Campgrounds - Part 4

On the 4th of July, I found myself at an RV Park in Moab, Utah.   Located on a bluff, I could look out on the red rock all around the city.  That night, I sat with a German woman and watched the fireworks display which were set off at the campground I originally meant to stay in.  We also watched firetrucks zooming around putting out grass fires set by people who didn't notice the signs indicating dangerous dry conditions.

The temperature when I got to the RV park was 103 degrees, but it cooled way down at night.  I slept very well.

I didn't bother taking a photo of the campground near Huntsville, Utah.  It was next to a busy road and not all that interesting.   That was the place where a bunch of teenagers held a beer party in the adjoining site.  I scared them by hitting my car alarm.  Don't mess with this camper!

Though I found most of the campsites I selected during the winter months were closed or otherwise unavailable, I did go to Rye Patch Reservoir State Park in Nevada, west of Elko.  It turned out to be one of the best campgrounds with a lake (reservoir), held in by a dam, excellent tent pads and good showers for a quarter. I threw caution to the wind and put in 50 cents for a fifteen minute shower.

I came away refreshed and happy.  Who knew such a beautiful place could be found in the middle of the Nevada desert?  

Next came another National Forest campground, this one  near Susanville, California.  By this time in the trip, I understood that the rangers at the stations took a look at me, figured I was old, and sent me to campgrounds that were filled with people.  I always smiled and headed to another camp.  In this case they wanted me to go to Merrill campground in the Eagle Lake District of Lassen National Park.  I went to it, took a look at about a hundred RVs and kept going to Christie Campground six miles beyond, where only ten campsites were filled.  It was still on Eagle Lake but oh so quiet.

This campground was among the tall Ponderosa pines.  I laid my tent on the pine needles which made for extra soft sleeping.  It was here I spotted the white headed woodpecker.

I slept soundly but covered with extra blankets, because the temperature plummeted to 40 degrees, the coldest night of the trip. 

The next morning, in spite of the cold water, I went into the silty lake, just to say I had done so. I only lasted five minutes.