Do NOT, I repeat, do NOT stay at the Greenbelt National Park campground. The reader might be familiar with NYC's Central Park or L.A.'s Griffith Park. If so, the reader is invited to let his or her imagination run free vis-a-vis what it would be like if they allowed camping there. Always at the forefront of our nation, D.C. has rushed in where NYC and L.A. feared to tread.

The location is certainly attractive: just 13 miles from the Capitol. However, it's also in the middle of an urban area, with all the wackiness thereby implied. I arrived there before dark and set up my tent in an empty space, filling out the requisite form and placing a copy of it on the post next to my new parking space. I chose the furthest back tent site in order to gain what little privacy was possible.

When I returned at 11pm, I was quite surprised to find two cars in "my" space, together with two couples of drunk yahoos. Rather than chasing them off, and thereby letting them know where I was staying, I decided that moving my tent to another space was the better option. One of the yahoos told me that he'd just inherited $167,000, and offered to pay me to move. I decided against that, and I wish the recipients of his money the best of luck in their future endeavors.

In a car in the space next to my brand new space a young Asian lady had fallen asleep with the engine and lights and radio on. She has since awoken and settled down for the night in her back seat.

As I write this, a car alarm has just gone off. (Later on, the homeless girl turned her engine on again, the car alarm went off again, I heard a helicopter and planes and trucks, and, after finally getting some sleep, I was awakened by a whole tent city of newly-arrived boy scouts.)

Like I said, do NOT stay here. If you want the same experience, try this instead.