I Can Breathe in a Small Town

We’re only a few miles from John Mellencamp’s hometown in southern Indiana, and man does this area feel small-townish.

This is a view from Skyline Drive through the Jackson-Washington State Forest, into Starve Hollow. Lots of family farms down there. Here in the state forest campground, lots of dudes pulling in to get high over lunch break, lots of kids yelling from the windows of church camp buses.

Tracy and I made the big trip out to get sundaes at the Dairy Queen, and we ate them outside so we could watch a guy in the bucket of a utility truck work on a set of elevated wires at an intersection, right in front of a busy gas station. His bucket stayed extended as the truck inched forward through traffic, and he kept on working. It really looked like this guy was going to die in this small town. The truck just drove on away though, bucket up high with the guy holding on.

I’m making too big a deal of this small-town theme because I feel like I was funny with the title here. Truthfully, we’ve spent nearly the whole time in this state park campground gloriously by ourselves. There are no hookups here, so the only people camping during the weekdays are the occasional car camper way off in the woods.

This state forest is special because the area had been logged to death for farming, and now these planted grand trees are battling that past terrible erosion. Almost as soon as we got out of the truck here we heard a giant tree fall far off in the forest. It started with a long, loud crack, then a messy-sounding fall through other trees, until a WHOMP. I hope to always remember that.

We’re camped right below an embankment that dams the creek for a pretty little lake.

I know we stand out like odd ducks, but we’re here for longer than the standard weekend so needed a spot in the open for solar and starlink.

We’ve hiked a little and biked a little, but mainly it’s been fantastic just to be living our normal lives outside now that the temperatures are tolerable.

Grilling veggies we got at the farmers market, napping in the tent, spending long evenings playing board games with music on. All a big sigh of late-summer enjoyment.

I mentioned last post about meeting up with friends from the road, Doug and Melanie, and thanks to Melanie and me tracking each other in Google Maps (privacy be damned) and then drawing out an intricate route map to see where we might intersect, we made it happen!

We hadn’t seen each other in a year, since they had to leave Alaska a little early due to terrible fall allergies. It’s always super fun to talk with them in-person and revel in the fact that we speak the same nomad language. They are so damned enthusiastic about the mental and physical health benefits to living outside that it’s like attending a pep rally to be around them. Whereas other friends are winding down their traveling as they age, these guys are prepping to backpack Europe next summer. Wherever they go, I hope Melanie keeps sharing her location with me; I’ll just have to widen the view screen of my map to see her.

11 thoughts to “I Can Breathe in a Small Town”

  1. Your post has answered the age old question, if a tree falls in the forest… 😉
    Looks like a lovely place to relax. And I think it’s Banjo approved which is the most important thing.

    1. You actually put more stock in Banjo’s happiness than we do. Not that we want her to be unhappy! But her pout is very dramatic and we can’t judge a thing by it.

      1. On my solo road trip in 2011, the moment I crossed the Indiana state line, I put on a Mellencamp CD. Played his music pretty much the entire drive across the state.

    1. The sundaes were from a chain ice cream place across the US, so nothing special. That bird game is very interesting to play, though. It’s called Wingspan. You don’t need to have knowledge of birds to play it, but if you like various birds it will be even more interesting to you.

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