Free Camping: Road Trip Across America, North Carolina to Texas.
- Angela Carlton
- May 25, 2019
- 9 min read
May 10th
I am planning to pack up my car with essential necessities and backpack across the country--again. This will be my third drive across the country and every time takes a new angle. This year, I am planning to take my sweet time and camp or housesit for free as often as possible.
May 13th
Talladega National Forest in Alabama. The journey begins. I left Monday, May 13th and headed west, only a few days before Alabama's shocking ruling attempting to undermine Roe v. Wade. I have to say my impressions of the park are akin to the bad aftertaste of my feelings for this new legislature.
I arrived late after getting a late start leaving North Carolina. I had to drive through Atlanta, Georgia during rush hour and that was awful. But by the time I got to Talladega it was already 6pm and getting dusky. I imagined that I would park at a trailhead and hike until I found a good campsite, but I immediately noticed that the park was very deserted. I found a closed ranger station and a dirt parking lot for me to park my car and begin hiking a trail. I did this, with all my gear and noticed that I was hiking alongside in-use train tracks with a parked, heavily graffitied train on it. I hiked on, hoping to get some distance but it kept going and on the other side of the trail was a steep upwards sloping hill covered in thick, spindly trees. There were mosquitos and stagnant water everywhere and my imagination ran wild with me about homeless train hopping vagrants who might raid my tent at night, who might even be watching me then as I hiked. So I calculated the daylight I had left and decided to try to find a different spot. I turned back towards my car and drove deeper into the forest. There were a couple of lone pickup trucks, one had only one headlight and both were heavily beat up and driving very slowly. There were no campsites the further into the forest I drove, which was a winding road that snaked up to a ridge with a nice lookout spot but no where to camp. I drove down some dirt roads up there but they were far off roading and were not suitable places to camp and lead no where, except to thicker brush. I started to get a bit nervous. My intuition told me that this was all wrong. But my rational brain told me that this was just rural Alabama and I was afraid for no reason. I decided to drive down a dirt road I'd seen earlier that both the pickup trucks I passed had turned down, so I figured it had to lead somewhere, but after driving down it for awhile and seeing nothing, I pulled off an off shoot of this and drove behind some tall shrubs and brush and parked my car, opting to sleep in my car on a palate I'd made by folding down my back seats and spreading out my blankets and sleeping bag.
Many other trucks passed down this dirt road, not seeing me, even after it got dark, each time I felt anxious and imagined what would happen if they drove around where I was and blocked me in. I had my knife out next to me, my car keys and my cell phone. I slowly drifted off to sleep. Around midnight I heard a loud bang on the roof of my car, or so I imagined I did, I shot up, in one fluid motion I grabbed my knife and my car keys, clamored into my driver's seat, started the car and drove out of there like a bat out of hell. I drove back to the ranger's station and parked in that parking lot where it was well-lit and tried to sleep some more but it was intermittent so when I felt able I drove another three hours to the Mississippi state line. There they had a welcome center that had provided security so I parked and slept some more in my car. Around daybreak I carried on my travels driving along highways through Faulkner land.
May 14th
A much better day, I saw people walking languidly and barefoot on baking red earth towards gas stations or eateries that had people in plastic white chairs outside, sitting and socializing. It was more communal than my part of the south and like something out of a time capsule. I arrived at the Mississippi river relatively early, and was surprised by how much flooding I saw, even flooding that had encroached on an old playground. I decided to camp in Kisatachie National Forest in Louisiana, and only took backroads to get there. I ran over and killed a snake by accident, I think it was poisonous as well.
When my gps led me for an hour down a dirt road through a Louisiana forest, I considered turning around because I didn't want a repeat of the day before--but when I got to the campground it was absolutely beautiful! There was a raging river that you could swim in and pretty campsites. I virtually had the whole place to myself, though there were a couple of other couples and a family there. The couples seemed very standoffish and surprised that I was there alone. I didn't have any water with me but I did have my charcoal water filter so I was able to filter my own water directly from the river, which was the first time I had used this device. That night I slept very well.
May 18th
It's my 3rd day of housesitting for a woman in New Braunsfield, Texas which is about an hour south of Austin in the hill country. I went to a concert in Austin (to see TOPS who my friend Sophie introduced me to listening to), and I also went to the historic town of Gruene. It turned out I had been to Gruene before last February when I drove across the country with Ashley, but we arrived at night to stop and have a steak at a place Google had recommended and we didn't get to see the adorable little town that is situated along a traditional postal route between San Antonio and Austin. They have Texas' oldest music hall that has a separate door created just for Willie Nelson to be able to get to the stage without having to walk past the whole crowd.
