I drove out to the Park tonight after work to talk to the Owner about parking there for a few months. Originally I had planned to go to a park further out of town that was nicer, and more expensive, but after talking to a coworker today I decided to check The Park out.
By the time I got there it was pitch dark, and nothing to see. Working 12 hour shifts is exhausting enough to make it very easy to get lost.
When I arrived at The Park, the Owner was standing outside waving a flashlight so I wouldn't miss it. He herded me inside and sliced up a delicious homemade apple pie and warmed up my tea. He refused to talk business until I was warm and fed. It was the kindest thing anyone had done for me all day. I'd drove almost an hour past the park in the wind, rain, and dark and was on empty when I finally stopped the engine.
The pie was fantastic, and so was the company.
I harbored so many preconceived notions regarding motor home parks, and people who live in them. This man's house was spotless, warm, and taken care of. What I could see of The Park was beautiful and. Surrounded by woods, I could picture myself out there on a clear morning drinking coffee and enjoying the brisk breeze coming up from the water.
I'm going to take the spot.
The motor-home I have is old, and I can't wait to start fixing it up and documenting the process here.