Camping Grounds.

—So important has this sort of travel become that it is estimated that about 3000 cities and towns over the country, beginning in the Middle West and now spread to both coasts, have public automobile camping grounds for the traveling visitors. These are provided and kept up by the cities themselves or by chambers of commerce or automobile clubs; sometimes by combinations of these organizations.

The question often arises, “Does it pay?” From a financial standpoint it probably pays the community as a whole even if every individual who subscribes does not receive reimbursement. In the first place the tourist’s impression of a city is influenced by the treatment he receives. If an effort is made to furnish him with a safe and comfortable camping site and with facilities for cooking and cleaning he returns home with praises for that city. He tells other tourists that he meets on the way, he tells his neighbors after he gets home, and other and still other tourists come. On the contrary if no provision is made for the tourist, if he is not met with a glad hand he naturally warns others to keep away or plan to pass through in the daytime, spending what spare time they have farther on in more hospitable centers.

Secondly, tourists always spend some money for food and supplies, for gasoline, tires, accessories, repairs, and with increasing frequency for hotels. Clothing and dry-goods stores profit to some extent. Since thousands of dollars are brought to those towns lying on the main thoroughfares having good camping facilities, and since this money will be respent by those receiving it directly, the entire community in the long run benefits by the touring traffic. Denver possibly averages 400 to 500 campers per day during the summer season. Omaha, Kansas City, Lincoln, Deadwood and all the smaller places to the Rocky Mountains entertain from 25 to 100 per day. The actual tourists are many more, for not nearly all camp along the way. The Omaha Auto Club registered cars in 1921 carrying over 40,000 tourists. Other gateways passed fully as many, and not nearly all took the trouble to look up the club office to register. During the winter season the gypsying traffic turns south and Georgia, Florida, and on west to California, benefit by it.

A traffic census made simultaneously on eighteen Nebraska roads, distributed widely over the state, of vehicles passing in one week (August 20-26, 1922), showed a total of 88,958 divided as follows:

CountyInter-
County
Inter-
State
TotalPercentage
Co.I-C.I-S.
Automobile40,59825,59513,56079,753513217
Light Truck 2,465   886   242 3,5936825 7
Heavy Truck 1,547   556   140 2,2436925 6
Horse-drawn, passenger 1,303  1,303
Horse-drawn, freight 2,066  2,066
Total47,97927,03713,94288,958

What is especially interesting in this connection is that nearly one-sixth of all the automobiles or one automobile in six, comes from without the state, and one in three from without the county. Connecticut censuses, Connecticut being a small state between thickly populated states, shows a much higher ratio, 47 per cent without the state.

All sorts of cars from the most expensive to the cheapest are found and they seem to be harmonious when on the camping ground; the Pierce-Arrow and the Rolls-Royce do not look disdainfully at the Ford and the Chevrolet, neither do the latter pretend an importance greater than their due.

Democracy of cars and democracy of people ought to lead to a better understanding all around. Some very excellent and well-to-do ladies of a western city went to a hotel in one of the national parks for luncheon. They were clad in khaki trousers and blouses which had seen considerable wear. The dining room was full and they were placed at a table where some distinguished looking and well-dressed men were talking stocks and bonds. The ladies in such garb were nonplused, they were embarrassed to the limit; but the men, being also gentlemen, gave their names and became acquainted. So pleasant proved this little dinner participated in by the khaki-clothed ladies and stylishly attired men that at its conclusion they shook hands heartily and bade each other Godspeed for the remaining journey and hoped that, not like ships that pass each other in the night, they would again meet to renew an acquaintance so happily begun. Such is the democracy of touring.

