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Ralph and Mary Ann Feldt are from Michigan and have been full-timers for a couple of years. They love adventure, RVing, volunteering at state and national parks, and are excellent writers.
 An Unwelcomed Visitor
by Ralph Feldt
We moved on to Moorestown, where we are boondocking on an abandoned Christmas tree  farm of 120 acres. The folks who own it open it up to the Boondockers, a subgroup within Escapees. There are currently 10 rigs here and the population changes daily. Yesterday I decided to take an off road bike trip and spent two hours lost in the woods. I rambled about on unmarked snowmobile trails orienting completely by the sun. I saw quite a few deer and even some bear tracks. It was great once I reached a point where I knew where I was. Until then, I could imagine the search and rescue team following my tracks in the sand to find the body.

Every day there is a gathering around the fire, sometimes lasting all day long. We had two potlucks and a couple meals out. The people are really laid back. Life is good, especially since the weather is cooperating----- sunny days and cool nights. 

Someone else likes it here. Just after we set up, we were having lunch and both noticed what can best be described as a brown lump on the ceiling. Closer inspection revealed it to be a bat, contentedly hanging from the fabric. It must have entered when we were opening our rig.  I got out my landing net, intending to capture and release it.  I corralled it against the ceiling. Mary slid in a sheet of paper to dislodge it, and watched it drop into the net. Then all hell broke loose. The leathery little devil immediately escaped though the large mesh of the net and began flying around the rig. Iím here to tell you that Mary Lou and a bat in a confined space are far worse than either alone. Shrieking and protecting her head, she shouted instructions difficult at best to carry out, even if I had time and were so inclined. It made its way into the bedroom and she liked that even less. Finally I attacked the problem in logical stages. First, I got her out of the rig, her in this case being Mary Lou. I never got close enough to know whether the bat is a him or her. Then I went after the bat, leaving the door open and trying to herd it out. No luck. Finally it landed somewhere where I was able to entangle it temporarily in the net. I tossed the whole package out the door, the bat freed itself, and everyone was happy. It did leave a calling card. On my chair was a small bat splat. No appreciation at all for the one who awarded its freedom!