Day 2: Waking in Ventura

essay

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

I don't know whether it is because I am unfailingly thrifty (read: miserly) or because I am morally outraged that Schwarzenegger's failed gubernatorial wranglings have adversely affected the state park system's normally reasonable fee structure, but at 4:30 this morning I awoke from a dream wherein I was escaping an exceedingly militaristic campground manager by packing and vanishing under the cover of night.

So I packed and vanished under the cover of night.

Don't get me wrong… it was a beautiful spot, even if I had to erect a tent in what appeared to be a largely gravel and ground glass parking lot. And the ocean's playful sloshing not 30 feet away from my front flap was a calming pink noise throughout the night, even as the flanking two-story diesel motorhomes created a tooth-jarring moire of mismatched motors that massacred my mind into a migraine. No, I really wanted to wake up in the middle of a bright and shiny morning at Ventura's Faria Beach Tent and RV park.

But that damned dream haunted me.

Sure, the ground was hard and my air mattress lacked a pump. Yes, I had to sleep in shivery coolness on top of my bedding to maximize cushioning, but none of that mattered. What did matter is that they felt it was fair to charge me $32 for a night of all of this. The icewater showers. The foreign family shouting what sounded like obscenities at each other in a language which was only now surfacing into the general human knowledge stream. The creepy crawling things inhabiting the rocks onshore that desired entry into my nylon abode.

Alas, I arrived at the campground after the State Ranger collecting funds had gone home for the day. "He'll be back bright and early," I was assured by the camp mom, a guy by the name of Brad occupying the number one position in the park. His spot had grass and Christmas lights strung between the trees. Oh, and he had trees. Remember, I had ground glass.

"Really? What time?" I asked, feigning innocence.

"Early. Not sure when, but he'll get ya."

Oh, no he wouldn't! Apparently the Ranger doesn't get out of bed before 4:45 am, which is when I oh so quietly started the car and rolled on out of there. All I had to do was pack my bedroll and clothing and stuff and go. I'm amazed it was accomplished that quickly-- normally, it takes 20 minutes just to take down and pack the tent…

My $150 tent! I knew I forgot something. Talk about karma!