Farewell to My Campground


(This post is coming to you live from the restaurant/bar/general store/post office with internet access.)

At the company appreciation luncheon, I found out the camp hosts at the campground where I started the season were getting laid off the day after Labor Day. I wondered what that would mean to me.

The week before Labor Day Weekend, my supervisor gave me a choice. She said I could stay at the campground where I’ve spent the majority of the summer, or I could move back to the campground where I got my start as a camp host. In either case, I’d still be working five days a week at the parking lot. If I moved, I’d have access to electricity in the garage/office, but I’d have to drive my van on a 25 mile round-trip commute to the parking lot. If I stayed put, the other camp host in my area and I would work out a patrol schedule, and I’d get to drive the company truck on the 25 miles round-trip to check on the farther campground. I opted to stay where I was so I’d only have to drive the van my routine 6 mile-a-day commute.

On the Friday of Labor Day Weekend, my supervisor said she had bad news. Because the campground farther from the parking lot has yurts that need to be guarded (against theft? against squatters? against vandalism?), I was going to have to move. The other camp host near the parking lot will do a patrol to my campground to collect payments and check-in folks with reservations.

I’m not upset about having to move, but I’m not happy about all the driving and the gas I’ll use. (That six-mile-a-day round-trip commute really spoiled me.) And I will miss my tiny, cute campground.

The bigger campground is lovely too, and it has a place in my heart as my first. It’s where I got my feet wet (literally, on more than one occasion) as a camp host. But I will miss the place I spent the majority of the days and night of the (cultural, if not literal) summer season.

About Blaize Sun

My name is Blaize Sun. Maybe that's the name my family gave me; maybe it's not. In any case, that's the name I'm using here and now. I've been a rubber tramp for nearly a decade.I like to see places I've never seen before, and I like to visit the places I love again and again. For most of my years on the road, my primary residence was my van. For almost half of the time I was a van dweller, I was going it alone. Now I have a little travel trailer parked in a small RV park in a small desert town. I also have a minivan to travel in. When it gets too hot for me in my desert, I get in my minivan and move up in elevation to find cooler temperatures or I house sit in town in a place with air conditioning I was a work camper in a remote National Forest recreation area on a mountain for four seasons. I was a camp host and parking lot attendant for two seasons and wrote a book about my experiences called Confessions of a Work Camper: Tales from the Woods. During the last two seasons as a work camper on that mountain, I was a clerk in a campground store. I'm also a house and pet sitter, and I pick up odd jobs when I can. I'm primarily a writer, but I also create beautiful little collages; hand make hemp jewelry and warm, colorful winter hats; and use my creative and artistic skills to decorate my life and brighten the lives of others. My goal (for my writing and my life) is to be real. I don't like fake, and I don't want to share fake. I want to share my authentic thoughts and feelings. I want to give others space and permission to share their authentic selves. Sometimes I think the best way to support others is to leave them alone and allow them to be. I am more than just a rubber tramp artist. I'm fat. I'm funny. I'm flawed. I try to be kind. I'm often grouchy. I am awed by the stars in the dark desert night. I hope my writing moves people. If my writing makes someone laugh or cry or feel angry or happy or troubled or comforted, I have done my job. If my writing makes someone think and question and try a little harder, I've done my job. If my writing opens a door for someone, changes a life, I have done my job well. I hope you enjoy my blog posts, my word and pictures, the work I've done to express myself in a way others will understand. I hope you appreciate the time and energy I put into each post. I hope you will click the like button each time you like what you have read. I hope you will share posts with the people in your life. I hope you'll leave a comment and share your authentic self with me and this blog's other readers. Thank you for reading.  A writer without readers is very sad indeed.

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