I went motorcycle camping. I was going more remote but still only a single day. The weather report predicted thunderstorms in the evening. I’d packed a tiny tarp but brought no rope to hang it.
I’d stop at some town and buy rope. Nope. There ain’t jack shit on the way and I’d forgotten how profoundly empty the area was.
I haven’t been this way for a couple years. Back then I’d been truck camping and super comfortable in the hinterland. I’d simply forgot the degree of nothing I’d been messing with. I should’ve remembered.
On this trip grid power for my CPAP was key. I was counting on the premium electric site I’d reserved at the only campground.
I’d forgotten everything was rough around the edges. Everything looked frayed and I’ve never seen staff there ever.
My campsite was a shabby patch of grass carved into a weedy forest. There won’t be postcards photographed here. I didn’t care, it had a power outlet, fire ring, and picnic table. That’s plenty.
I started unstrapping my tent but I had a bad feeling about the power. I grabbed my extension cord to test it. Damn! I have a new 25′ extension cord which lights up when powered. I’d brought one that’s much more worn and it has no light. Or maybe the light was broke? Or maybe there was no power?
Dun dun DUUUUUUHHHH!
I plugged in a charging adapter for my cell phone. The phone registered nothing. Shit!
I wandered to a nearby campsite and tested with the phone. It worked fine.
I tested a few more empty sites. They were fine.
God has an awesome sense of humor. I’d reserved and paid for the only electric site that had no power. Lucky me.
(I know what you’re thinking. You’re diving for the keyboard to tell me about the circuit breaker being off or to wiggle the plug in the socket or whatever. I know all that. Sometimes an outlet is dead and that’s all there is to it.)
Planning for just such a situation Mrs. Curmudgeon (who was back at home) has offered to be “the man in the chair”. All the cool heist and superhero movies have a character who’s essential to the plot but works a phone back at the office. That’s the man in the chair. Think of Batman; “Alfred, can you check if the princess of Monaco is a male who wears clown makeup?” Then you see Batman nodding. “Ah ha! I knew it was JOKER!”
I made the pre-planned call.
“Honey, I’m at campsite X. The power is no good. Please login to the address I wrote out and use the password I gave you. Change my reservation from X to one of the other available electric sites.”
“Hello? I can’t hear you. HELLO!”
The line went dead. Shit.
I had one bar of service. I called again. She answered immediately.
“Curmudgeon? It’s your number but no voice. Have you been eaten by bears? Did you crash into a bridge abutment? I’m worried that you…”
Click, it went dead.
Maybe asymmetric text would work when voice wouldn’t? I texted.
Msg 1: “I’m at site X. Power is shit.”
Msg 2: “Please see if you can reserve some other site.”
Msg 3: “Site Y is pretty cool and it…” MSG 1 NOT DELIVERED.
What the… MSG 2 NOT DELIVERED. MSG 3 NOT DELIVERED.
Well crap.
There were a few potential sites with power. A few were occupied but others might be empty all night. On the other hand empty ones might have a Winnebago rolling in at midnight. An online chart could tell me which sites are clear but I couldn’t see it. Mrs. Curmudgeon could see the chart but wouldn’t get the message to do so. Did I mention the place was remote and unstaffed?
It was too far to drive home and I’m too dependent on the CPAP to camp without power. There was a family tent camping not far away. Maybe they had Starlink? I walked down and tried to politely inquire. “Excuse me, would y’all have internet?”
Whoops! I’d just stepped into someone’s bad day. There was a dad having the typical dad moment when everyone shits on him even though he didn’t do anything wrong. His kids, a brother and a sister, were standing around looking stupid and useless. Not bad kids necessarily, just demonstrably not rising to whatever challenge was at hand. There was a humungous tent that probably looked cool online but was surely a difficult edifice to erect; especially for one man with the “assistance” of two clueless teenagers. I was sure sis and bro were no help whatsoever with anything that was/is/or ever will happen. There was a utility trailer, unhitched from its SUV. It was half filled with assorted shit. Probably bro and sis had bikes and kayaks and fifty pounds of board games and stuffed animals… all of which dad had been lugged around as part of the enormous thankless task that is a dad’s lot.
