Tip For Ladies Camping and Traveling Alone: It’s Okay to be Rude
Blue River, Tishomingo, Oklahoma
When you’re on a quest for free camping, you never really know what you’re going to find or who you’re going to meet. You have to have your wits about you and understand that not everyone is good. In fact, there’s a good chance some people out there are serial killers.
A huge number of people go missing each year in the National Forests and THE SECRET VANISHINGS IN AMERICA’S NATIONAL PARKS is an eerie article with an interesting side note that no one carrying a firearm had ever vanished. Be aware, and have a plan in case you need to defend yourself…
While searching for free camping on the Blue River in Oklahoma, my GPS led me to the exact location of a lone, desolate bathroom. Yay!
There have been several occasions where the campsite I was looking for just wasn’t there. I was hoping this would not be one of those times. I drove around and found what looked to be a huge dirt parking lot. There was a “Designated Camping” sign at the edge of it and a few fire pits along the perimeter.
Weird.
There was one car in the parking lot and a large, shirtless man stood near the trunk fiddling with his inner-tube. This is, fortunately, not a euphemism as it. His large belly hung haphazardly over the waistband of his tan shorts and it was obvious beer and Cheetos were probably good friends of his.
I parked my car nearby and stepped out of it to ask him if he knew if there was a more legitimate looking designated camping area. Before I could get past “Hi,” he began telling all about his divorce and how crazy his ex was and how she posed their 7 year old child with a gun and beer cans to make it look like he was leaving his kid alone with guns and alcohol. He continued on along those lines for quite some time and I learned way more about him and his ex-wife than anyone should ever know.
I just wanted to see if he knew where the tent sites were.
After what seemed like an hour, but was probably only 5-10 minutes, of talking and watching his waistband move dangerously low, I eased my way out of the conversation by saying I needed to find a site and get set up before dark. It was already 6PM.
He walked over to shake my hand as he proclaimed what a pleasure it was to meet me. My gut told me to watch out. So, I made sure my handshake was as firm and strong as possible to politely and intentionally let him know I am not weak and not one to be messed with.
As I began to open my car door to get back in, he began to come towards me holding a tube of something in his hand.
Sunscreen.
Sunscreen?
He asked me if I would rub some on the back of his shoulders since he couldn’t reach back there.
“Oh, HELL no!” I thought.
“No, I’m not comfortable doing that.” I said, very matter-of-factly.
He looked surprised. “You’re not comfortable with it?”
“Nope!”
He looked confused, but didn’t come any closer. He started to walk away, took one step, looked back at me with a confused face, then continued walking away and toward the water. His look seemed to say, “Not comfortable? That’s not what she’s supposed to say?”
The look of confusion also had an air of, “That was rude. That’s not how polite women respond.” And he would be right! It was rude and women are taught to be polite and to serve others. Unfortunately, predators know and use this to their advantage. Sometimes you need to be considered rude. Who cares what the creepy guy asking for a sunscreen rub at 6PM thinks?
I quickly got in my car and headed towards a gravel road at the end of the parking lot. “What was that?” I thought. The confused look told me I had jacked up his plans and I don’t think his actual plan included a legitimate need for sunscreen at 6PM.
Touching someone’s upper back is way too close to get to a stranger and especially one that is 3-4 times my size. All it would take for him to attack and have me under control in a second would be to reach back, grab my wrist, quickly turn himself around and, if he did it right, that would turn me facing away from him. If he was still in control of my wrist with one hand, one quick push on that same shoulder, with his other hand, could easily guide me to the ground where fatty could control me just by sitting on me.
That scenario is more nuanced than even necessary. If I were so close that my hand is touching his back, there are several ways he could easily knock me to the ground or knock me unconscious in a blink of an eye.
It would be so incredibly stupid of me to say, “Okay, strange guy with too many life details exposed, I would love to rub sunscreen on your back at 6PM and put myself in a vulnerable position so that you can play out whatever creepy scenario is going on in your head right now.”
I would much rather be considered rude than be raped or murdered, or held hostage in a cage in a basement and only fed beans and Gatorade.
So, don’t be stupid, be rude!
I ended up finding a legitimate campsite down that gravel road I mentioned. About an hour or so later, Captain Sunscreen drove past it one way. A few minutes later, he drove past it the opposite way. He obviously knew my car, which was parked just off the gravel road, so I had no doubt he knew where I would be sleeping that night.
This is why I love guns! They are great at alleviating fear and worry by leveling the playing field.
The Sunscreen King did not return that night, but when I went back to where my car had been parked during our discussion, I found this resting on the stump that he had walked past as I was being “rude.” This was where he had his confused look.
I know angels are all around me and I know they protect me. Whether it is or isn’t a sign that one was there, or not, who knows? I will let my imagination run wild with this thought…
I suspect there was an angel right there and, when Serial Sunscreener was trying to decide if he should go to Plan B when Plan A failed, I believe that angel convinced him to give up on any of his plans.
I could be wrong, but even so, I still like the version of the story my imagination wants to tell.
Ladies, be rude! Not dead!
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