We all have our ways of dealing with the scary stuff.

I’m not talking about anger-driven cars trying to push you off the road, but that’s SCARY! Only advice I have for those situations is: think fast and move slow.

I’m referring to those paperback thriller scenarios which seem to haunt us all when we are traveling alone. First piece of advice, don’t read those anymore, especially at night. Just like your Mama said.

Get yourself a bottle of wine and a comedy book instead. You can find a second use for them later.

My main security feature on the road comes as a built-in: Instinct.

Listen to your instincts. Seriously. You know that little voice that says you shouldn’t try to fill the salt shaker unless you stand over the sink? The same brain pricks will happen if you are conscious of your surroundings. Keep yourself present, wherever you are. You’ve done it your whole life when you needed to, you just need to do it more consciously, and often, when you’re traveling. Nests get complacent. Travel nests change. You don’t need to have great street smarts or mad karate skills to be safe.

It might sound like extra stress, but being more present has the added benefit of gathering amazing sensory experiences to your adventure. It really doesn’t feel like work at all. You will hear the owls, smell the rain, and see the violets beginning to blossom. It’s a bonus perk. People, animals, and even the sky have energies. Feel them. If it feels wrong, move. There’s too many places that feel right, to stay in one that feels wrong.

Okay, so we’re present.

What possible “bad” situations would you need to be prepared for?

It’s kind of like building the emergency backpack you keep in your car in the winter in northern Michigan. Nobody builds an emergency car kit like us Michigan girls.

So what goes in my emergency kit?

My first thought was: I have my epi-pen with me, so I’m armed against killer bees. (For me, they are all killer bees.)

My other mainstay is a charged cell phone. Always. With. Me. (Except that one time it was at the bottom of the river.)

Because I live in a small (okay, tiny) space, while considering resources and protection methods for the “what if” scenarios, I followed the same process I do for all items I think of adding into the camper. Which things can I substitute for others? Less is more.

While you’re considering what you might need, don’t really try to visualize the situations you might need them in…why put those thoughts out there? Stay away from the scary stories! Instead, stick to the basics; just the potential safety points.

#1 – Fire

I have a small fire extinguisher in easy reach of my bed and the door, so I can use it from inside or out. I have a smoke alarm (I’ll review those later) in the camper. A propane sensor and carbon monoxide alarm are also mainstays, when applicable.

If I need to get out of my Shasta Compact, only the door and the single pane back window are large enough to use as exits. (We’ll just assume the door is a no-brainer.) If I’m breaking the window to get out, I don’t need anything besides whatever I have at hand to do it. Most likely just my feet, as they are already attached and I don’t have to find them.

This is not when you use the bottle of wine or the paperback.

#2 – Intruders

How could someone get into my camper? Just like me getting out, there are only two options. All the other windows are tiny-paned jalousies; only pixies could get through them, and they love the camping people.

My door feels pretty secure with its nice Bargman original lock. Gonna take someone a bit of work to break that open. If I’m inside the camper, and I hear anything outside, first thing I do is hit my car alarm on my key fob. Works well for most critters, miscreants included. Besides, it lets my neighbors know I’m awake. Most of them are by now as well.

If I’m not inside, insurance. Not worth taking on any bad moments I don’t have to. It’s all still just stuff, you see. In reality, there is a second hasp type lock on the outside of my door to keep peeps out while I’m away. Baby Blue apparently had some history with ruffians in her earlier years. Whatever she needs to feel safe, I’m okay with it.

What if an intruder really does come in? There’s the bottle of wine I could conk them in the head with, wasp spray for a facial, and the fire extinguisher in case I need to shave them with my Dad’s hatchet. (It wouldn’t sharpen enough to cut kindling, but it’s still a pretty fine swinging tool.) C’mon, I’m above them, inside the camper, I know they’re coming, and their hands are busy. Plus they’re stupid.

Research shows the wasp spray might not be enough to stop a determined intruder, but pepper spray will. It’s actually a stronger concentration of the same ingredient in bear spray. Did you know bear spray is weaker because they want you to stop a bear a good distance away and not really hurt it? Either way, make sure the breeze isn’t blowing your way, or you could be the one incapacitated.

Besides, pepper spray comes in all of these really cute little accessories that look like lipstick and flashlights! Tazers too! Like that dude is going to wait while you reach for your non-threatening lipstick. More likely, I’m going to reach for a flashlight and spray or tazer myself while trying to turn it on.

Give me a pepper spray painted bright red, emblazoned with “DON’T TRY IT!” on the side. Maybe with a big bear painted on the can. (Almost everybody thinks bear spray is worse.)

