Been there, done that
We have a ball in Anchorage. We do a little bit of business. We get new tires at Costco and don't have to pay a bit of sales tax on them (no sales tax anywhere in the city of Anchorage). We do laundry, etc. We also have an incredibly difficult time finding safe places to camp. Our first night we end up in a kind of layby, side of the road, parking lot to what appears to be several miles of hiking/mountain bike trails just outside of a city-run botanical garden. NO OVERNIGHT CAMPING signs everywhere in this city except for this spot. Skip is nervous, stays half-awake, determined we are going to be rousted, so even though we're not, we get about half the depth of sleep we need. Bleck. Second night we try to camp under no camping signs at a gorgeous sunset makeout spot, unfortunately near the airport. Biiiiig mistake. We're exhausted from intense hiking, a day of errands, several hours in the amazing art and history museum of Anchorage. We put in earplugs but when a plane goes overhead every chakra, every tiny crinkle in our souls vibrates in a surging harmonic that makes us cum and giggle at the same time. We are just about asleep when the blue and red lights, the assertive knock with the Superpig Flashlight on the side of the van rousts us, and we must move on, desperate, until we find a (ick) Walmart Parking lot. We slip in to an awful, desperate, only going to get a couple of hours of real sleep. I (girl-bladder) am going to have to figure out a way to pee in the vacant lot next door. Ugh. This is truly awful. When we leave Anchorage, we will be so exhausted that I will think that the engine is failing, that we've blown a head. I will be driving down the highway unable to reach 55 miles per hour. Cars will pass us, honking and blinking, and finally I will realize that we have driven off with the camper top popped, that we are travelling 50 + mph with a giant canvas tent sticking out of our van. Wowch. We are lagging, gagging, dragging, not ourselves.