has really, really thought me to be someone else, and specifically exclaimed that it was good to see me. While, in the one instance the woman at a coffee shop in Urbana, Illinois actually said, “I can’t believe you’re finally here.” So I’m not exactly sure what’s happening in the multiverse when this occurs, but I do like thinking my familiarity is bringing people joy. I wonder if they really think I’m someone. If I have just a sort of archetypical energy that people are connecting to, or if they know perhaps its not the person, but that they’re visiting them through me. That’s the most fun interpretation though I know it’s most likely a friendly mistake.

I wonder then, does the silver SUV driver go home and say, “I saw Cindy today!” And then that person says, “how could you have, I just heard she’s in Alaska for the season.” It’s so curious to me. I hope it keeps happening.

The deer were snacking around the saplings when I got back up to my RV site. They must do this a lot because they were quite unphased by me. Now here I sit, writing with my mountain view, and a fluffy orange kitty came up to my door, meowed, and had a seat. That is definitely the best part about the bottom half of the park having a permanent population.