Mind-altering experience

Conventional vehicle-dwelling wisdom holds that it’s a lot easier staying in the boondocks than in cities. Civilization is filled with laws and folks hostile to those living in unconventional ways. Sooner or later law enforcement or irate neighbors will come a-knockin’.

Yet my friend, Scott, has spent almost a decade living in a van up and down the West Coast — all in cities. Without trying to be stealthy. And never with any encounters. I was skeptical. I thought he was just incredibly lucky.

But since I was committed to going to Vancouver Island to take Lou’s ashes out to sea, and since there was triple-digit heat inland, I decided to take the coastal route. 

I had concluded years ago there was no such thing as free camping anywhere near the ocean. Except for the driveways of good friends, it was all private property, military facilities, or paid campgrounds that required reservations months in advance. Scott and some online resources provided some location tips, and I headed out.

My first shock was Huntington Beach. I had lived there back in the 90s. How could I get away with overnighting on one of its streets? Perfectly well, it turns out. It was just a matter of finding the right type of place. In this case it was a divided boulevard between upscale residential developments. There were tennis courts on one side and a berm on the other that blocked the view of the homes and the homeowners’ view of the various live-aboard rigs parked on the street. Police and private security vehicles passed now and then, never stopping. Well I’ll be.

Encouraged by my experience in Huntington Beach, I continued northward. And everything was fine. I used what I had learned from the tips to scope out my own locations. Up through California, Oregon and Washington to British Columbia and back. The “worst” thing was that a couple of the spots had noisy traffic late into the night and/or early in the morning. Yeah, well, civilization.

These are the places I streetdocked. It doesn’t include places I boondocked, a hotel stay, a free campground, and friends’ places.

As I said earlier, I had assumed urban areas (especially the wealthy ones) were hostile to vehicle dwellers, while rural areas were more commodious. So when I left the Coast to go to Flagstaff I expected no trouble when I parked between a church and playing field in Tehachapi. But two hours later there was The Knock. The officer informed me sleeping in vehicles was prohibited. As he checked my ID another officer arrived. Then another. Were they expecting trouble? Were they going to start some? Did they simply have nothing else to do?

After determining I had no outstanding warrants and that I was just a harmless old man passing through, they told me it was okay to sleep at the truck stop just outside the city limits. 

So as I dozed off to the sounds of idling semis and passing trains I thought about the irony of it all. And I thought about returning to the coast after I finish helping my Flagstaff friend.