For screenwriters, the opening credit sequence of the Paul Newman movie "Harper" is a lesson in how to introduce a character to an audience. In a dark room, an unshaven, hungover Paul Newman stumbles off a pullout couch to drag himself over to a kitchen. He dunks his face in a sink of ice water, then starts to make coffee and discovers there is no coffee left in the tin. With a look of self disgust followed by resignation, he reaches into the garbage and pulls out yesterday's filter and used grounds, then reuses it to make his morning cup of joe. He takes a sip and winces. Kisses a picture of his mother. Then straps on a gun and exits his office. On the door - Lew Harper, Private Investigations.
Sometimes I think about my own character introduction. If my life was a movie, which scenes should be used to share my story? Which life moments are not only significant but also reveal the essence of my character?
That depth of self examination gets uncomfortable real quick. No, I haven't re-used any coffee grounds lately, but I can definitely think of scenes I wouldn't want anyone else to witness - especially from these last 10 months of traveling.
Here are a few stories from life on the road, to illustrate just how un-glamorous car camping life can be. If they are a little too revealing about my character, so be it.
Story 1:
Back in September I went to see Niagara Falls. On the American side it was a gorgeous sunny day. On the Canadian side, there was so much mist from the falls that it seemed like a rainy day. Everyone on the sidewalk above the falls was getting soaked. Smart folks had ponchos or raincoats; I had neither.
I rather enjoyed the fact that none of the tourists could take pictures or videos without subjecting their devices to the elements. Influencers were stumped. Nature was winning. I was feeling gleeful and energized by the power of the falls.
My clothes were soaking wet by the time I got back to my car. I put towels on the driver's seat and got behind the wheel. I reached behind my seat and got out a change of clothes. Rather than drive to a rest stop, I decided to change my shirt in the front seat real quick. I glanced around, and - seeing no one else in the parking lot - flipped off my wet shirt and reached for the dry one.
Almost immediately I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. I froze, clutching my shirt to my bare chest. I glanced up....and made eye contact with an elderly woman now standing directly outside my window. In that split second when our eyes met, I saw comprehension, mortification and regret. Was it hers? Or my own reflected in her eyes? I sunk down in my seat as much as possible. I attempted to shrink down to the quantum realm. When her car finally left I pulled on my shirt and hightailed it back to the states before the Mounties arrested me for indecent exposure.
Sojourn on with my centerfold self!
Story 2:
Grant Marsh Wildlife Management Area in southeast Montana was one of my favorite dispersed camping locations this year. I stayed there in October 2023, when I needed a quiet place to pull over and sleep for one night.
It was off-the-beaten path, quiet, and located next to the beautiful Bighorn River. It was perfect for my purposes. I pulled in after dark, and this was my view in the morning:
There were no amenities - no toilet or shower house - but I could do without for one night. Before turning in I made use of the bathroom at Love's Travel Stop about 10 minutes down the road, then drove back to my spot.
(For the record, Love's has the cleanest gas station bathrooms on the road these days. I don't think twice about carrying my little bathroom kit in there and brushing my teeth or washing my face. And I always buy something to show my appreciation. And clean my toothpaste out of the sink.)
Anyway - back to Grant Marsh. It was a cold night for car camping, but I was well prepared for it and I slept well. In the morning I delayed getting out of my sleeping bag due to the cold. Eventually my need was somewhat... pressing. By the time I crawled out of my warm sleeping bag and into proper outdoor clothes for the 33 degree October dawn, my need had been upgraded from "pressing" to "insistent". I was able to hustle over and "answer nature's call" at the base of a tree nearby, in a hole that was half-filled with leaves and rainwater. Relief!
Without dwelling on details, I'll just say that I keep a plastic gallon bag with necessary supplies under the drivers seat for "natural toileting" moments. I returned the bag to the car, then strolled down to have a look at the river.
It was pretty cold, and as gorgeous as the river and the marsh were, I decided not to linger. I was ready to hit the road.
That's when I realized that I was missing my cell phone.
I backtracked. Where had I been that morning? Not very many places - my car and the river - that was it. I searched my entire car, then down by the river and all along the path in case it could have possibly slipped out of my pocket. I asked Saint Anthony and searched my car again.
When I ruled out everywhere else, I had no choice but to think of a certain special hole in the ground. Ew Ew Ew Ew Ew! Yes, back to the hole filled with rainwater, leaves and my own recent contribution. I found a stick and gently explored the hole beneath the tree. I'd never felt less glamorous. I wanted to find it, but I also REALLY DIDN'T want to find it.
Thankfully, it was not there. Hurray for me. I didn't pee on my cell phone.
I re-checked my car again, and this time I found it in "no man's land" after all. You know it - the Bermuda Triangle area between the driver's seat and the center console. It had been hiding behind the CD holder that I had wedged down there to fill the gap after the LAST time I lost my cell phone in that same spot. I was annoyed, but also very, very, very, very relieved.
Sojourn on with my hydrated self!
Story 3:
I was at Olympic National Park in early November at gorgeous Ruby Beach and I was having an amazing morning. I had been exploring and scampering around and generally feeling like a kid - have you had that feeling recently? It's fun! There was a combination of things happening: I hadn't slept very well, but I HAD enjoyed a double dose of my morning coffee - so I was jacked up and my sense of reality was a little off already. But in a good way. I was kind of floating. And then I discovered this beach and was having a ball exploring it. It reminded me of beaches in Florida as a kid - climbing over dunes and finding seashells and rocks and driftwood and sea creatures. I mean, look at this magical little playground...
Then I discovered the caves at the base of the cliffs. So cool! And nobody was around, so I had them to myself! They weren't super deep, but some of them were large enough for 10-12 people to sit in comfortably. Next thing I knew I was hiding out in my own private cave, enjoying the sound of the Pacific Ocean and letting my mind wander.
I don't know how long I had been sitting in the cave, but I think it had been a while. It was like sitting inside of a white noise machine. I may have been reading something on my phone or staring at the rocks I'd collected - I had definitely lost track of time. At some point I decided to remove my winter hat (which had been on my head since sleeping in my car) and to check out how bad my hair was by using my phone camera. It was comically bad. I vainly took a photo for use in the blog.
I decided my eyes looked pretty with my blue jacket and my blue scarf and said to myself "Hey self - let's take a few more selfies, that'll be cool!"
"A-hem."
I lowered my camera phone and peeked out of the cave. And saw a line of people that stretched down the beach, all patiently waiting for their turn to look in the caves. While... I... took... photo... after.... photo... of... myself. Ahhhh....Rule. :)
Sojourn on with my selfie self!
So, most of the time, as these stories clearly illustrate, I'm not the cool main character I wish I was. Too often I'm the villain getting in my own way. Or, at best, someone else's comic relief? I guess there are worse things to be.
In any case, at least I'm trying to get out there and do some main character shit. For better or worse, no matter what, it's all material for the script, or fodder for the bottom of the bird cage, right? I'm no Paul Newman, but he's no Jenny Rule, either.
Sojourn on!
Thanks for sharing so much of yourself.