North Shore Campground, Lake Almanor (2)

FAIR WARNING: This entry is not like my typical camping posts. It’s very much about “politics.” If that is not your cup of tea, maybe skip this one. It’s also really really LONG. For the tl:dr version: I DO NOT RECOMMEND THIS CAMPGROUND.

I try hard not to diss privately owned campgrounds. If I didn’t like a place, I’ll try to point out the positives while maybe stopping short of offering a recommendation. Running a private campground, like running any small, independent business, is very hard work, I know that. I don’t take for granted all the effort that must go into keeping a place running, especially in the hospitality industry. People are annoying a lot of the time, and it must be demanding to cater to travelers, always trying to be polite, balancing individual needs with the needs of other people enjoying their vacations. I imagine it is hard to make ends meet and have the time, energy, or money to take care of your own needs. In parts of the country that have been devastated by natural disasters, the struggle is amplified by magnitudes of difficulty. The community around Lake Almanor was heavily impacted by the Dixie Fire, which began on July 13, 2021, and burned 963,309 acres. People here have been endeavoring to put things back together for four years, but I understand that it must be very challenging. So I try hard not to diss privately owned campgrounds, especially here. But here we go. This one is an exception. They pushed the wrong buttons at the wrong time.

I am no stranger to seeing huge Trump flags placed outside businesses. We have driven a lot of miles of this country, down a lot of back roads, and we certainly see bars and restaurants flying their banners of belonging as we happily pass them by. We are not naive about the existence of these people. And any time we see those symbols connected to a place of business, we can knowingly avoid spending our money there. I also know there are plenty of supporters who do not advertise their sentiments. If I cared enough to research their political donations, I suppose I could, but that would be on me to do the research. I can avoid big businesses known to be significant enablers, but I’m not going to worry about the small businesses, unless they shove it in my face.

Consider the difference though, between a restaurant, clothing store, even grocery store, vs a campground. When you reserve a site at a campground, particularly on a Friday of a holiday weekend, you have already submitted payment. Depending on the cancellation policy of the campground (which is, let’s say, strict in this particular case), you cannot simply drive away at the door, with your trailer in tow. You not only would incur financial penalties for taking your business elsewhere, but you also would have no guarantee of finding other accommodations, again, especially on a Friday of a holiday weekend. You are automatically placed in a compromised, vulnerable position when you are traveling. For a campground owner to fly a Trump flag at the entrance, right over their check in office, they are counting on their guests to quietly accept their symbols of fascism, and they are in a position of power here.

We pulled up to the gate of the North Shore Campground around 1:30 on Friday, July 4th. We made a three day reservation back in January, selecting a premium hookup site with a water view, and paid the non refundable site lock in fee. This was to be a special 4th of July treat, following a long stint of no hookups. We got the water proximate site because we wanted to see the fireworks go off over the lake. It was a splurge, and we had no indication from their website or reservation site that this was anything but a nice, albeit expensive, campground. When I saw their Trump flag proudly displayed, just beyond the key card activated main gate, hung intentionally low enough to be unmissable, something inside me quietly dislodged.

I sucked it up, because that was what was expected. I rationalized and told myself it was no big deal, because that is what they are counting on. I wrestled with whether there were small, after the fact, actions I could take so as not to create discord or inconvenience in the moment. Maybe there was an email of protest I could write later. Maybe I could leave a poor online review. I was uneasy about the idea of saying anything in the moment because I didn’t want to put us, or Dory, into a situation that could turn ugly. All of this is expected, and intended, and I went along, in silent submission, giving tacit permission as we drove forward, under that domineering flag.

This is the very mechanism of subordination. It relies on an uneven power dynamic so that the bully can leverage their power against the vulnerable, who will most likely go along and say nothing, because it is far easier. It presents as such a small thing; just a flag. To challenge it makes the plaintiff look a fool, and that is by design. I do not assume that the person who placed that flag was consciously aware of any of this. But I do know that the placement of the symbol is expected not to be challenged. They expect you to either agree, or comply as you enter their territory. I imagine these are “nice” people, who smile and ask you where you’re from, and whether there is anything you need. I imagine they have curated their “news” sources to the point they can’t comprehend those who do not share their views. I imagine the information they do pursue only serves to shape a perceived reality of persecution and righteousness. I imagine they rationalize why it is perfectly ok for them to “express their opinion” in their own place of business, and that they only subconsciously understand the machinery of the manipulation. By the way, they have also placed a permanently mounted sign in the dump station saying: INSERT YOUR BIDENS HERE. Just a joke, right? Can’t you take a joke?