On the contrary an editorial writer in the Saturday Evening Post, November 18, 1922, expresses incredulity of the offhand opinion “that travel of any kind must rub off the sharp edges of provincialism.” He says the “American tourist in Europe has long been the subject of ridicule,” and that travel in many cases “appears to accentuate narrow-mindedness.” It is further argued that “too much travel means practical disfranchisement and a total lack of interest in local affairs.” There is no doubt but that anything, even touring, can be carried to extremes. The editorial concludes with the statement, however, that travel “can teach no lesson of more value than the knowledge that everywhere, whether the climate be hot or cold, the towns large or small, men of upstanding character are spending their lives to make those communities better places in which to live.” It must be acknowledged that the fact that only about one-half of the persons eligible to the franchise exercise the right of voting at the general elections indicates that not enough interest is taken in affairs of government. Anything which tends to decrease the interest is, therefore, bad. But moderate touring in our own country ought to give a person a wider view, a stronger love of country, and a deeper sense of the importance and benefits of citizenship therein.

A majority of the cars are of the type that would cost less than $1500, because there are more cars of that type in use. One of the most elaborate caravans seen on the D. L. D. highway this summer is a Winton six, with a lengthened frame on which is built a square van-like structure, with doors and windows and a rear observation platform. The driver’s seat is completely enclosed. By its side is a door which gives entrance to the interior of the car. Its size may be judged from the fact that the wheel base is 202 inches. In the front part of the car are rattan arm chairs deeply upholstered for all the members of the party. There is an ample aisle. In the rear of the car is a kitchenette, a lavatory, storerooms, cloak rooms and many miscellaneous conveniences. At night the car is run to a convenient place by the side of the road or in a special camping place. The end of the observation platform is let down, a tent is hooked over the rear hood, and there is room in a jiffy for cots for three people. Two double beds are made up in the aisle of the main car, giving plenty of room for seven.

In the morning it takes but little time to prepare breakfast in the kitchenette. The car has running water from a tank holding about thirty gallons. It is lighted by electricity and has every convenience that one can think of. This is the fourth car designed by its owner, Dr. E. J. Fithian of Grove City, Pennsylvania. It cost him a little less than $10,000. He believes it possible to plan a shorter car that will serve every purpose for a little more than $5000. The car makes from 150 to 200 miles a day over ordinary roads. It weighs 8200 pounds fully loaded with gas, water, and supplies. It is said to ride as easily as an ordinary automobile. The passengers sit in their chairs and watch the scenery glide by very much as from the window of a Pullman, but with this difference, that they are free to go and pause at will, and can see interesting sights, if they desire, off the main lines of travel.

Another caravan built on a Ford car passed through Lincoln last summer. It carried Mr. and Mrs. C. B. Hays of Great Falls, Montana, who have lived in it for two years, winter and summer. Failing health induced Mr. Hays to take to the simple life, and a stroke of paralysis made it impossible for Mrs. Hays to walk. Two years’ outdoor life and roughing it have restored health to both, besides during that time they have saved much on house rent.

In their caravan, the windows along the sides could be pushed out like an awning and an oil cloth curtain dropped down. On one side of the car a long cushion served as a seat during the day and by adding other cushions it made a bed at night. A large flat box did duty as a linen closet while fastened around the sides were numerous bags or pockets for taking care of articles which at home are kept in bureau drawers. In one corner was a small oil stove with a tiny oven upon which was cooked wholesome meals well relished by the outdoor wanderers.

When dinner was ready, the door of the china cupboard swung down on its hinges and a table large enough for two was soon dispensing nourishment for the hungry nomads. They dine, too, in the restful atmosphere of delightful music. No, not a phonograph. From the beamed ceiling of this unique house swings a yellow canary in his gilded cage. Can you imagine any music more alluring to perfect joy and rest or more alarming to the dread monster indigestion?

Even the crumbs are not wasted, for they are relished by the pug, who likes to sleep curled up on his bed on top of the fender.

At the side of the car Mr. Hays has apparently solved the hand signal problem for closed cars. A stuffed glove attached to a broad arm may be raised partially for a left-hand turn, fully for a right-hand turn, straight out to stop, and dropped to the side of the car when not in use. A white enamel water cooler was an attractive accessory to the dining room. A wash-board and a small tub told the story of how wearing apparel was laundered. Mrs. Hays wants a sewing machine, and although space is very much limited she says she will find the room.

Is there any wonder that health and youth return with this sort of “play” housekeeping. “Can you beat it?”