This is a cool place. We're parked on the shore of the third largest lake in Minnesota. The front wheels are practically in the lake, so we can see the waves though the windshield.
We're next to the swimming area, which has an old-fashioned slide, a raft and a sand beach. The bicycles are finally off the back of the RV. The tires are pumped up to 40 PSI and the seats are adjusted. A 100 mile paved trail runs right by the lake. We can rent small boats and canoes and fish for walleyes, bass, perch and pickerel. There'a an Indian casino nearby. The lodge next door sells ice cream. The liquor store is a half mile away. The town of Walker, two miles south, has tennis courts.
I still have fat novels to read by Greg Bear and Norman Mailer. It's not against the rules here to wash your vehicles or change your oil. Most private campgrounds have rules against those activities.
The 500 mile run up here from the Badlands was fraught with errors. First off, I chose rural highways rather than Interstate. Well...DUH!...they don't build campgrounds where RVs don't normally travel...and...it's a summer holiday weekend so the two campgrounds we found were full...and...the longer you drive, the more full the available campgrounds become. So we ended up with no campsite at dusk on a rest area west of Fargo...It was quite nice, really, to split a bottle of Shiraz and some dark chocolate for dinner and then drift off to sleep to the drone of a refrigerated meat truck's generator...
We had a situation on the drive with a severe thunderstorm with one-inch hail, tornadoes and 70 MPH wind gusts..we reversed course for awhile to outrun it then headed back north and followed it down the interstate to Fargo...On this Father's Day, our son turned 39...we're too young to have a son that old...an inconvenient truth...but, happy birthday, Love Bandit...
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