Fascism is very much on my mind these days. We recently finished watching the “Andor” series, which you should definitely watch too. It is mind blowing how, even though this was written and produced way before the November election, there are so many parallels to current events. I suppose that is because there is a predictable play book for authoritarian takeovers. We also rewatched “Rogue One,” which now has far more meaning and context than when it first came out. And I have been reading a lot of analyses, written by people who are experts in authoritarianism, as they explain what is happening right now in the United States. If you are not aware or not paying attention to any of what is happening – Hey guess what. We are well along the path to authoritarian dictatorship. With the signing of the recent bill on July 4th, many terrible things have now been solidified that will hurt millions of vulnerable people and accelerate the process of regime control.

With all of this as context, I walked out in the dark to see the fireworks show take place over the lake, as tears streamed down my face. I was overwhelmed by the banality of seeing children playing, while their parents, adorned in as much red white and blue as they could wear or paint on their bodies, drank beers, either blissfully unaware, or uncomprehending of the profound cruelty contained in that bill. All of this, juxtaposed against the fall of the ideals of the country I love, gaveled into law on the 4th of July, pounded in my chest and choked my breath.

The fireworks show was laughably far from where the campground is situated on the lake. We didn’t know the most strategic location to try, so we made a guess at where we could maybe see them the best. It was such a perfect metaphor. From this Trumpian stronghold, the lights meant to commemorate the victorious revolution against a tyrannical king, could barely be seen. They were small and distant, faint and hardly perceptible. Like the expectation of hope, that you know is supposed to be there, but you can’t quite see.

Richard was super supportive and we tried to shake off the feelings with the distraction of a movie. That helped to interrupt the spin, but come morning, there was something screaming at me from within. We tried talking about what we could do for fun, and then Richard offered the idea that we could consider moving. I argued hard against that idea. It would cost money. It would be a lot of work to even find a place. It would mean hitching up and moving. Just comply. Just go along. Just move past it and get over it. It’s just a flag.

As much as I offered convincing reasons why we should submit to the circumstances, that voice inside just raged louder. Honestly, it wasn’t until I asked myself what story I wanted to write on this blog post, that I finally heard what that voice was saying. “I want to write the story that we did not comply, that we left.” There was a subtle give in the tension I felt in my chest and forehead, just by thinking that idea.

So we left. It wasn’t easy. We had to drive around to three different campgrounds, awkwardly asking if they had any sites on a Saturday of the 4th of July weekend. They must have thought we were very very stupid. As luck would have it, we did get a good lead on a nice place just getting itself back on its feet after the fire. You’ll be relieved to hear I will be writing a glowing review of that place in my next post. We went back to get Dory, and on our way out, AFTER going through the gate, Richard walked to the office to return the key card. He simply told the nice woman at the desk, “You made the choice to be very offensive, so we are leaving. I will be putting this charge in dispute.” She said something like, “Oh no,” as he walked out, got in the car, and we sped away.

As a follow up, I have emailed the campground about our dissatisfaction with their practices, and have posted negative online reviews to alert others to their business practices. I doubt we will get the refund through the charge dispute with the bank, but we might as well try.

This story reminds me of my reaction when I went on the “Star Wars: Rise of the Resistance” ride at Disneyland. I remember it because, even though it was all pretend, my impulse to comply with the actors in the Stormtrooper costumes was extremely strong. I came out of that somewhat disappointed in myself, realizing that I was no freedom fighter. This experience has taught me that maybe I do have it in me to stand up to the machinery of fascism. Maybe not in a fist fight, but in a way that honors my instincts when I know something is wrong. In the battle between submission and inconvenience, the little voice won this round. It’s nice to know it’s there. I maybe need to learn to listen to it better, so that I can trust it when it is telling me: NO. This is not ok. Do not comply. It seems a very small thing, but it is in the small capitulations that they win. Not today, North Shore Campground. Not today.

Total price for fighting tyranny: $281.45 wasted premium site reservation, + $130 reservation at excellent new place. Discovering I possess a small but mighty Inner Voice of the Resistance: priceless.