Here are a few tips:
- Follow the brown signs. They will point you to hidden and not very well known treasures, or at least to a good place to camp.
- Little two-lane roads labeled "scenic view" in the Rand McNally Road Atlas (the ones with the little green dots) are worth traveling down, unless you are in a hurry to g
et from point A to point B. - Listen to William Shatner. Captain Kirk knows what he is talking about. Priceline.com is amazing and hard to beat. If you know your destination, make a bid. You won't know the exact hotel you will get, but we have gotten amazing deals, and never been sent to a dump. If you choose a 3-star hotel, even in a big city like New York or San Francisco, you will probably end up in a fancy and beautiful place for a Holiday Inn price. If you go for a 2 and a half star hotel, you will get something on the le
vel of a Comfort or Hampton Inn. One thing to remember, the fancy 3-star hotels charge extra for the parking garage and give nothing away without charging. There will be no laundry washing machine on-site. However, in a 2.5-star hotel you will be able to do your laundry for a few dollars in coins and enjoy a complimentary breakfast for free. - Be sure to stop at local produce stands and to sample local cuisine. Enjoying the foods of an area makes it all the more fun. We have enjoyed boudin balls in Louisiana, beignets in New Orleans, sourdough bread in San Francisco, TexMex foods like tamales in the Southwest, wine and cheese in Napa Valley, boiled peanuts in the South, crab chowder in Boston, Nathan's hot dogs in New York City, and conch fritters in Key West. They were all well worth it!
- On long trips, carry a small tent and compact camping supplies with you. They may come in handy if you cannot find a hotel room, or if you just decide you want to camp at a beautiful site.
- Speaking of camping, all the National Parks in the US are well-maintained, safe, and beautiful, but beware--you may need to make camping reservations well in advance, especially in the "high season." Almost all state parks meet the same high standards, and some of these are not as crowded. If you do not want to tent camp, you may be able to rent a small cabin for less than a motel room.
- Make sure you carry toilet paper with you. TP is not in the same short supply in the US as it is in Mexico (ha-ha), but you never know when you might be grateful to have a few spare squares.
All of your information is really useful and interesting and I was laughing a lot when I read about the differences between the amount of toilet paper that you can get in a public Mexican bathroom :)
ReplyDeleteI specially found interesting the idea to pay attention about brown sings and the benefits about the 2.5 star hotel. Although I agree about to enjoy a local cousin, because is the best option to have a hole picture of the place.
I have some questions and I hope you can help me. The first one is about camping in the middle of nowhere, do that is possible and allowed? or always the best option is a National Park.
The other one is about to rent a motorhome. Do you thing that this could be a good idea? or could be really bad idea because is difficult to enter to a big cities or maybe they have a lot of restrictions.
Thnks
btw, i think edmundo meant Cuisine in the second paragraph. I certainly hope he isn't trying to enjoy any of my local cousins! :P
ReplyDeleteThe problem with just camping out in the middle of nowhere, is that everywhere is somewhere, and every square inch of the United States is either government land, or belongs to some corporation or person. If it is posted as U.S. Government land, it is either run by the Dept. of Agriculture (National Forest) or the Dept. of the Interior (National Parks and Recreation Areas). In either case, you have to register and get a permit for "primitive tent camping". They will give you a map, and you will tell them where you plan to hike and camp. This is a good thing, because if you fall and get hurt, or if you just get lost, they might come out and try to find you. These places are full of forest and park rangers, who might give you a friendly scolding and sell you a permit on the spot, but then cops are cops and you never know. It's probably better to play by their rules. Basically you either choose a numbered camp site, and camp with the rest of the tourists, or you register for "primitive camping". Or course, primitive means no toilets or running water. State Parks work the same way. The rangers are very helpful and friendly, but if you aren't going to a numbered campsite, you need to tell them your plans and get their OK.
ReplyDeleteIf you park on somebody's private land you could be awakened by someone holding a shotgun, arrested, and fined. This happened years ago to Abra's Uncle Pete. He was floating down the Suwannee River in his kyak, and just paddled over to the bank to stretch his legs and eat lunch. After only about twenty minutes, some old farmer and a sherrif's deputy stepped out of the bushes and hauled him off to jail! He had to go to court, listen to some old country judge lecture him about how you city people think you can just do whatever you want, and pay a $200 fine.
In the summer of 1976, Brenda and I decided to move from Gainesville, Florida, where we had gone to college, to the San Francisco Bay area of California. We bought a used, full sized, pick up truck with a slide-in camper in the back. I don't know if they even make them anymore. With the truck's tailgate down, this thing had been slid into the bed of the truck, like a giant box, and bolted and strapped down. It was pretty cool. Inside, it had narrow bed platforms on each side with thick, cloth-covered cushion mattresses to make single beds. It even had cabinets for storing stuff, and a built in cooler. We crossed the country with all our possessions, like pioneers in a covered wagon. (Of course, we could drive on inter-state highways!)
ReplyDeleteBrenda's parents had been planning a vacation to California too. (They were on their way to a square dance convention in Anaheim.) With teenager Wanda, and the twelve-year old twins, Barry and Cary, they were driving their huge Winnebego motor home. It was about 14 feet tall, 8 feet wide and at least thirty feet long. I'm not kidding. It must have been like driving a house!
I drove our truck/camper behind them all the way to the gates of Disneyland, where we said goodbye and headed north. As much as my truck/camper might have sucked gas, Brenda's dad was pulling over to get more gas when my gauge said I still had half of a tank. With today's gas prices, it would probably be cheaper to drive a small car and just pull into a motel along the highway! I don't know of any restrictions on driving RVs in the city, but it would be a challenge to do it in busy traffic, with narrow lanes, and only your side mirrors to see what is around you. The day we left Gainesville forever (or so we thought then) we decided to drive into a fast-food joint to get a few hamburgers. I wasn't used to driving the RV camper, and forgot how tall I was. After ordering our food through the squawk box, I pulled forward to the window to get the burgers. The cashier's window was under a roof that extended over the pick-up lane. As I reached my hand out, clutching a five-dollar bill, I heard the crashing sound of falling glass. The top of my camper had smashed a fluorescent overhead light fixture. Since we were leaving town anyway, and had lost our appetite for burgers, I hit the gas and kept going.