Concrete Jungle

My trip began on a Wednesday.  With my compass pointed west, I dedicated myself to a solid 13 hours on the road with plans to sleep in the bed of my truck that night.  Some might say that snoozing in your car is uncomfortable and arduous.  However, after purchasing a cheap 4 inch foam mattress pad and a plastic zip up cover that you would buy for a toddler who pisses himself at night, my capped truck bed has been transformed into a cozy suite.  I often sleep better while car camping than I do at home in my own bed.  Anyway... after a much needed burger and a beer (ok, maybe more than one beer), I began the familiar search for a place to park my truck for the night without being awakened by a flashlight tapping the glass.  I found a spot that looked comfortable and legal, threw the truck into "Park" and began the process of preparing my bed.

It is always interesting when camping whether it is in a tent, a car or out in open space with nothing between you and nature.  The best and sometimes the worst part of camping is the vulnerability to the sounds of your surroundings.  The meditating sounds of chirping crickets or rain drops on your tent are always welcomed.  However, the sounds of breaking branches, foot steps, blood curdling screams from some animal that probably didn't make it, leave your curiosity and imagination at work, painting horrible pictures of potentiality in your mind.

Once my bed was ready, I climbed in, closed the hatch and lay there in darkness, left only to my thoughts and the prevailing sounds.  This was a different experience, however.  The sounds were different.  On many occasions, I shot up to look out the windows because it sounded as if something was walking outside my truck.  I could hear voices in the distance, uttering incomprehensible dialogue, random laughter and yelling.  Screeching tires.  Occasional honking horns.  Sirens sounded.  And as I am listening to all of this, I realized that it doesn't matter where or when you camp, each place will be distinct, conversing its own language of sounds.  As I looked up the final time, I felt the comfort of the giant blue and white sign and realized that the people of Wal Mart never sleep.

Never.