Welcome once again to the greater Los Angeles area, where everything is overcrowded, including our current RV park. We were lucky to even gain entry into this one given that it is the only one able to handle (barely) a rig our size. Usually they don’t even let patrons park their own rigs; for trailers they unhitch and the park takes over with a three ton forklift which literally jacks them into place. Fortunately for us, Marc got to park our rig but it may have had something to do with the fact that our trailer’s tongue weight is nearing 6000 pounds and the lift probably wouldn’t have worked in our case.
This park dates from 1938 when it was a P-38 training camp for pilots since the park sits immediately adjacent to the country’s busiest private airport. You can imagine in those days the size of the tiny trailers and how now there is a van, motorhome, bumper tow or fifth wheel jammed into every possible inch of this acreage. What space isn’t occupied by a unit is filled with everyone’s vehicles, primarily pickup trucks. They have taken over both sides of the main road, now perilously narrowed, and one side of each spur road—all ending in a dead end, necessitating everyone to back out again. The final picture shows a good example of one of the spur roads filled with cars.
Initially Marc was able to park the FL on the back side of our space as seen in the intro photo but was told this was actually another RV space that was soon to be occupied. You can note the size as you gaze at this photo I took when Marc was backing into our space. I’m sure you’re tempted to say “huh?” as I did. Well, today, this is what it looks like from my front steps now gazing at the van occupying the Freightliner’s previous parking space. Can you say cozy? Thank God we are not in a motorhome where bedroom walls would nearly be touching!
I’ll think I’ll call this gorilla camping—it goes well beyond combat camping.