Life Has My Back...And Sometimes My Front

 

Gros Ventre Campground, Grand Teton National Park, WY

I am currently sitting in the amphitheater parking lot of the Gros Ventre Campground in Grand Teton National Park.  It is a delightful 65 degrees outside so despite the parking lot atmosphere, I am enjoying an evening outside.  Why the parking lot?  Turns out there are about ten million people in Jackson, Wyoming right now.  Really, doesn’t anyone have to work anymore? 

All the campgrounds and RV parks are full—or claim to be, remind me to get back to that.  But first this:

Yesterday, I stopped for the night at the Massacre Rock State Park near Pocatello, Idaho.  A nice campground along the Snake River (pictured above) but good only for a quick stop; the traffic from the interstate is a constant buzz in the background. 

Beagle needed her tanks emptied so I pulled into the dump site on my way to my pitch.  It was about eighty degrees outside and I was dressed in my khakis and a long-sleeved t-shirt.  Now, my fellow campers know that cleaning out the tanks is never a pleasant task; it doesn’t get any better when you are hot and tired.  So, as I was laying out my hoses, wipes and gloves, I decided to strip down to my tank top while I did the deed.

Being hot and tired, I wrenched my t-shirt off, noticed that it caught slightly on my ear, and tossed it into Beagle.

This was one of those dump sites that (thankfully) have a hose for rinse water but the hose hangs about fifteen feet in the air on some kind of spring so that you have to pull it down and keep downward pressure on it while you run the water.  As I am doing this, I note the sign indicating it is not potable water (not unusual) and that, when I pull down on the hose, it leaks from that fifteen-foot peak.  

Yep, right down on my head.  

That’s when I glanced down at my chest to see how wet I was getting and realized that, due to it being my birthday, I had put on a sexy black-lace tank rather than my usual opaque cotton.

OMG.

Thank god there was no one behind me in line.

Later that evening, preparing for my shower, I noticed that I was missing one of my earrings and surmised that it must have come off when my t-shirt caught on my ear.  It was too dark to search for it at that point so this morning I walked the dogs back over to the dump station.  We searched but did not find it.  I was saddened as they are a favorite pair.

Back at Beagle I was doing a quick vacuum (yes, don’t laugh, you try camping with Opus) but decided not to vacuum my door mat as I had about five more trips in and out before we hit the road.  As I bent down to pick it up and shake it out, guess what I found?  Yep!  My earring.

See how lucky I am?

And my luck carried forward today; I pulled into Jackson with the other five million people and tried to get a spot at the RV park in town.  I wanted to have someone make me a cocktail, do some shopping and enjoy a small town for a bit so figured I could deal with an RV park for a few nights. 

Turns out they could not deal with me.  Despite the fact that they clearly had openings, the check in lady refused to give me one of them.  The park was filled with Class A’s and, I think, she didn’t think Beagle worthy.  At one point she said, “The one place I would stick you [I kid you not] is already taken, and it would just be a waste to park you in one of the large spots.”  A waste of what I had to wonder?  A waste of their perfect line of Class A’s?

(All of this was reminiscent of my time at the Tubac RV Park in Arizona two years ago…remember that?  After a day of doing laundry in my bikini top and shorts [come on, it was over 100 degrees!] the lady in the office asked me, as politely as she could manage, “You are leaving tomorrow, right?”)

Like the Tubac lady, this lady clearly did not enjoy me, the Beagle or the Noses so we headed here, the recommendation from my neighbors back in Lee Vining.  The “Campground is Full” sign was on full display as I pulled in so I just rolled down my passenger window and said, “I see you are full, I’ll just head up the road.”

The nice gentleman replied, “If you are heading up to the dispersed sites, you will find the road closed just ahead, they are sending cars back down.”

Of course that is where I was headed; I am not sure if it was my look of disappointment or the fact that River and Opus had their heads out the window getting a good rub from him, but he suggested I park here, in the amphitheater, and that he would find me a spot in the morning.  Then he wished me “a pleasant evening young lady.” 

He clearly enjoyed all of us.

It’s not bad here in the lot:  There are other campers, although few parked like I am (Mr. Nice Guy told me the secret of the second entrance so that Beagle’s windows and front door would look across the valley to the Tetons); my neighbors behind me have three young boys and they adore River and Opus so it has been a banner day for the Noses.

To top it off, I quickly found my Lee Vining neighbors, camped in a real site about two hundred yards away.  It was nice to meet up with them again and share my discovery of the Ruby Lake Wilderness.

A few nights here with (hopefully) lots of hiking then I am treating myself, not to the Four Seasons (too expensive and not worth it with the Noses), but to a cabin down in Alpine for a few nights.  Just in time for Sunday and Monday Night Football. 

You didn’t really think I was giving it all up, did you?  

I might even do some yoga.

I'll definitely do some laundry.

-K

PS:  As I am sitting inside Beagle doing my edits, the sun is setting in front of Beagle’s windows and behind the Tetons; the campground's deciduous trees are aflame with color and I couldn’t be happier.  Or perhaps more drunk...seems I feel the need to open some Sancerre whenever I am camped in a parking lot.