Oz Campground - plus why a gay campground

So I just spend two days at a campground called Oz in Unadilla Georgia.  When Peter and I were at another gay campground in Georgia called Roy’s Hideaway, everyone said Oz is better.  So I figured since I was going through Georgia I might as well take the opportunity to go and see what was what.  Well, the folks were right; it was far superior to Roy’s - both the campground and the people.  It was really pretty, very well maintained and laid out well.  The only problem was that they grouped together the tent campers, the RV’s and travel trailers, and the perm sites (the sites that are rented out for the full year and are, for all intents and purposes, the summer homes of the residents... referred to as Perms).

I arrived Saturday afternoon.  Unfortunately, I had one of my “stupid” moments... you know, when you do something really stupid and later can’t quite figure out if you would do it any differently the next time around since you just didn’t know?  Anyway, thinking I was following the instructions I was given, I drove past the cabins, under the trees, etc and unhooked the car near the front of camp.  I then continued down the road and took the next right... but instantly I was concerned... those trees are kind of low, I thought.  But then I remembered some videos complaining about the larger coaches needing more tree pruning and how some campgrounds just don’t take that into consideration.  SO, down the road I go, through the trees and I wind up in an area that was all tents.  Yikes! (and that is not what I really said!) I was definitely not in the right place and I was like the bull in the china closet... and there was no way to keep my hands in my pockets in this china shop, Mom (private joke, but you get the jist).  Well, Mr New RV Driver managed to make a u-turn and not even tap anything.  Not the tents, not the trash cans, not the trees... nothing.  As I finished the turn, there are four people there clapping.  HAHA... evidently they were impressed.  All I wanted was to know where I was supposed to go.  They told me I had overshot the RV area.  Turns out my car was parked right next to where I needed to turn, not at the front of camp as I thought.  Evidently the camp area is way smaller than I thought. Look at the map and you can see... that first “fork” was nowhere near as obvious as it looks on the map, so I thought the turn to the RV part was that first fork.

Anyway, I quickly set up my campsite (I pulled out two chairs, set up my DynaTrap for bugs) and hooked up the water, sewer and electric) and hightailed it to the pool to catch the remainder of the afternoon.  Unlike the campground I love in Pennsylvania, Oz was very low keyed and decidedly not crowded.  There was a nice group of people, men and women, at the pool and everyone was really friendly.  I wound up in the pool for three hours chatting with different people.  Two couples were new to full-timing so that was fun to share all the trials and tribulations that it takes to sell your house, get rid of everything and hit the road.  Plus much talk about planning trips and making your plans “in jello” since you can change you mind and stay or go whenever you want to.  The best thing for me was that lots of the questions I had, they had too.  And they didn’t have answers.  And they didn’t care.  Life now was about figuring it out as you went.  I listened.  I am learning.  It’s good.

Here’s the fun part.  Every person, every single person, said something to the effect of, “OH, are you the guy that pulled the huge rig into the tent area?  Nice job getting out though.”  My desire for fame was not assuaged... at all.  

ut despite my mis-rambling, the campground was lovely.  Two ponds, lots of nice landscaping, a mixture of tropical and desert, an interesting and very effective mix.  Lots of flowering trees, including TONS of in bloom crepemyrtle trees... my favorite, especially in the South where they are more like trees than the bushes that grow in Pennsylvania.  Of course, I did not get enough pictures.  So for that I apologize.  I will get more as I get used to doing this.

Sunday almost everyone went home.  The RV section was empty.  There were some Perms at the pool and one person who was just there for the day.  We struck up a good conversation for a while.  Then I happily sat in the sun and read a book.  That works too.  Going back, it looked very lonely ...

You can also see that it did rain before I got there and the night before I left.  WOW, Georgia soil is bright orange and very clay-rich.

I did have company at one point. but he was a bit quackers!

So some friends have asked me why I like to go to the gay campgrounds.  The answer is pretty simple. First of all, most of them are clothing optional and I enjoy that aspect.  Second, being a gay campground means that I somehow feel like I fit in better when I am there.  It’s not that anyone acts particularly differently, it is just that everyone understands the perspective is somehow different when you are gay and living in a straight world.  I suspect that it is the same for any minority group.  There is just a different type of comfort level.  I don’t know that I necessarily act any differently, but if I want to, I can.  Last thing is pretty much an accepted thing... gay guys know how to have a good time!  They know how to let go... they know how to party.  I guess that’s why there are always straight couples at the gay campgrounds.  They want to have a better time than they will at a non-gay resort and maybe they like being naked too.  Who knows.  There are usually some Lesbians mixed into the group and, while that changes the dynamic a bit, it just adds a bit of a different spice to a great mix of people.  I am sure these are generalizations, and I have been to some that were way less than lovely and have even left one that was just too unkempt and unseemly to stay... but I enjoy a spattering of gay campgrounds mixed in with the rest.

Can I make one more observation as I sit in the next campground in South Carolina, right near Savannah... I am sitting outside typing away.  People have driven by and I raise my head up for each and everyone.  People have walked by and I say hello.  I get virtually no response.  The cars just drive by not looking who is outside and the people look up and say hello then go back to their phones or their own thoughts.  I have been in campgrounds where you can have a bit of a conversation with others and I know there are a lot of people who are very social at all campgrounds, but in a gay campground I say hello to everyone and they cheerfully say hello and our eyes meet and the hello feels genuinely nice.  In a gay campground, few people just drive by... they cruise by... they wave, sometimes they stop.  I have noticed that in towns that have a larger gay population too... Gay men tend to look at everyone, in the eyes, and say hello or at least nod.  It’s a subtle difference, but I suspect that adds to my incredible comfort when I am at a gay campground.  I feel welcome.  I feel like a part of the community, even if it’s only for one or two nights.  The super social part of me really likes that.  And if I am not in the mood, I can always go and chill out inside the Beast... but I just have to say, that I like feeling welcome when I am away from home.  It will be interesting to see how this holds true as I visit more and more campgrounds.

The ride to Savannah was, for some reason, joyous.  I felt really happy and realized that I was not worrying about anything.  That is not usual for me!  It felt really good.  I liked the rural parts better than the big highways, but sometimes you are just trying to get some miles under your belt!

Off I go to start exploring Savannah.  More later...