OMD Travelogue | Day 229

Having pulled an all-nighter working, I feel the need for an extra caffeine boost. Remember a good option an hour away from the drive south and make a beeline for the Bay Leaf Market.

Sitting at the window counter, I sip steamy coffee, respond to messages and emails. Watching Baylor through the window, I marvel at the joy he brings people. Nearly every person who passes by smiles at him, stops to say hello or give him a scratch. He mans his area by the entrance like a pro. Nonchalantly, yet graciously accepting the love and attention.

Map checked one last time, we load up. Head into the nearby National Forest to find a home for the night.

Pavement turning to packed dirt, I decrease speed, shift down. Weave back and forth avoiding potholes. Seeing a road to the right, I pull off. Turn around quickly at the site of piles of abandoned junk and empty beer cans. Unfortunately more often than not the easily accessed sites are completely covered with trash and debris.

Light fading, I keep an eye out for another offshoot. See one to the left and pull off. Uneven road turning muddy, I come to a stop. Pop Rufio into neutral and push us in reverse. Creep forward, heave backwards until we’ve made a 180. There’s a chance we could make it down the soupy, bumpy road without incident, but if there’s one thing I learned from my off-roading friends, it’s that you really only want to take that chance if you have someone around to help tow you out. Looking over at Baylor snoozing in the sidecar, it’s obvious we better play it safe.

Following another offshoot, I pull to a small turnaround, a point where a couple roads meet. It’s not far off the road, has a bit of trash here and there, but it’s good enough for a quick night’s sleep.

Dark fully in place, Baylor anxiously awaits the set up of the tent. Presses firmly against my leg willing me to go faster. Dives in at the first available moment and then looks back expectantly for me to follow.

Having scored a three dollar Dolly Parton biography at the market, I settle into the tent, turn on the headlamp. Fight heavy, sleepy eyes with a fervid desire to know all about a true American legend.

On the precipice of sleep, I jump at the sound of a car approaching. Freeze as headlights shine directly on the tent. Relax ever so slightly as they reverse and turn away.

Shutting the headlamp off, I snuggle into the sleeping bag. Wrap an arm around Baylor. Go into full alert at the sound of two cars approaching. Lights blazing into the tent, I lie absolutely still. Somehow believing a lack of movement will encourage them to move on.

But it doesn’t work.

At the sound of two car doors slamming shut, I reach for my knife. Stick it in my pocket just in case. Pet Baylor’s head and wonder what to do.

Hearing the call of a Ranger, I feel relief that I don’t have to face a backwoods maniac, fear that I’m in trouble for some unknown infraction. Crawling out of the tent, I squint into the headlights, hold Baylor back as he barks, assure the rangers he’s very friendly. Given the go ahead I release Bay. Smile as he runs over for attention, sits pretty hoping for a treat. Generally wins them over.

Do you know anything about hunting? Bobby asks while scratching Baylor’s ear.

Um, I understand how it works in the general sense, but I’ve never done it myself.

Well, I ask because it’s gun season and during gun season the rules are a bit different.

Oh, I didn’t even think of that. I just thought you could camp anywhere in National Forest as long as there wasn’t a sign stating explicitly you couldn’t camp there.

Normally that’s true, but during gun season you can only stay in designated hunting camps.

Heart sinking at the thought of having to pack up and relocate for the night, I look around. Well, is there a camp nearby?

How about this? Just move on first thing in the morning and you’ll be fine for tonight.

I smile. Thank you so much. I’ll get up before it’s even light out to make sure I’m out of the way of hunters. Shaking their hands, I thank them again.

Heading into the dark, Bobby turns back, stands silhouetted against the truck headlights.

Be safe out here.

229 days down. Many to come.