Hello, Dear Reader! It’s been a minute. How the hell are you?

Me? I’m as good as can be expected in the middle of a pandemic with a chronic disease and a suppressed immune system, but I didn’t catch the ‘Rona, and I am fully vaccinated as of April 14, 2021. Yay, science!

A Recap

As Inigo Montoya said in “The Princess Bride,” “Let me explain. No, it is too much. Let me sum up.”

When the COVID hit the fan I returned to Washington in May 2020. By November, after six months of no travel, I knew I had to do something other than eat and watch Netflix.

When last I said howdy I had recently made the switcheroo from Nellie to my interim wheel estate – a new East to West travel trailer I dubbed “Hunker Downs,” my home until the world is open again.

I have done a little bit of volunteering on the road, and eventually I was interested in exploring volunteer camp hosting, but coronavirus shuffled my timeline. I spent the month of November 2020 applying for camp hosting gigs.

I just completed three months as a Volunteer Camp Host at Belfair State Park in Washington, from February through April 2021.

A Camp Hosting Primer

There is no centralized system for applying for hosting positions, and there are a LOT of opportunities. Parks are privately owned, or owned/managed/operated by a governmental entity, be that municipal, county, state, or federal (which can include National Parks, Bureau of Land Management, and the Army Corps of Engineers).

Not all openings are campgrounds. There are day use parks, and historic and informational sites too. Those placements are often known as park host or interpretive host.

When I began scouting online for vacancies, I joined Workamper News, but it’s not necessary. Most states and organizations have free web pages devoted to camp host vacancies, and there are lots of free classifieds too, like Happy Vagabonds, and Facebook groups.

A one-year subscription to Workamper News was $69 and came with a lot of information I never used, such as a resume builder and a monthly magazine. All in all, it’s a good jumping off point if you have no experience as a camp host and aren’t sure how to get started.

The number of minimum hours expected varies, and in some circumstances, couples may divvy them up as the choose. Some positions pay an hourly wage or a monthly stipend, especially privately owned campgrounds, but many do not; some just provide a space and hookups for your RV. The latter interested me; I wasn’t trying to earn a living.

The Little Campground With The Big Heart – Belfair State Park

Belfair State Park is a 94-acre, year-round camping park on 3,720 feet of saltwater shoreline at the southern end of Hood Canal in western Washington. I first camped at Belfair State Park back in the old days, when I had my vintage trailer, FiFi. After I hit the road full-time, anytime I was back on Hood Canal I would make a point to visit to Belfair. It was the first place I thought of when my background check cleared with the state of Washington.

Even though it was cold, dark, wet and windy on the day of my arrival on February 1, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. My campsite in the Main Loop was creekside, with plenty of room, and a lot of privacy because the Tree Loop on the opposite side of the creek was closed for winter.

Due to Covid and the winter season, only two Camp Host positions were filled. We were on duty five days on and two days off. On our days off, which had to be on non-peak weekdays, the other host covered the entire campground. Primary duties included campsite policing (including cleaning fire pits), selling firewood, and closing the gate at dusk. Park aides cleaned the restrooms, which was just fine with me. Anyone who cleans restrooms open to “The Public” should be paid to do it, in my opinion.

Each host was assigned a golf cart or Gator for getting around the park, which were invaluable.

I zipped around the loops and Day Use, picking up garbage, replenishing dog poop bags in the dispensers, dousing smoldering fires, and depositing the charred remains of the fire pits offsite to “the bone yard.”

After almost a year of lethargy and a sedentary lifestyle, the sudden physicality took a toll. My bilateral carpal tunnel syndrome, which had been largely dormant since I quit office work, came back with a vengeance. I had to cut back on raking and sweeping and start sleeping in wrist braces again. (Look who popped up on a review of the park on Google!)

The positive side of all that labor was I dropped a pants size in three months!

I was worried how a Crohnnie like me would get by, but it all went reasonably well. I disclosed right away that I might need to abruptly leave a meeting or a conversation. I had the bathroom facilities in my rig, of course, and also the bathrooms around the campground. When you are a volunteer, the environment is much more forgiving about physical limitations.

To Everything There Is A Season

February, March, and April in the Pacific Northwest can be unpredictable, and Belfair delivered all types of weather, from rain

to snow

to wind

to beautiful Spring days that remind you to be happy to be alive.

Another thing that makes me happy to be alive – friends! Before, during, and after vaccinations, I was able to see many people from a safe distance outside, which is why I wanted to become a camp host during the pandemic in the first place. (The photos are not in order, so if we aren’t wearing masks we are fully vaccinated!)

Speaking Of Vaccinations

The park’s location in a smaller rural county in Washington helped expedite my COVID shots. As a temporary resident of Mason County, I was eligible to go to the local high school gymnasium, where I received two doses of the Pfizer vaccine over a three-week period. I teared up when I entered the gym for the first time, not only for all that has been lost in the past year, but for the scads of volunteers with smiles on their faces erupting in spontaneous applause as people exited.

Of Course The People Make It Special

I knew I would meet campers and travelers, but it never occurred to me how many neighbors and locals would be in the park. Scott could often be found sitting in his car in Day Use. He was an extra set of eyes and ears for staff. Pat walked the entire park at least a few days a week, picking up garbage as he went – what a help to our crew! Greg and Liz lived just down the road, and I enjoyed our lively conversations; a few days before my departure they invited me over and we sat on the deck drinking wine and talking about travel and life in general. Sara walked her hound Andy, and he was so excited he merrily (and loudly) barked, nonstop. He could be heard throughout the park, evoking scenes from those 1970s prison break movies set in the south.

Let’s Hear It For Park Staff!

If you see a Ranger, Park Aide, maintenance personnel, or a Camp Host, thank them for their service. The work is never-ending. Parks have a tendency to attract members of the public living on the fringes of society due to mental health issues, finances, and drug addictions, and park staff deal with them on the daily in some areas. Rangers sometimes live on site, which means they never really get to leave their jobs for an evening or a weekend. The work must get done, whatever the weather. And yet, despite budgetary constraints and all the other challenges, park employees discharge their duties with optimism and smiles and good humor. I will hold a special place in my heart for Olyvia, Emma, Carli, and Wes.

Onward!

As I write this I am currently making my way down the Pacific coast to my next gig, at El Capitan State Beach just outside Santa Barbara. I’ll be there from May 1 to November 1. If you’re in the area, be sure to stop by and say hello!