Left Reno late – around 9:30am or later.
Shoe Trees seem to be a thing. This is the second one I’ve seen.

Headed towards Lassen Volcanic National Park, but veered over to Burney Falls instead.

The Ranger took my eight bucks to see the Falls, but when I balked at the $30 campground fee he recommended a forest service road for me.

I made a little video of the Falls falling. I like the sound.

The Ranger took my money, but when I balked at the $30 campground fee he recommended a forest service road for me.

When I left the Falls, I fully intended to follow his directions, but I saw a sign for “Dusty Campground” and decided to explore that curious named place. I turned onto the dusty road and after driving a short way but not seeing a campground sign or any camping spots on the fairly un-scenic road, I was about to turn around when I came upon not only the campground entrance sign, but a lovely lake-front site as well.

I set up camp for the night and I’m paranoid as semi-usual – mostly because I’m so over-tired. I’m over-thinking my spot location under the massive trees and hoping no branch falls to pierce the roof (or me!) during my stay. Time to read. I hear gun shots echo around the lake. I hope they stay on the other side.

Steinbeck talks with people who live in “mobile homes” about the idea of having roots and permanence. (Page 101) This makes me think of the difference between me and people who buy houses in a town. Instead of using money for a down payment on a house, I bought a camper. I can go anywhere, but I have no local community. Friends of mine are tied to a dying town because they own property there, but they have wonderful community and local friends.

Pugsly, Argos, and I are pretty fatigued.

It’s really too bad that I don’t know bird calls because I have a couple chirping around the camper woods nearby.