February 18, 2015 9:50 AM
Though I’ve been “moored” in Melbourne for over two months now, I have not slept a single night in my folks’ condo. Every evening I’ve stealth camped somewhere around town. My new favorite urban camps: Industrial business parks. Hotels are easier to find, but are noisy. Ditto apartment complexes. Ditto strip malls and big box stores which, by their nature, are usually built right next to busy highways.
Business parks though—since they don’t cater to the general public—are usually on the outskirts of town and, after everyone leaves for the night (6-7 pm), are quiet and empty of traffic. The van—with its side mounted, he-must-be-a-contractor ladder—fits right in.
As an experiment to see how long I can get away with it, every night for the last month I’ve been camped in the same business park—even going so far as to park in the same parking space. I’ve not had a single run-in with the law (nor anyone else for that matter). In after the sun goes down, out before it comes up.
Some may find urban stealth camping morally unethical, but I live by a “do no harm, leave no trace” policy. A vehicle, being a physical object, must reside somewhere at night, so what difference does it make where it’s parked if there’s no one about to see it? Sort of like the tree falling in the forest scenario.
Do no harm. Leave no trace. Blend in. If more nomads lived by these simple rules, there’d be less social stigma attached to the voluntarily downwardly mobile.
We found out yesterday that Mom’s second cataract surgery is scheduled for the 26th. Since she’s only got two eyes, this should be her last cyborgenic procedure for awhile. Once the mandatory two week bending and lifting ban expires, my time here in Central Florida should come to an end and peace and prosperity should fill the land.
Auspicious timing too. After a brief trip south to Key West, I should start a northerly migration right around the Spring solstice (March 21).
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