Coming home–again

I left Big Bear five days ago, just as the long Fourth of July weekend was gearing up.

I got tired of the mosquitoes biting me and the rangers telling me to move camp every few days. I had found what I thought was the perfect spot, complete with a view of Big Bear Lake, but once again I was told I couldn’t camp there.

Oops, forgot to get a shot of my camp. This was taken nearby in a forest straight out of a Grimm’s fairy tale.

The trouble isn’t that the rangers are being unfair, just that dispersed camping rules are set up for people who sleep in tents, not vehicles. It’s okay to park your van/truck/car close to the road but you have to actually ‘camp’ (as in put up your tent and sleep in it) at least 200 feet from the road.

I don’t tent camp

My back would not appreciate sleeping on the ground, for one thing. Bugs and I don’t get along, for another. I like my nice, comfy rolling steel tent (as my friend Al Christenson calls his van).

So, after the last ranger visit, I found myself getting homesick for San Diego.

I thought about Quivira Basin, where I spent many delightfully cool days last summer, and the marina next to it, where I had discovered I could stay overnight without being hassled. I salivated at the thought of eating an organic vegetarian breakfast at the deli in Ocean Beach People’s Market. And I longed to walk Scout at Dog Beach without swatting at mosquitoes and black flies — or scratching.

Then I realized that is the whole purpose of vandwelling: to be able to go where you want, when you want. In other words…

…freedom

I had held a subconscious belief that returning to San Diego was an admission of failure, that somehow I couldn’t make it as a ‘real’ adventurer. Well, it’s certainly true that I am not ready for wilderness survival, and may never be. I love MOVIES about people living by their wits out in the wild, and maybe it’s best to just enjoy the show.

I am the one who gets to decide how and where I want to live. There is no one in this head but me and my Inner Critic. I decided to evict her, then and there.

So I packed up for the last time (this trip) and drove into town fill up the tank, then stopped by Linda and Silvianne’s campground to say goodbye.

Scout and I rode down the mountains, back and forth on the switchbacks, past the endless line of holiday campers going the other way to cram several months’ worth of fun into the next four days.

I said goodbye to the mountains — for now

No complaints. It’s a quiet, beautiful place and I’m glad I spent a month in Big Bear. I will go back someday.

But now, I am ready for the bustle and convenience of the Big City.