First Practice Trip – AL to CA and back

Big life decisions often accompany cataclysmic events. I decided to sell my house and everything in it when my father died, and I hit the road with my trusty dog Ella to visit all the National Parks I could. Before embarking on the actual trip, I knew I needed practice to be sure that I had all the appropriate gear and that my routines and my funds would be sustainable. I took two extended trips to accomplish this. The first was a trip to the west coast and back, and the second was a series of camping trips in the Southeast.

In August 2021, I took off for Texas and California to deliver furniture and keepsakes from my father’s estate to my two sisters. I bought a hitch for my Subaru and rented a Uhaul trailer. I loaded up the trailer with boxes, furniture, and sundries, and loaded my car with camping equipment. With Ella in the backseat, we headed out with all good intentions. On the road, I was suddenly reminded I’m not a mover. The trailer wasn’t loaded particularly well, so along the way it was bumping and jumping on the hitch and making a loud racket. I thought I might lose it, but it hung in there. I had a bad experience in college where a trailer jumped off the ball in the middle of Atlanta traffic, and I was starting to have flashbacks. The ride was shaping up to be a little on the stressful side already.

I left much later than intended. Originally, I had planned to camp in Slidell, LA, on the way, but since the sun was already going down by the time I was half-way there, I decided to drive the whole way through to my sister’s in TX. No big deal. It’s a 10–12-hour drive, but I had no time restrictions and no one else to appease. As long as Ella would hold up, I knew I could hold up. No worries.

Around midnight, I was passing through Pearl, MS, and noticed a regional airport sign. It seemed to make sense that I heard a helicopter above me. It didn’t quite register how odd a helicopter would be at midnight, or how odd it was that the sound was getting louder and louder. Lordy, in fact it was so loud I thought it must be right overhead. It took a few more moments for me to realize it wasn’t a helicopter at all – it was a flat tire. My Subie had picked up a screw and the tire shredded to pieces, right there on the Interstate. Did I mention it was the middle of the night?

I have roadside assistance, so I hit them up, and they were very responsive. The thing about roadside assistance, though, is you likely just woke up the repairman from his comfy slumber, or he may have a list of other unfortunate customers before you. Or both. You never really know. Either way, you can expect to wait. For hours. So, Ella and I waited patiently on the side of the road in the dark listening to the whoosh of traffic as it passed us, each car buffeting us as it went. In about an hour and a half or so, the repairman showed up.

To get to my spare donut tire in the back, I had to unload all my gear, right there on the side of the highway, in the dark. Ella was on a leash and wanted to explore, wondering why she couldn’t track down every intriguing scent. It was inconvenient, to say the least. Then, once the tire was changed, I had the flat, full-size tire to carry with me to a tire store. It wouldn’t fit back in the car because the compartment was too small for it, but fortunately I had the Uhaul trailer, so we stashed it in there.

Now, where to stay? I couldn’t go more than 50 miles or 50 mph on the baby spare, so I had to overnight somewhere there in MS. I checked my Free Campsites app, mostly used by RV’ers looking for a place to overnight, and found a Cracker Barrel nearby. My first night on my wild, adventurous, see-all-the-wonders-of-America-tour was spent under the streetlight in a Cracker Barrel parking lot. It was as romantic as it sounds. My car was so full I couldn’t lean the seat back, so I battled the steering wheel with my knees all night long. It was so hot – MS in the summer – that I couldn’t roll down the windows for the cloying heat, humidity, and mosquitos. I would crank the engine and run the air conditioner every 30 minutes to an hour, whenever I heard Ella start to pant in the backseat. I was feeling super adventurous.

At daybreak we headed to the nearest tire store, and Ella and I roamed the area while the tire was replaced. It was swelteringly hot, and the sun was brutal. I thought, this is the kind of practice we need! Not really what I had in mind, but more than likely what we will encounter on the real trip, so get used to it! All-in-all, it took a little over 3-4 hours for the car to be repaired, and we set out again for Killeen, TX. We made it just in time as my sissie got off work, so much rejoicing ensued. Ella and I stayed with her for a few days, and the visit was refreshing and fun.

