Summary of “Don’t Camp at Walmart”

It’s tempting to pull Artemis the Airstream into a Walmart.
We’d already been on the move since dawn, the low tangerine sun behind us cast long shadows from the saguaros, and Deming was still three hours up the road. In these pinch moments, when we’re tired, short on time, don’t want to hassle with setup-and only in these moments-it’s tempting to pull Artemis, which is what we call our Airstream, into a Walmart.
Many of the company’s stores allow RVs and trailers to camp in their lots, providing simplicity and succor to weary travelers.
The one time we took refuge in a big-box parking lot, we were anxious and exposed all night beneath the blue fluorescent lights, and felt cheap and dirty in the morning.
Camping in a parking lot is simply unnecessary, at least not in the American West.After scanning my phone for a Walmart and resisting the temptation, I flipped over to the OnX app and discovered that we were surrounded by mountains.
Since we’d only be staying overnight, we didn’t even unhook the trailer, which meant there was just enough time to pull out the camp chairs and sip some bourbon before the sun dropped below the jigsaw horizon.
Sandwiching between a dozen campers in a concrete parking lot is as close to our experience at Bread Rocks as tract suburban housing is to a bucolic country bungalow.
The camp host offered us a patch in the group site with four other rigs, but we declined.

The orginal article.