Friday, May 12, 2017

Comfort Camping

Comfort camping doesn’t necessarily mean “Glamping,” or Glamour Camping. It means total, almost meditative relaxation, where there are no worries or concerns, just the moment at hand. Whether you are in a tent with a sleeping bag, or in a hermetically sealed Class A motorcoach, it doesn’t matter. This is what RVing, or our version of camping is all about. A spot where you want to come back, just to enjoy the experience, and that is why we are once again at Old Federal Campground on Lake Lanier, Georgia.



Right now, we are at the height of comfort camping. It is 4:45 in the afternoon, less than an hour since we checked in. The temperature is 75 degrees, and the breeze off of Lake Lanier is a solid twelve to fifteen knots. There are no clouds to be seen in the flawless blue sky, and Bonnie Raitt is playing a duet with BB King on our camper stereo behind us.

There are no other campers sitting outside, just us in our inappropriately named anti-gravity chairs, drinking out of our opaque, blue plastic glasses. Alcohol is prohibited here in this U.S. Army Corps of Engineers campground. Campers even have to initial their parking pass to show they understand the alcohol restriction which is printed right on the front of the pass, the one you hang on your rearview mirror. I really don’t mind, even though I had my other hand behind my back with my fingers crossed when I initialed the pass. There are no drunken sailors here, so to speak, which is a blessing if you have ever spent any time at campgrounds more lenient about alcohol. Large family get-togethers on Saturday night or a bunch of young locals getting rowdy around the campfire after spending a day on the water can spoil your evening in a hurry.



Two of the campers here do seem to be very mellow, sitting in the beautiful afternoon sunshine sipping their drinks, probably a form of grape juice, watching the afternoon sun turn the whole lake into a shimmering, silver sheet that can’t be captured by camera. That would be us. Even Taz, our male golden retriever is content, laying on the pad as relaxed as he has been this whole trip.



Here’s the icing on an already delicious cake: With my priceless Golden Age Passport, the cost for me at this Federally run campground is twelve dollars a night, half of the regular price. One of the real last benefits available to the general public before Congress and the current administration figures out what it’s worth and turns the whole Federal program into a pleasure reserved for only the wealthy and the elite. Just like health care. 


The Federal life-time America the Beautiful Senior Pass for those over 62 years of age, which allows free entrance to National Parks and Monuments, just went from $10 to $80.


Time for more grape juice.







George



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