Good Sam

It’s been over two months since we left New Hampshire. Our camping adventures have brought us in contact with a good cross-section of the population from grandmotherly types to a gun-toting libertarian. The boys have met dozens of adults and played with even more kids they’ve come across along our stateside journey. For those who have followed along our blog since Guatemala, you might have an idea what kind of theme our people-encounters have followed.  Here are a few encounters.

In Colorado, Shelly and I needed to do some research about our next camping spot so we used the WiFi available at a local shop on Main Street. The boys entertained themselves by playing with pebbles on the sidewalk in front of the shop. Two ladies were sitting at a table in front of the shop. One of them had recently gotten off work at a bakery next door. She decided the boys might be happier with some sidewalk chalk so she went and fetched some from the closed bakery. The boys heavily decorated Main Street while Shelly and I figured out our next move.

In southern Utah, we found an inexpensive campground with ample amenities. The boys were tickled to find a basic playground there, but were even more thrilled when a group of teenage boy scouts invited them in to their game of pickup baseball. The scouts helped Baxter and Atticus feel like they were stars.

In northern Utah, our family attended its first rodeo. We had no idea what to expect but thought it would be a great experience with local flavor and would be worth the indulgence for tickets. Walking from the parking lot to the ticket booth, I heard a woman behind me call “Hey mister!” She had to call twice before I realized she might be calling to me. When I turned around, she asked if we had tickets yet. She told me she had five reserved seats she wasn’t going to use. We weren’t planning to buy the more expensive reserved seating tickets, but I asked her how much she would like to sell them for. “Oh I don’t want any money for them, mister. I just didn’t want them to go to waste. Take all of them so you have an extra spot to put down your bags.” We thoroughly enjoyed the rodeo and having some unexpected pocket change to buy some treats.

In Idaho, we tried our first “boondocking” adventure where someone opens his private land to campers to use. Having found out about this boondock online we weren’t fully sure what to expect when we rolled in with our trailer. Ironically, this location shares a fence line with the local KOA which charges over $40 a night. We spent two nights next door for no charge while we were checking out Craters of the Moon National Monument.

The host who opened his land to us went by the nickname of Scar. He bought this parcel of land and named it Honey’s Park for a sickly dog he had promised a park to. 

Though Honey has passed on, Scar has two more dogs who live with him in his trailer on the land.  Our boys loved playing with the dogs. 

They loved the four-wheeler rides Scar offered them.

We shared a few meals with Scar at his picnic table, lingering to socialize. I asked Scar why he opens his land to strangers for free. He told me that he’s helped run homeless shelters in the past and doesn’t see why he shouldn’t share what he has with people who might not have. And evidently he’s been down on his luck before and wants to do what he can to provide for others while he can. It also seems to guarantee a unique social element.

Scar gave us more than we expected. And he expected nothing in return. He is a sweet man with a big heart. Oh, that gun-toting libertarian I mentioned at the beginning—that’s Scar.  We couldn’t be happier that our path crossed his.

At times, it would be easy to take a skeptical view of the world and guard ourselves against the ill-intentions we could assume others might have. But we keep meeting people who are genuinely kind and it encourages us to look for kindness and to find ways to pay it forward.