After a few days, we get back on the road and continued our drive of the continent-sized Texas. I tried to drive as far as I could before looking for a free campsite. My mantra is ALWAYS FILL UP THE GAS TANK WHEN IT’S HALF FULL, and ALWAYS PITCH YOUR TENT WHEN IT’S LIGHT. Such wise advice to myself I repeated over and over, congratulating myself on my good common sense. Unfortunately, apparently I’m not a great listener. That night, I kept challenging myself to drive 20 more miles before looking for a campsite. This is why:

While I was driving, I was super enjoying the scenery. It was gorgeous. I was well into NM and the mountains in the distance were in perfect juxtaposition to the broad, flat deserts full of cactus and scrubs. Not only that, but the sky was magnificent. The sun was setting, and the colors were vivid and rapidly changing from pink to orange to red. There were numerous storms on the horizon, so I watched them evolve from light blue showers to deep purple downpours, all in the distance, so just a feast for the eyes. The sun was setting right in front of me as I traveled west, and it was casting a golden glow on the cumulous and cirrus clouds that crowned the mountains. The sky was bright pink, the sun neon orange, the clouds various shades of blue with shiny, golden edges. It was an amazing sight, and I just didn’t want it to end.

I did finally stop for the night, but it was well after dark. It was windy, too, because of all the storms around, so putting up my ground tent was a bit of a challenge. The wind made the fly tricky, so I weighed the odds of rain. There were storms all around, but above me was wide open, clear sky. I decided to chance it. Ella crawled in the tent with me, and right above me, through the dome screen was the bright, white moon peeking from behind a large tree with leggy branches. The breeze was fresh and cool, very relaxing. It was a magical night.

The next morning, we headed out early with the plan to stop and camp in CA if needed. The drive was easy, so we kept on trucking. I was approaching the craggy, brutal mountains at the border of AZ and CA that create a remarkable transition into the state. I was on half-full, so I knew I should stop for gas soon, but I kept thinking, CA is super populated, so I’m sure it won’t be difficult to find a gas station as soon as I cross the mountains. It was 120 F, and Ella’s feet burned every time we stopped, so I wanted to power through.

Spoiler alert: CA is super populated on the coast – not inland. And inland lasts for a really long time before you get to the coast. There were no gas stations. I sweated bullets wondering if I was going to have to call roadside assistance again, especially since cell service was spotty at best. It wasn’t the first time I stretched the limits of my gas tank on this trip. In Dallas, during 5:00 traffic, I took a look at my gas gauge for the first time in apparently a very long time because it was on empty. I scrolled my info button to see how many gallons I had before empty. It said 0. To say I started a mild panic might be an understatement. I moved my car and trailer to the far-right lane and slowed to about 50, thinking roadside assistance is my number one on speed-dial right now. And you might think that a city as large as Dallas would have lots of gas stations just right off the freeway. Me too. But that’s not the case. I took a random exit and had to drive several miles through back roads before coming across the only gas station in Dallas apparently. I know it was the only gas station because everyone and their brother was there to get gas. There were only four pumps, and each one had a line. By the time I navigated my Uhaul-towing-butt up to the pump, my car was gasping for life. You might think that experience would drive home the mantra I kept repeating to myself about never letting the car fall below half-full. I love your optimism.

Bottom line, I never did run out of gas. But I sure made myself sweat more than a few times.

The desert terrain from east TX, to NM, to AZ, to CA is gorgeous. Miles and miles of nothing but cactus and sand, but somehow a great variety in all of it. The rock formations, mountains, and churned up dirt created an ever-changing landscape, and the plant life was just as variable. Being from the Southeast US, I thought the cactus, trees, and shrubs looked foreign and exotic or maybe like Dr. Seuss creations. I couldn’t take my eyes off the scenery.

Reaching the coast of southern CA was just as exotic. The hills rolled with trees and different rock formations that were a feast for the eyes. The traffic told the tale: this place is where people want to be. So many people! The weather is perfect, 70s with a cool, constant breeze, and the topography is gorgeous. Ella and I made it to my sister’s with the Uhaul intact, and I stayed there for a few days, enjoying walking on the beach, visiting parks, and taking a few short hikes. It was a glorious visit.