People keep commending my bravery but I am scared almost every single night, especially now housesitting where the woman has all glass walls and no curtains, exterior lighting and no reliable cell service. However, I am convinced that by confronting my fears I am not only becoming stronger but also healing childhood trauma where I was fearful and overly imaginative about bad possibilities. Here I am trying to learn to channel this energy into writing a novel. I am practicing frugality to the extreme, which is good for me and also proves that you can travel for almost nothing. It takes $30 to fill my tank and with my camping stove, pasta and pesto you can really go a long way. I am also convinced that you can camp all the way across the country for free or for next to nothing (less that five dollars). Yes, it's true there are bad people in the world but I still believe that most people in the world are good, even in America where I admit that I am more afraid for my safety than in Europe. People seem less communal, more unpredictable, more isolated, wilder and uncouth as compared to the polished gleam of much of Europe.
May 19th
I drove to Canyon lake park and Jacob's Well, which were both very beautiful swimming holes. The best part of staying in this house is that it's a natural habitat for deer so they just wander into the yard, which is so charming and idyllic. In fact, when I arrived there was deer just standing by the front door of the house, I took this as a good omen. I love the live oak trees. I didn't expect Texas to be humid though, and it is very humid and yet sort of dry and barren at the same time. This area--the hill country--isn't barren, it's filled with rolling, grassy hills and the mighty Guadalupe River rushes through it.
I've been noticing more than ever all the hostility or strong reactions against the way I'm traveling. My Pawpaw told me on the phone today that what I'm doing (housesitting/traveling solo) is very "strange" and a girl I met today criticized me for not carrying a gun and pepper spray. This couple I spoke to in the National Forest in Louisiana seemed really reproachful that I was camping by myself. My friend that I spoke to on the phone seemed a bit dismayed that I was doing this solo. But I believe travel is not about spending 1000 dollars to stay in chain hotels in tourist towns just to lay on an overcrowded beach that looks like every other beach. Travel should be about seeing new things, having new experiences, having an adventure, reflection and meeting new people. I am so bored by a world that prefers the former. I hope that my actions might inspire some people and especially women to step outside their comfort zone. And I am fully aware that I could die or be raped or murdered but I could also have that happen to me if I stayed put in the same town my whole life. I'm aware of the risks and prefer to live life fully while remaining cautious. I always follow my instincts and intuition. But I am determined to maintain a faith in humanity and also to be a woman who isn't afraid to travel solo. I remember reading this book as part of my PhD research that was about some of the first solo female travelers back in the 1600s/170os, women who would ride across former battlefields in the Austro-Hungarian Empire and see fallen horses and men right after the battle had taken place and writing that they thought maybe no other woman in history had seen such scenes. I remember another woman had ridden all the way out to the middle east and was discovering natural healing remedies to write about them and take them back to the West, she was allowed to pass through the desert on horseback solo and the locals were so impressed with her that they labeled her an honorary queen of the desert. Women should be able to do everything that a man can do, yes, everything. And if I stay home because I'm too afraid then I'm doing nothing to help make the world a better place and challenge people's perspectives.
May 20th
I went back to Austin to visit my friend who works for Google, and she gave me a tour of the company, which was pretty out of this world, to be honest. I don't even know how to write about Google, as I think it should remain shrouded in enigma. Let's just say their offices are incredible. Though, of course everything should be taken with a grain of salt.
After I went to explore Google, I walked along the river and to the HOPE outdoor gallery, which is an abandoned apartment complex where anyone can then go and spray/create the walls. Austin seems like a cool town but I also feel like it's not quite what I would want for my permanent home--which I'm suspecting more every day will not be found in the North American continent. My heart is definitely in Europe. But I would like to go everywhere that I can.
May 24th
I'm getting restless in Texas now and I feel my itching feet ready to keep making tracks. As I was walking the dog this morning I saw huge buzzards in a tree, disheveled and cloaked, it gave me chills all over my body. I like the breeze in the trees but I'm ready to keep moving onwards, though I am worried about the next two weeks where I'll spend mostly alone (my friend will join me for a weekend) in a tent, in the wilderness. I'm worried about being eaten by a cougar (this is slightly hyperbole). Hopefully this doesn't happen, otherwise everyone will say "see, women shouldn't go off by themselves on adventures".
I would like to get braver as well. And I am aware that mostly irrational fears keep us trapped in our little boxes of the world. I already feel the entrapment of Texas surrounding me. This is not my space but I've been here too long, I'm drinking beer just because I'm bored. I've been slowly working my way through The Two Towers and doing online work, copywriting and editing mainly (avoiding writing my novel). But I feel myself growing more restless by the hour. There is only so much vegan curry one can cook! I've also made a resolve for my 30s that I will be more open to relationships again. I feel like I've been so focused on healing and personal growth that I've wanted to keep moving so I won't affect anyone or let anyone affect me but I want to be more receptive to people, in a platonic sense as well, as I move forward. I'd also really like to decide on a permanent base at some point in the next year so that I can really set up roots because "a rolling stone gathers no moss" so I've heard.
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