If all else fails, you could offer them a store-baked oatmeal raisin cookie. Who can resist cookies? Raccoons, bears, even lurkers might just take you up on it. 

Honestly, most of the lurkers are just campers looking for someone to say “Hi” to. Sometimes, they just show up, playing a guitar, wearing nothing but a sarong and a floppy hat. I kid you not. If you can’t stand the company, pretend it’s your boss and you’re asking for a sick day. Practice coughing.

Kids. Lots of them like to walk right next to your camper; a thrilling forbidden zone for some. I become the deep voice of the monster hidden inside, “Go play on your own campsite, please.” Works every time. Besides, it makes me smile when they double-time their little legs while their heads keep spinning backwards. Cheap entertainment.

The dogs have been the worst. I love dogs, but after some unfortunate incidents when I was young, I scare easily. Besides, remember what I said about being in tune with your environment? Dogs are readable too. And they know I know. Makes some of them weird. I had two terrifying dog incidents in the first 3 months of traveling alone. First, while sweeping my rug outside the camper in the mountains of North Carolina, a Great Dane mix vaulted off the mountain path above me, teeth bared and ready to play broomstick. I made it into the camper, the broom didn’t. Sweet folks way up on the mountain, who took walks with a spontaneously aggressive bestie, yelled down a melodic “sorry”. I ignored them for a moment; I was busy trying to decide if I was having a heart attack. I just started this journey, I thought. Was I going to bite it without a bite? I calmed a bit, taking it down to just a semi-raging bitch voice. “Leash your dog in the State Park! It’s the rules!”

The second time, I was getting water from a shared spigot in another state campground. It wasn’t until I was filling my bucket, I realized the “campsite protection” Standard Schnauzer at the next site, was on a leash long enough to reach to mine. His owner said he didn’t realize his dog would ever be unfriendly. The dog loudly continued to remind him from the window, after being herded into their RV. They left right after that, so we never had a chance to explore alternatives. We could have tested the bear spray theory.

Ok, I take it back. I don’t love ALL dogs. Well, I love them, but I don’t have to like them. Especially when they’re chasing me.

All joking aside, dogs are great companions, warning systems, and often great protection. My cat does a pretty good job too…if someone gets close to my home, low growls begin to rumble. I only think she’d battle dust bunnies under the bed for me, though.

#3 – Thieves

What if someone steals my camper? Well, I know it’s just stuff, but it IS my home. First step, hitch lock. Easy grabbers, or those without tools handy will probably stop here. Second step, a boot. You know the kind authorities put on cars to stop people from driving them away? Ok, I know it still doesn’t stop thieves from putting on the spare tire, which is why most smart RV’ers lock the spare tire in an inaccessible location. Genius RV’ers paint large unique numbers on the roof, so it can be spotted from helicopters and planes. The Clark Kent’s hide little trackers inside, which ping anytime a cell phone gets near. In the end, we circle back to insurance, because this means your camper is already gone.

I saved the best for last. Neighbors. I camp primarily in State Parks, and with very few exceptions the people have been friendly, interesting, and like a community. Get to know your neighbors. They are an excellent response team even in the little emergencies you will actually encounter, like needing a hand putting up your awning. They will peer out their windows if someone is trying to break into your camper, likely having law enforcement there before the deed is done. They also offer great solutions for the dreaded boredom and loneliness we could be having while living small. 

And they love to get the books you’re done reading. And cookies.

If you don’t like your neighbors, (as I found in a couple of boondocking spots), just drive away. Most Walmarts, Camper Worlds, Cracker Barrels and a lot of other places will let you park a night for free in a well-lit area. (Please don’t put your lawn chairs out and ruin their generosity for all of us.)

Solo travel feels safer than you think.

All in all, I’ve felt as safe on my journey as I’ve felt in most homes. An added benefit; you don’t end up owning property in a neighborhood you don’t like. Choose your favorite spot(s).

It felt important to me to be able to share what I’ve learned in terms of feeling personal safety while traveling. The methods I feel safest with, concerns I address, and how safe it actually really feels.

I was concerned this post might be ill-timed in the current nationwide energy, so I’ve turned off all comments here. I know there are two very different opinions (with variations) regarding preferences for carrying a gun in the travel world. Let me first just say I’m never going to address it, or allow it to be debated here. It’s above my pay grade. There are far better places to get informed about weapons, than here on a site for sharing travel wisdom. Deleting is one of my specialties.

I also won’t tell you which side of the fence, or in this case camper door, I stand on. Just that I have it locked.

In truth, fire ants and skeeters are actually the worst personal safety threats I’ve encountered. I’ll let you know when I figure out the best defense. Apparently, wine, cookies, and good books have no effect on them. I haven’t tried a tazer yet.