While in SD, I bought a rooftop tent (RTT). There is a lot of dissension in the camping community between favorite tent types. You’d think folks wouldn’t care about each other’s camping styles because live and let live, but everyone’s got opinions. Some folks swear by the RTTs, and others say they are overrated, not true camping, not worth the price. I love mine. But it did take me a long time to get good at setting it up and taking it down on the first try. Way longer than I thought it should. But now that I have a good bit of practice under my belt, I love it.

The first time I used it was on the way back from CA. I had just spent the night at my niece’s house in AZ, and she warned me it was monsoon season. There were lots of monsoons around, so be careful driving. I had seen them on the way out and agreed they looked formidable, but I’m from the Deep South where we have no shortage of extreme storms. I wasn’t worried. I did drive through some horrific storms, dropping speed to about 30 or less on the Interstate and watching the blurry taillights in front of me for clues as to the road conditions ahead. After making it through the worst, I started looking for a campsite, and found one in west TX right on a small lake. It was peaceful and private, although I could hear people across the lake enjoying their evening. The campsite had a table and a fire ring, but no other amenities. The night was just like the one I experienced in NM – breezy, storms in the distance, clear overhead. I set up Ella’s tent on the ground and crawled up to my new RTT. Somewhere around midnight, Ella started to whine. She was fretful, and that’s not normal for her. I went out to check on her and heard thunder in the distance. As I looked up, the sky was overcast, and it looked like rain, maybe even a storm, was imminent. I zipped up my tent, and Ella and I jumped inside the Subaru to weather the lightning and thunder, never her favorite. Well. It was a doozy. The wind whipped the car around, and the rains didn’t let up. For hours we watched the monsoon dump water on the windshield as the wind swept the water away in blurry waves. Occasionally we dozed in the car.

At daybreak I was anxious to see how my tent fared in the weather. To my delight it was dry and cozy. However, what I had not thought about was the terrain. We drove in on dry dirt. That dirt had become thick, mucky clay by the morning. All over Ella, all over my shoes and our gear, all over my tires. Once the car was loaded, I did my valiant best to extract it from the muddy campsite. Thank goodness for Subaru’s all-wheel drive. Again, I thought about the call that I might have to make to roadside assistance and the spotty cell service that may or may not make that call possible. I was successful after a few fishtails in the mud. We were back on the road, ready to stop at my sister’s again in TX on the way back. We had another great, refreshing stay with her and got back on the road for the final leg of the journey.

Ella and I were on the Interstate from TX to AL for all of about five minutes when I had another flat tire. Another call to USAA roadside assistance, another repairman dispatched to my vehicle, another struggle to empty and reload the car to get to the donut, but this time the flat, full-sized tire had to go in the trunk with all the rest of my gear. We made it to a tire store, had the flat fixed, and were back on the road by Noon. I knew without a shadow of a doubt, no matter what other gear I got for my car, I had to get a full-sized spare and a tire carrier with all the tools and equipment to make my own repairs in case this happened to me when I was out of cell phone range. Also, I knew I needed a form of satellite communication in case my cell phone didn’t work.

It was a great practice trip, more for the distance and experience in desolate areas than for the actual camping. That was ok. There would be plenty of time for that. Once home, I started to research all the recovery gear I might need for my car. I watched YouTubers, read blogs, joined forums, and I’m now reasonably sure I could take care of my car, my dog, and myself if I got stuck somewhere.

A few things I learned along the way, besides the tire, gas, and get-to-the-campsite-before-dark lessons, were about practical routines. I needed to find a way to keep plenty of water since many free campsites don’t have water; ice in a cooler is for the birds because you have to change it constantly, especially in the southern heat; and everything in the car must be well-organized and at-hand at all times. Systems are the key. Making sure I always put things back where I know I will find them, especially chargers, flashlights, and Ella’s leash and water bowl, must take precedence over the ease of just setting something down or stashing it in the nearest hidey-hole. To that end, I have created several hidey-holes in my car for specific things: maps, glasses, a hat, Chapstick, chargers, etc. All things that are always where they need to be when I need to find them in a hurry.

One of the best things I learned is what a great traveling companion Ella is! I had not traveled much with her before, so I didn’t know her car habits. She is a great passenger. She is eager to explore everywhere we go, and she is great company. She mostly sleeps inside the car, but she has a tent to use as a kennel when she wants. She is my constant source of love and laughs. And her snuggles are super great.