Leaving home

I hate to see this sign. Despite the fact that I spent my first 55 years in New Jersey, New Mexico is my home now, and I feel a pang every time I leave the state.

My 247-mile drive today went smoothly, and I didn't even start to tire until the last half hour. I found the AOK Camper Park without any trouble—it's just a quarter mile off I-40 outside of Amarillo—but if I hadn't called ahead, I'd have been certain that the place was long abandoned. This is the shabbiest RV park I've ever seen.

In fact, the "Office" building is abandoned—there's nobody there. Instead, you go in a little side door and find this:

That's right, you scribble your name on an envelope, shove some cash in it, and push it through the slot. I guess the owners come around once in awhile to pick up the envelopes.

Oh, and the best part? It's not only near the interstate, it's directly under the final leg of the flight path into Amarillo Airport!

That's OK; I just wanted a cheap overnight parking place with power. For $12 I won't complain. But I'll be using my earplugs tonight—that's for sure.