We pulled into a threadbare forest service campground near a river. Our hope was of finding an out of the way place to camp for a few days where we could cool off in the water to beat the 90+ degree heat. One of the five sites was occupied with what looked like a deserted homeless encampment. Two tents were hanging open, clothes strewn about the ground, assorted items on the picnic table, etc…We grabbed a site to ponder what to do? Stay or go? Then we found the beach! We jumped in the cool clear river and decided to stay!
Later in the afternoon a stick figure emerged from a tent in the transient campsite. My first impression was a young Charles Manson! No kidding! “Doc”, our nickname for him, was looking to bum a cigarette. We gave him some water instead, after which, he then spent 20 minutes giving us the lowdown on everything. Doc had issues, somewhat of a hair trigger, but seemed harmless. A family pulled in to swim and a youngish woman emerged from the same tent. She made a beeline for the family looking for water. Like a bee to a flower the “Hermit” only came out of the tent when a new car came in to ask for water. “Tiny” at close to 300 pounds, the leader of the group, the “Cougher”, and the “Nice One”, who we think was the “Hermit’s” sister, returned from town later in the day in an old beater. Five of them in the two tents, living on the fringe, but harmless.
The next morning we went swimming. Doc and Tiny were jumping off the rocks into the pools. The Cougher is coughing, the Hermit is hiding in the tent, and the Nice One is floating on a tube chatting away. Around noon, and swim number 3, a couple of large Hispanic families arrive, about 25 total. They set up sun shades, barbecues, and tables for an afternoon at the beach. A fun group. We chatted, swam, and had a fun day.
The next morning was almost a repeat with the exception that the group that arrived with the sunshades and barbecues were primarily skinhead white guys, kids, and moms with American Flag bikinis, and all were dropping the f-bomb every other word. Same as the day before, we swam, chatted, shot the bull about how nice it was there. Then we start to notice the tattoos…white power, swastikas, a few tear drops (from our understanding showing that they had killed a person). Everything was fine and we had another nice day, if a bit unsettling.
Another repeat the next day, except it was broad spectrum family day.
We also had a wide array of campers come and go from young teenage couples to a 12 year old overnight birthday party to a Macaw named Quiggley and a nice family from Utah.
What remained constant was how nice a spot it was to cool down in the beautiful river at the most interesting beach (and campground) yet.
