The wind died down during the night and is calm in the morning. By mid-morning it picks up a 
little, but nothing like yesterday. In the afternoon, we drive to Lake Meredith. On the way, Diane calls the Recreation Area Headquarters and is surprised to learn that there is only one park building, and it is not on the property—it is in the nearby town of Fritch, Texas. So though we arrive at HQ after closing, we pick up a flyer on their campgrounds and find out they are a little more organized than it sounded on the website.
Though we will have a long drive tomorrow to Diane’s mom’s house, we decide to stay at one of the listed campgrounds called Fritch Fortress. The several mile drive from town is through an area laced with dumping grounds for old vehicles, old trailers, old boats, old appliances, old catfish nailed on fence posts, and a generous assortment of other detritus to tie it all together. However, when we get on park property near the lake, things improve and we find the campground very nicely 
laid out in well-defined campsites with sheltered picnic tables, fire pits, restrooms, all on the bluff with a commanding view of the lake. There are no hookups, but there is a dump station and potable water near the campground entrance.
While I am doing the outside duties as we set up, I find numerous beer bottles and cans scattered on the ground. This nice overlook is obviously the sight of informal local nighttime partying. As I pick up all the bottles and cans I see, I hope that
no parties are planned for this Wednesday night. It is always a mystery to me why people won’t put their empties in a nearby trash barrel (there is one at every site here). I guess the really fun people just don’t have the time.
Anyhow, we enjoy the view a lot better knowing we leave the place a little cleaner than we found it.
little, but nothing like yesterday. In the afternoon, we drive to Lake Meredith. On the way, Diane calls the Recreation Area Headquarters and is surprised to learn that there is only one park building, and it is not on the property—it is in the nearby town of Fritch, Texas. So though we arrive at HQ after closing, we pick up a flyer on their campgrounds and find out they are a little more organized than it sounded on the website.
Though we will have a long drive tomorrow to Diane’s mom’s house, we decide to stay at one of the listed campgrounds called Fritch Fortress. The several mile drive from town is through an area laced with dumping grounds for old vehicles, old trailers, old boats, old appliances, old catfish nailed on fence posts, and a generous assortment of other detritus to tie it all together. However, when we get on park property near the lake, things improve and we find the campground very nicely 
laid out in well-defined campsites with sheltered picnic tables, fire pits, restrooms, all on the bluff with a commanding view of the lake. There are no hookups, but there is a dump station and potable water near the campground entrance.While I am doing the outside duties as we set up, I find numerous beer bottles and cans scattered on the ground. This nice overlook is obviously the sight of informal local nighttime partying. As I pick up all the bottles and cans I see, I hope that
no parties are planned for this Wednesday night. It is always a mystery to me why people won’t put their empties in a nearby trash barrel (there is one at every site here). I guess the really fun people just don’t have the time.Anyhow, we enjoy the view a lot better knowing we leave the place a little cleaner than we found it.
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