A Forced Vacation per Hurricane Milton

I'm generally a happy camper, literally and figuritively. I'm one of those chics who likes to consider myself pretty apt at camping and with basic survival tactics. I know how to fish and hunt. I know how to set up a tent. I was a Girl Scout in my youth and I've practiced outdoor living (RV, Van, and Tent) enough to have some valuable information to share with others. This article isn't about Camping Tips though. When the news began to scare the bojangles out of me with the direction of Hurricane Milton and the possibility of it reaching a Category 4 or 5, I did not panic. I stayed calm and packed up my car for camping as I was deciding which day was the best to leave. Though the area where I live was not ordered specifically for mandatory evacuation, many nearby areas were and I didn't want to chance it. I packed a small suitcase of clothes, a small bag of travel food, my laptop and cellphone, and my camping gear (tent, sleeping blanket, etc). I headed out on Monday the 7th (two days before the Hurricane was expected to make landfall) -- a day before the mass exodus of people who also decided to leave via I-75 on Tuesday.

I drove across I-4, then up I-95. I went through Orlando, Daytona, St. Augustine, Jacksonville, all the way to Savannah, Georgia, and even into the most southern tip of South Carolina at the border. I checked in three different states for hotels or motels to stay in during the storm. I explained that I had evacuated and asked if they offered any emergency discount. No. Not in Florida, or Georgia, or South Carolina. Instead of the motels being helpful and merciful to a woman all by herself in a little used car, they jacked up the prices. Most of the motels that I asked to help were either booked already from online reservations or wanted about $200 per night for a room. That was just plain awful. I'm on a fixed income. I only had enough money for gas and emergencies.

So I slept in the back seat of my tiny car for two out of the three nights I was on the forced "vacation". One night I was lucky enough to find a campspot in South Carolina, and slept more comfortably in my little tent. But even most camp locations that I had inquired with online or by phone call are wanting a reservation and a fee that ranges anywhere from $30 to $60 per night. Have they completely lost their minds? No wonder so many people sleep in their cars or vans or simply decide to embark on RV life. That's just crazy.

I can understand that hotels and motels are a business and they want to make profits, but taking advantage of people who are lost and running to save their lives is simply deplorable. Now that I'm back in Florida sitting in my chair and sleeping in my own bed again, I'm ashamed of my country. I can't believe that in all three states (Florida, Georgia, and South Carolina) there was no love for a fellow American in a crisis situation. This vacation proved to me that I still know how to camp, but it also showed me another face of America that I am ashamed of.