My Honda Motel Odyssey
By Charles P. Eberson
Senior Moments
One day I was relaxing by a pool in Florida debating whether I should apply more sunscreen. A few days later, I am sleeping in my van at a Walmart lot in rural Georgia contemplating my recent life decisions. What circuitous course have I taken to lead me here? It started with my wife, as things often do.
She wanted to go on a multi-week backpacking hike through the Georgia and North Carolina mountains. In full support and a lapse in judgment, I volunteered to be her SAG (support and gear) wagon. During the planning, I realized that staying in hotels for weeks on end would prove to be quite pricey, so I decided to convert my Honda Odyssey to my home on wheels. A platform for sleep was installed with storage underneath. I fitted out the vehicle with a sleeping bag, blackout panels and screens for the windows and even a small USB fan for circulation.
I watched numerous videos on stealth camping in vans. The general consensus was that Walmarts were the most supportive options and that campers and RVers generally use them when traveling, creating a little community unto themselves.
I pulled into the Cleveland, Georgia Walmart and as recommended, asked the manager if I can park overnight to which I received an approval. With nothing but time, I wandered around the store picking up food, a new pair of windshield wipers, a pair of jeans that were too cheap to pass up and ended up spending about what a hotel room would have cost. As nighttime fell, I prepared the van for my first night, covering up the windows, keeping my flashlight and keys handy (just in case) and started changing into my sleeping clothes.
At 6’2’’ inches tall, there was not much room to move around. The platform, memory foam mattress and sleeping bag left a minimum of space below the ceiling. Changing clothes in there was like playing Twister in the crawlspace under a house and I feared that one leg cramp would result in a window being kicked out. If you can imagine sleeping in an MRI scanner, that’s what it was like but nonetheless, slumber came on eventually.
As my wife’s route progressed, so did my Walmart journey. I made my next reservations at the Franklin, North Carolina Walmart by speaking to the manager who told me I could park wherever I wanted but just “be safe.” Not exactly a vote of confidence. It’s not as if the Cleveland Walmart was recommended by Conde Nast’s Traveler magazine but Franklin left a little to be desired as Walmart lots go. While I thought I was going to be hobnobbing with other adventurers seeking a temporary respite from their travels, instead I was among vehicles whose owners were a bit down on their luck. Walmart was not a short-term stay for them.
About one o’clock in the morning, I was awakened by the roar of high-performance pickup trucks and 4×4 ATVs that converted the parking lot into a drag strip. Eventually, the din died down and the grip on my car keys lessoned just a bit. I consulted my map of Walmarts as I traveled north to Silva, Waynesville, Brevard, Ashville, North Carolina, and hoped that my fortune would improve.
Instead, I decided to pack up and set off to find a campground. For 30 dollars, I found a campsite by a beautiful creek, a firepit and two perfectly spaced trees from which I was able to hang my hammock. The only sounds I heard before mercilessly drifting off were from the flowing creek and the crackling from the fire. A change in strategy was in order.
Charles Eberson has been in the newspaper business for over 25 years. He has worked as a writer, advertising executive, circulation manager and photographer. His photography can be viewed at charles-eberson.fineartamerica.com
