Paso Robles, CA. The thing outside our tent. Endless hills. A nighttime soak. Useless dog.

Some places you visit in life are just charmed. You can feel it in the air when you arrive.

Paso Robles was one of these places for us.

We arrived in the morning, awestruck by the endless hills and rows of evenly spaced grapevines. When we were still, you could see the imprint of the wind on the grasses as it pressed and pulled the flaxen straw in different directions, almost like a child absentmindedly patting a fluffy dog.

Minimalistic, cozy and inviting.

The tent was solid, though big cracks in the concrete foundation made me wonder if they’d been hit by earthquakes recently. Those cracks hadn’t been in the listing photos.

A laminated booklet hanging at the front of the tent shared a quick wiki of different types of rattlesnakes in the grasses around us, and warned us not to wander too far from the campsite (or to let any pets too far).

You didn’t have to tell these yuppies twice.

The host stopped by to check in with us and  share some insights about the spot. He let us know that we would likely hear some coyotes at night, but not to worry.. they would leave us alone. There were no big predators around like mountain lions or bears.

Largely reassured, I looked up coyotes to see what kind of threat we were facing.

Honestly? They could be cousins.

They seem to be about the size of a Bradley, like an American version of a dingo. As long as I keep my baby close by, I thought, they won’t have a chance to eat him.

We set up the Starlink to get internet and spent the next few hours working. Then we grabbed dinner in town.

When we came back, the sun had begun to set. It was a spectacular melange of blue and yellow.

Luke and Bradley watched the sunset silently.

As the sun finally disappeared beyond the hills, Luke started to prepare a nighttime bath.

String lights made the sunset feel festive.

There was a full outdoor bathroom setup with a horse trough doubling as a bathtub, along with some sort of box moderating the water flow and temperature.

Bradley thoroughly checked out our outdoor facilities earlier in the day.

I kept working until Luke returned.

“There’s a frog out there,” he warned me. “Don’t let it scare you.”

“Ok!” I said cheerily, shutting the laptop and grabbing my toiletries.

We suddenly heard tinny, high pitched howls, much like the sound Bradley makes when a siren rings. “Those must have been the coyotes our host told us about,” Luke observed.

I nodded and dubiously re-read the wiki on coyotes before stepping back outside for my own bath.

Outside the tent, without the cheery warmth and illumination of the sun, it suddenly felt less hospitable. It felt.. wild. Do snakes or coyotes hunt people in the dark? I mused.

I ignored the shiver up my spine and turned on my phone flashlight to better see the ground. The spotlight landed on a shiny wet blob, which leapt out of the weeds at my feet. Startled, I shrieked.

Similarly startled, the frog shot under the platform the makeshift toilet sat on.

I heard Luke laughing faintly from deep inside the tent. I grumbled, though I was also amused at myself, and set about making my bath.

You haven’t properly bathed until you’ve bathed in a horse trough under the stars. Just kidding, I don’t bath-shame.

With the water at a comfortable height and temperature, I settled back in the tub and watched as the stars started to emerge, winking brightly. We’d been too tired most nights to stay out long enough to actually see the stars.

I have to say, it was one of the most unique bathing experiences I’d ever had— well, besides bathing in the Colorado River inside of the Grand Canyon. I suppose my baths up to this year have been largely vanilla.

I finished, released the plug to drain the trough, and went to bed. Armed with his telescope, Luke stayed up a little longer to scout for shooting stars and see if the elusive Milky Way would emerge. By the time he returned, satisfied with his successful stargaze, I had already started to fall asleep.

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I woke up with a gasp at 2am, my senses immediately heightened and alert, though I was exhausted. Something was crunching the gravel right outside our tent. A person?

I looked over and saw that Luke had heard it too.

What is it? I whispered to Luke.

The crunching stopped.

“I think it’s a coyote,” he responded.

Nonplussed, we stayed silent and listened. After a long moment, the steps started again.

“What should we do?” I asked. The crunching stopped again. Whatever it was, it was patient.

“Is it stalking us?” I whispered.

“No,” Luke responded. “I think it’s just curious.”

I looked to our useless guard dog, who snoozed peacefully, seemingly unaware of the goings-on outside our tent. If I’d said his name, I’m sure he would be wide awake, but a creeper outside the tent? Nah, not worth two sniffs.

Luke got up to smack the side of the tent and yelled a couple of times to try and scare it away.

Bradley finally awoke and nosed us unhappily for disturbing his beauty rest.

We listened for a while longer. Each time, as I started to fall asleep again, I would hear another crunch of gravel and awaken again. I slept fitfully until I decided to put on my noise-canceling headphones. Let it come in the tent, I thought. I’m tired.

Despite the lack of sleep, we awoke refreshed.

Admiring the sunrise.

Couldn’t resist a car commercial shot with Lexi.

As we started to pack up, Luke pointed. A thick fog hovered slowly and silently over the hills. In mere minutes, it blanketed the nearby hill where cows grazed, obscuring them from view.

While we would have loved to stay longer to admire the natural beauty, there was no time to linger. It was time to move north to our next stop: Yosemite.