I leave Camp Granada feeling a bit traumatized. As if my week of campground chaos has not been enough, as I am trying to make a fast and clean getaway, a nice young couple in an 800-4-RENT rig pulls in behind me at the dump station, just as I am gloving up. The man approaches with some trepidation, and in a heavy British accent asks, “Mind if I watch? This is my first time at this, and I don’t know how. I am hoping you don’t mind if I look on?” Continue reading
Having My Way in Westport
19