“There’s no cell service here.” The dad explained.
“Yah, no cell service.” I agreed, deciding to not mention Starlink. “I’m at site X, the power doesn’t work. Does your power work?”
“Yeah power’s fine.” The dad offered. He seemed to appreciate having a break and someone to talk to. “Unfortunately, we’re leaving. My wife is sick.”
“Oh no, that sucks.” I legitimately felt sad about that, even as I coveted the power outlet in his camp.
“This is a good spot, it’s near the restrooms.” The wife emerged from the tent. She looked a bit frazzled. I could imagine she was under the weather. Also, is it me or are all women in all campsites fixated on restroom proximity?
“Why don’t you stay here? We’re leaving and we already paid for the site.” Dad offered.
“You’re sure?” I didn’t want to be rude. I pondered offering a $20 bill just as a nice gesture but I’m feeling tight of funds. I’d already decided to swoop in and seize the power the instant he’d said they were leaving.
“Yeah, why not?”
I thought of offering to help pack. The guy could surely use a hand. But the family dynamic wasn’t clear to me. Better to stay out. “That’s very thoughtful. I hope you feel better soon ma’am.” I nodded at his wife, who really did look rough. “Just toot your horn when you drive by me. I’m hanging out at site X.”
I abandoned overworked dad to a sick wife and two useless kids and an enormous tent to pack. I heard some faffing about as something heavy was crashed onto the trailer. There was more drama as the trailer was hitched. I felt sorry for everyone there… but also nervous to get my tent ready before the predicted thunderstorms. I was jittery. Every time I started to relax my phone would ping. MSG 1 NOT DELIVERED. MSG 2 NOT DELIVERED. MSG 3 NOT DELIVERED.
I have a SpotX and I left it home. What an idiot!
Eventually dad and family rolled away. I hope mom gets well soon. I hope someone gives dad a cold beer, the poor bastard.
I scampered over settled in. Thinking of the weather predictions I staked everything down extra well. I still had no rope for my tiny tarp. I left it unused. I tried to delete the messages that hadn’t been sent. It wouldn’t do to send Mrs. Curmudgeon scrambled delayed orders to make moot point reservations. The phone ignored me and kept trying to deliver the deleted messages. MSG 1 NOT DELIVERED. MSG 2 NOT DELIVERED. MSG 3 NOT DELIVERED.
I typed a fourth message. “Situation handled. All is well.” MSG 4 NOT DELIVERED.
Despite dead power and bad coms, I had a great time. It had been sweaty all day but at night it cooled to just perfect. The predicted thunderstorms didn’t happen. In fact the clouds dissipated. I went to the firewood supply kiosk and picked up a bundle. It said “follow this QR code to pay for the firewood”, which is completely impossible where there’s no cell service. I guess I stole the bundle of wood? What else could I do? I’ll pay for it days later when I’m properly online. I started a fire and relaxed.
My phone pinged: MSG 1 NOT DELIVERED. MSG 2 NOT DELIVERED. MSG 3 NOT DELIVERED. MSG 4 NOT DELIVERED. But now there was a voice mail from Mrs. Curmudgeon. I couldn’t hear the audio but read the speech to text: “I never heard when you called. I suspect you have no cell service and didn’t bring your SpotX. I’m going to assume you’ve got everything handled unless I hear otherwise. Have a great campout.”
Brilliant! I worry about alarming Mrs. Curmudgeon with my solo rambling. However, over the years she’s gotten used to the idea I’m probably fine. I’ll of course apologize a month over leaving the SpotX behind. I’m such a dumbass.
I considered trying to call back. Now my phone said “SOS Only”. I turned the fucking thing off.
The sky was astronomy perfect dark. I had a small window in the forest canopy and saw hints of the Perseid meteor shower. The fire was calm and relaxing as it always is. There were no raccoons and I didn’t fall off a truck. Overall, it was a great night.