Tiny Tim is tucked into his air-conditioned home, safe from the elements. Our third solo summer camping adventure is a wrap. When camping at the John C. Campbell Folk School in Brasstown, North Carolina, I had a chance to share a meal with my 88-year-old Aunt Lillian. She follows my summer escapades, fondly encouraging me to seize the present and pursue my dreams, emphasizing how swiftly time passes in later years. Listening to her reminisce about her own life, I am deeply moved by her expressions of gratitude.

My aunt and uncle lived simple lives. Aunt Lillian worked as a secretary and my uncle as a mason and in his later years, a court bailiff. While my mother and I flew around the country like banshees, they contentedly lived their lives in familiar places.

Aunt Lillian says she doesn’t believe anyone lived a better life than her. Married to my uncle at 17, she says he was the love of her life. They celebrated 60 years of marriage before he passed a few years ago. Honestly, we weren’t that close, and from afar, I failed to see the joy they experienced. All I could focus on was the heartbreaking loss of their daughter Cathy at 24 to cancer.

Empty Nest

The nest lay empty when I turned sixty a few years ago. The house is quieter now that our fledgling is no longer living at home. On my best days, I brim with courage and optimism, believing I will master life at this age. My superpower? A lifelong talent for reinvention. And then I’m reminded of the warming planet, erosion of democracy at home and worldwide, and the Artificial Intelligence tidal wave coming for us all. These disruptions are happening as I become older and my powers of reinvention weaken. I do what I can to prepare our son Jeremy, teasing him about how my grandchildren are likely to be a blend of human and machine.

No longer young, turning heads, and getting catcalls, I’m learning to embrace cronehood – cellulite and all. I try not to groan too loudly when I stand. And to my surprise, I’m beginning to find beauty when I observe my female compatriots in their aging bodies, many of whom take a proud posture in their wrinkled selves. My new interests, long-distance road travel, astrology, astronomy, and teaching kids about Florida history, feel exactly right. If I weren’t feeling dread regarding the aforementioned, life would feel perfectly magical.

Life at 60

The first order of business for this next reinvention was to address my need for outdoor time. Before I began my road trips, I wasn’t getting enough time alone in nature. Our couple vacations of a week or two of flying somewhere are fun. And yet I’m yearning for a different kind of travel, deep immersion experiences versus the usual fly-in, fly-out touristy thing. The kind of travel where you get the feel of a place and its people. And I do love driving; I do some of my best thinking while driving.

On that first summer adventure of 2022, I decided to go big and rented a 25-foot Class C Mercedes Navion for an 8,000-mile trip Florida to California returning through the Southwest. I wanted to bring both of the family pups and would need the space. Handling a vehicle this size was a new challenge. I said my prayers and made it through some harrowing situations. The beakdown in Gary, Indian was particularly stressful.

When I reached Wisconsin it became clear I would need to trim my sails. The private owner I’d rented the rig from was flexible on my return date – for a few days. I was behind more than a few days on the ambitious pace I’d set for the trip, California’s gas prices were more shocking than the plot twists in a telenovela, and the Southwest was hotter than a jalapeño. Once we reached Utah, we began making our way home through the Midwest, sadly ditching Sedona and many other gorgeous desert destinations. All in all, the journey was a perfect blend of mishaps, detours, and unexpected turns! The grand total? 7,194 miles in 40 days.

Miscalculations

On my second summer trip I’d need to make many new adjustments. Renting that luxury rig was a one-time move, signaling my entry into the 60s club. Even if I had the cash to buy one, I didn’t fancy being cut off from nature by the Navion’s rock-solid insulation and sleek European design. So, I went for the next best thing within our budget – the classic pop-up! I figured I’d enjoy waking to the symphony of birds singing and insects buzzing in my canvas-enclosed bed. And I was happy to trade the simplicity of using public campground showers over the maintenance issues that come with an onboard bathroom. Managing onboard water tanks was a chore I’d learned about traveling in the Navion. But there were problems with this “simple” pop-up.

By day 21 of that second summer adventure, I was exhausted by the Rubik’s Cube challenge of set up and break down. As the days wore on I found myself losing all joy in the journey. There were other miscalulations. It was painfully clear that this trip’s setup, speed, and destinations were far from ideal. Three days after returning home, the Forest River Clipper was history, sold off in a cash deal. I still get a little queasy when I see a similar rig. Total mileage for this comedy of errors: 2,228 in 39 days.

Nailing It

I’d had more than a few revelations since that second stressful trip. The planning process now involved googling average summertime temps first before reserving campsites. And “simplify” was the word dominating each decision. I acquired a low maintenance, easy set-up rig – the Aliner Scout. At 13 feet, “Tiny Tim” fits in the garage with space to spare. My kitchen setup? For easy low/no cook meals: a microwave, electric cooler, and a grand total of two plates, two bowls, and one insulated coffee tumbler, and a bag of assorted utensils that probably belonged to at least three different cutlery sets.

And the pièce de résistance – my mini-Nespresso machine. Because roughing it in a state campground doesn’t mean compromising on the morning brew.

I aquired an easy set up 12-foot pop-up screened room that has proven useful in rainy weather. Didn’t need it once on this trip. The simple green umbrella with its solar lights provided shade by day, and a cozy ambiance by night. And my proudest aquisition, a new e-bike, was perfect for hilly mountain rides. It traveled safely on the Aliner tongue strapped on a bike rack I designed myself!

And most importantly, I slowed down this third summer trip, spending five to seven days at each campsite. Most stops were conveniently located within a stone’s throw of each other – okay, maybe more like a few hundred miles. The grand total mileage for this escapade: 1567 in 30 days.

Favorite 2024 Summer Destinations

Winfield Campground in Appling, Georgia was our first stop, a gorgeous US Corp of Engineer campground, proved perfect for my quest for solitude. It earned a place on my return to list. Next up, Sesquicentennial State Park and Congaree National Park in South Carolina where we had a chance to visit with a dear friend. Warriors Creek Campground, another excellent US Corp campground in Boomer, North Carolina was within easy driving distance of Elk Knob State Park in Boone, and Price Lake in Blowing Rock. Our last stop was a campsite at the John C. Campbell Folk School in Brasstown, North Carolina where I was enrolled to take a class in metal art – a truely memorable experience.