The Low Bar Has Been Set

 

This random pic is here because I have no pics of the campsite described below, which I'd rather forget.

(note: see addendum/update below)
     I've camped enough to know that campgrounds can differ wildly in amenities and cleanliness, and individual campsites within campgrounds can also offer totally different experiences. A shady spot on a river is a far cry from a treeless patch of gravel with a fire pit in a wide-open field. This bears out when you try to reserve a site—there are one or two bad ones almost always available when the rest of the campground has been booked solid for months. Avoid these sites!

    Desperate times do force our hands, however, and against our better judgement, we booked exactly such a site in Theodore Roosevelt National Park. Yes, I could see from the map it was really close to the bathrooms, but it was all that was left for our dates in North Dakota. So, way back in March, I crossed my fingers and clicked the ‘Reserve’ button. How bad could it really be?

    Really bad. The campground had little information available, and no one bothered to check us in. Many of the sites were small pull-offs from the road, with a few RV sites consisting of lines painted on the blacktop parking lot. The water quality was abysmal. The taste of water is easily taken for granted while in the comfort of home. But summer camping involves the constant refilling of water bottles, and this stuff was foul. Warm and salty, with a yellowish tint, we had to assume it was potable, but, man, it was a true leap of faith.

    And, of course, there were the pit toilets, which are exactly what the name implies—pits, full of shit. Not only were they uncomfortably close, issuing forth an ungodly stench and clouds of flies, but the path to them ran right through our site. Our camper was on one side, then came the nice paved path to the toilets (which, extra bonus, is where a loud metal garbage can, also stinky, was located), followed by our picnic table and cooking area.

    When you add up all of these sweet details, then throw the aforementioned wind storm of the angry gods on top, you end up with four people who have had enough. We packed up a day early and headed for Bozeman, to stay with Anne’s Aunt Carol.

    Best. Decision. Ever.

    The silver lining is we now have the low end of the spectrum for campsites established. No matter where we end up, we have hard-won proof that it could be worse.

7/31/22 Anne provided me with this photo evidence. Our camper on the left, walkway to pit toilets, garbage can, then our kitchen. Unseen is the cloud of flies and stink from those toilets. I can smell it just looking at this pic. Excuse me while I go vomit.